#im excited to see what happens next season | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leclsrc · 10 months

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do you want it? ✴︎ cs55

genre: summer love!!!, slight age gap, porn w plot basically...

word count: 10.5k

Whatever preconceived notions you have about your summer at the beach house are all toppled over when your parents announce the arrival of a guest, who happens to be your dad's friend. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by several people! few notes... carlos is aged up a tad, the age gap is 21/33 so not too bad (i aged him up bc the age gap was 7 yrs and i was like. Huh. thats tame). if ur not into that (tho everything is consensual and reader is legal) its ok! anyway im sorry this came so late i had like 6 anons asking ab carlos and lana haha. also big thanks to dani whose work got me thru 4 writing ruts

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral sex (m and f receiving), deepthroating, semi public sex ish?, praise central, size kink, like a flash of spit kink sorry..., overuse of the term good girl

Half past noon and after a particularly snappy call from his manager, Carlos bites the bullet on summer plans and decides to accept what is arguably the least glamorous offer on his roster. By no means a dazzling standout, the offer to stay at a family friend’s house in Comporta seems to be the most comfortable option—besides, he doesn’t feel himself to be in the glitzy mood for cities like Los Angeles or Monaco.

Lando, beside him, is thus the first to get wind of the news that “grumpy old man” Carlos will not be accompanying him to the ultimate, tequila-flavored “summer extravaganza” in Morocco.

“You’re boring,” Lando moans, pacing the room. Outside, London’s skyline moves passively. Carlos hangs up his phone call with his assistant, receives a picture of his flight details, and looks up amusedly.

“Portugal is not boring.”

“Morocco. DJs, drinks, girls.” Lando raises one hand. “Comporta. Family friends, apple cider, sand in your eyes.” He raises another hand a few inches lower. “See the difference?”

“I appreciate the difference.” Truth is, Carlos has needed this kind of quiet, calm time off for a while now. The season gets heavy and intense and tiring, and sometimes just staying by the beach with a beer is the best kind of reprieve.

“You’re getting old,” Lando says with a sour grimace. “Old.”

“That is,” Carlos says, searching for the word, “defamation.”

Lando shrugs, moves off the subject as he shoves a handful of crisps into his mouth. “Are you meeting family there?”

“No.” Both of his parents are out of the country for the next few weeks; Carlos was invited by his dad’s friend, though the bond they share is more friendly than just the standard uncle-nephew type of relationship, and they often refer to each other as just friends. “Just friends. Gallery owner and a company owner, I think.”

Lando whistles. “Rich.”

In response, Carlos nods. “And their daughter, who’s visiting from university in the States.” The details are fuzzy in his head, but the gist is about right.

“Sounds boring,” his friend snorts. “Come on, mate. You, me, Daniel. One last chance to watch Peggy Gou’s set and take shots and have fuuun.” He says the last part with the suave that would only rival a preteen’s.

Carlos, for a second, lets his resolve waver. Maybe it would be better watching loud DJ sets, dancing, getting all flushed with alcohol. But he blinks and shakes his head anyway. He hopes his decision is the right one, that summer in the beach house ends up being worth it. It’s a few weeks by the beach, anyway—what’s the worst that could happen?

—

Any recollection of your childhood almost instantly connects to the beach house in Comporta, big and wide and right by the coast. You spent fall, winter, and spring in a constant bumbling state of excitement to spend summer there. Your parents owned it, and often offered family friends to take up residence there when summers in the city got unbearable; for the most part, though, it was the three of you and, on rare years, a guest.

Your summers there have since smudged into the same few memories, of your mum and dad’s faces, of swimming and the learning curve of sailing, of bonfires by the beach on cold nights. And they have since become just that: memories. Summers grew sparse with time, and eventually the idea of meeting distant family friends became more embarrassing than exciting; by the time your parents moved you out of Europe for college, you’d lost almost all memory of the house.

So when your parents ask if you want to fly back to Comporta and spend a few “quiet” weeks there, you figure there’s no harm in seeing what the house is like and what summer can offer you beyond the weekly club outings. Instead of the usual quiet and overall lack-of-bustle that comes with summers, however, you open the front door to three housekeepers dusting every surface in your immediate eyesight.

“Are we hosting a wedding?” You ask when you find your parents tending to two sweaty glasses of champagne. You gesture faintly to the cleanfest inside. “What is going on?”

“We have a guest,” your mother says as she gets up to hug you tight. “Staying for the summer.”

“You said this summer would be quiet,” you deadpan, eyes narrowing underneath your sunglasses.

Your mum pinches your elbow. “I wasn’t lying,” she defends, raising her eyebrows. “Carlos’ son is coming.” She pats your arm. “You know? The race driver! He’s close with your father.” And, leaving no space for you to voice your dissent, she slips back into the house through the screen door, your father kissing your cheek then following suit. Your mouth parts, thoughts beginning to rush with implications of what your mother has just told you.

Carlos—if you’re correct—is Carlos Sainz, Sr., a good friend of your dad’s, and his son is Carlos Sainz, Jr., another good friend of your dad’s, because if there’s one thing rich Europeans do well, it’s the repetition of names. You’ve never met his son, only heard of him and seen a few pictures, but being so far detached from life here, you can’t even shape his face.

All you recall is the fact that he should now be thirty or older, which makes him rather older than you—and therefore effectively incapable of providing any break from any possible summer boredom. For fuck’s sake, he’s close to your dad. You’re at the top of the stairs when you hear the commotion by the front door, peeking at the foyer to catch a glimpse of him.

He’s solo, you observe; upon a glance into the front parking, you notice he’s driven here in a Ferrari, one a bit too modern for your taste but beautiful nevertheless. He carries only two pieces of luggage, and the sun blinds you for a moment before he’s finally at the doorframe, smiling politely, talking to your dad in casual Spanish.

He is, for lack of better word, insanely handsome. He wears a polo that shows off much of his arms, that flex as he puts down his luggage to shake hands with your parents; you follow the movement of his hands to watch one comb through his thick hair, then down to his smile, back up to his brown eyes, deep and so, so pretty.

Maybe this summer deserves a little less begrudge, you decide as you retreat back into your room, still brewing with residual annoyance.

Your parents send him off after a drink and a brief conversation, catch-up, tour of the downstairs area. Carlos knows his room is supposed to be upstairs, but the problem arises in the fact that there are two upstairs rooms and he doesn’t know which one he’s supposed to be staying in. Setting his luggage down for a minute, he knocks on the first door; permissive silence greets him for half a minute, so he turns the knob and prepares to enter.

To his surprise, he finds somebody already inside, a figure by the mirror on the other end of the room. What catches his eye is not the tiny skirt, but the half-tied bikini top currently being wound around two fingers at the centre of your back. You’re basically clothed, but Carlos can’t decide if he’s thankful or not—he doesn’t have time to when you catch him in the mirror and turn around quick, mouth agape.

“Can’t you knock?!” You ask, catty.

“I did—I knocked, but you—there was no answer,” he explains profusely. “I’m Carlos. Sorry, apologies. Truly.”

You introduce yourself. You’re his friend’s daughter, this and that, and you’re visiting from the States to spend summer here. He apologizes again when you finish.

“Well, seeing as though this is my room,” you shoot back, “that must be yours.” You gesture vaguely to the one down the hall. Amused and a little embarrassed, he mouths apologies as he closes the door.

Carlos exits, departs and doesn’t have time to take in the room before he’s facedown on the bed. Any sleepiness he’d collected from the trip over, from the day drinks, from the headache that’d been blooming at the temples of his head, has dissipated. His mind’s been imprinted with one image only, and it’s down the hall in a tiny skirt.

—

Lunch brings lemonade and pasta, two staples for every summer meal. You, however, find yourself hopelessly distracted by the presence of your guest, and despite your best efforts, the churn in your stomach disables you from fully enjoying the carbonara on the table. The conversation between Carlos and your dad ends up taking your attention instead. “So you’re racing again in a few weeks?”

“Sí,” Carlos nods in-between forkfuls. Then, to add, “Busy, busy times.”

“Well. It’s the worst of our days,” your mum says, a quote she picked up from—of all places—a BBC sitcom she watched to tears last winter. “You are a talented driver, Carlos. Very cultured. I’m sure you’ll enjoy Comporta.”

“I have not been around much,” he says; his gaze flutters over to his glass, which is devoid of water or lemonade. “Any recommendations?”

“A lot, cabrón. Our daughter will be happy to take you around,” your father says on your behalf. He turns to you. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, sure,” you say, allowing a terse smile. “There’s some places around here that aren’t so boring. But that’s being generous.” Carlos laughs at your joke, raucous and goofy, and you would definitely be lying if you told yourself it didn’t get you blushing a little bit, eyes casting themselves to your still-full plate.

“While you’re here, Carlos,” your dad continues, “I have an old car in the garage that could use some looking at. Are you—would you know how to—?”

Carlos nods, accepting the favor—then the conversation naturally slides into one of cars and racing. Carlos chronicles his journey in Formula One, his Toro Rosso days back then when he was younger, his McLaren period, and now, his time representing Ferrari. He talks of pet peeves on the grid, annoyances but also praises for the sport.

“I’d appreciate the downtime, actually,” he explains, “that I’d get from working on a car instead of in one.” He laughs, eyes briefly meeting yours. He looks away, then looks again. He can’t help himself. He wonders if he’s being obvious, if you can tell the way his looks are anything but casual. “Can you pour me a glass?” He adds.

“Yeah,” you mutter, sitting straight to pour lemonade into his waiting glass. You meet his eyes and almost pour it over the pasta. The rest of the lunch is uneventful, a series of adult conversation you can’t seem to engage yourself in fully, and whether that’s because of personal preference or Carlos’ presence, you don’t make an effort to try.

“…ney. Honey.” Your mum’s voice distracts you from your thoughts; when you look up, half the table is clear and Carlos and your dad have ventured inside to deposit plates at the sink.

“Sorry. Wh—sorry, what?” You blink.

“Your father and I are heading out for the evening. Carlos will be working on the car. That okay, or you want to come along?”

“Um…” You pretend the latter is even an option before shaking your head. “No, I’ll stay.”

“Good.” She strokes your hair. “He could use the company.”

You follow her walking figure inside, where you station your eyes on Carlos. He’s sipping a lemonade. His eyes meet yours for a second and your face is outrageously flushed when you realize you’ve been caught staring, just like his had been earlier when he walked into your room.

—

You’re hellbent on solving a Sudoku puzzle when the dinner bell rings, and you have to finish it on the stairs. Your dad’s always been a stickler for arriving to dinner on time—every meal, but a gargantuan emphasis on the last—and you’ve been victim to scoldings about being five to six minutes late, an instance you don't wish to repeat.

9, you scribble, bare feet moving with speed through the living room, indoor dining room, then to the patio door. 4 comes next, your footsteps following the smell of grilled meat. 8, you write as you turn into the outdoor dining area. You’re halfway through 2 when you stop, look up, and find Carlos preparing dinner.

“Oh—” You pause. “You rang the dinner bell? Are my parents not…?”

“They are at a dinner,” says Carlos, eyes meeting yours briefly. It reminds you of earlier and you clear your throat, looking away. “So I hope my cooking is good enough.”

“It smells great,” you offer, seating yourself down and pouring a glass of wine. He sets the plate down—just-cut steak, a smear of potatoes. “Christ, you cook better than Dad.”

“I take that as a compliment,” he laughs, sitting across you. “Listen, I want to apologize for accidentally walking into your room earlier.”

Your face warms. “No, it’s okay. I was just surprised.”

“It was wrong of me. Let’s start over. I’m Carlos.” He reaches over to shake your hand, still standing. You take it, eyes flitting over his hand, spotting no glinting ring on his finger. With a saccharine smile, you assure him it was an honest mistake, so he segues into a different topic, the corners of his mouth turning up. “So, do you have an itinerary for me tomorrow?”

You hum, passing the wine over to him. “A bookstore, an ice cream parlor, and a bike ride. Anything else is seriously not worth it. You’ll have the next few weeks to explore town. If the house gets that boring.”

“I haven’t been bored so far,” he says, eyes glinting.

“Oh?”

“You know, with the car fixing.” He points vaguely to where the garage is. “But it’s only been a day.”

“Car fixing is boring,” you state matter-of-factly. “You’ll have fun tomorrow.” You cut into the steak and bite into the forkful you stab at, eyes fluttering.

“Good?” Carlos asks, smiling a little.

“I love it,” you mumble. “You’re so good at this, Carlos.”

Carlos retires to his room that night, and finds that today has held a collective motif of losing his shit. He’s anything but sleepy. Restless, wild-eyed, combing hand after hand through his hair. God, if he’d known you were this pretty—this hard to resist, on his first night here, no less—he would’ve been watching some DJ spin out a set with Lando right now.

Instead, he finds he can’t stop himself from thinking about you, the way your eyes had fluttered when he tried saying something on the edge of flirty. Your hair. Your hands, your fingers, lithe around the stem of your wine glass.

I love it, you’d said, you’re so good at this, Carlos. You knew exactly what you were doing, skittish tone putting him on edge. Despite himself, he can’t help but squeeze himself through his pants when he sits down on the edge of the bed, breathing heavy to purge himself of thoughts so low and dirty.

You’re so pretty. You’d be so easy to wreck, make his, goad little moans out of you, get your lips around him, puffy and pink and pretty. He wedges his eyes shut tight and hopes these thoughts will dissipate as the week passes.

Something tells him he’s wrong, though.

—

The tour is delayed because your dad insists he go fishing with Carlos three days in a row, but eventually (likely due to your mum’s insistence) it pushes through. You greet him with a smile, waiting by the door, wearing a sundress. Sundresses will definitely be his demise.

You’re a good tour guide, though, Carlos figures when you’re finished pointing at every turn and sign and dictating what goes where and where the passage to the coast is, when you’ve even quizzed him about where you are and where the house is supposed to be.

After he points in the correct direction, you nod approvingly. “That’s how my dad made sure I wouldn’t get lost,” you explain when he laughs at your choice of tour guidance.

“And you were what—twelve?” He asks, walking beside you. It’s fairly empty in town, a few tourists mulling about carrying shopping bags and plastic cups of juice.

“Try fourteen,” you argue.

“Well, quizzing a, uh—a fourteen-year-old is really not the same as quizzing a grown adult.”

“Ha. Call me when you can’t find your way home tonight,” you diss sarcastically, making a turn toward the bookstore down the street. “Okay, here we are. Don’t get too excited. They’re just books.”

For a relatively empty town, the bookstore always has new batches of titles, displayed proudly for natives and tourists alike front and centre. But you’re already going to the right side of the store, busying yourself with looking at the signs.

“The classics shelf is always my favorite,” you say, already walking ahead of him. Your dress bobs softly with your legs as you pace, short and sweet and white. You turn and his eyes slide back up instantly, and he hopes he was quick enough. “Do you have any authors you like?”

“I am not a big reader. You?”

“Huge,” you say, smiling a little. “Okay, we can browse. Are you into any genre…?”

Carlos proceeds to tell you his track record in the literary field includes: reading half the Harry Potter series, a car manual, and a few other titles in Spanish he cannot recall the name or plot of. But, he adds, he’s always wanted to read, found the activity so quiet and still and perfect, so he allows you to lead him through the titles stacked on each table and condensed on each shelf. He points at, sometimes, or picks up covers he finds appealing.

“How about—?” He reaches for a pink cover that reads It Ends With Us, but your hand loops around his wrist before he can pick it up and you’re pulling him into another aisle.

“…Not that.” You continue perusing the books around you, your hand still wrapped around his. With your free finger, you point at the top shelf, and tiptoe against the bookcase to try and get it. You come close, but not close enough.

Carlos, behind you, is successful, not even needing to tiptoe to reach for the red hardbound you’d been pointing at. It also means he’s pressed up against you, heavy and big, and the sensation dizzies you. When he finally pulls it off, you turn to him and find respite in the proximity—you two are so close, every exhale out of your lips causes a puff of air to blow against his hair.

He steps backward. You smile and gesture toward the book he’s holding. “That’s a good one.”

“Gabriel Garcia Marquez.” He reads out the author’s name in one fluid sentence, his Spanish accent becoming naturally more obvious.

“Okay, colonizer.” He knits his brows. “Trust me,” you insist. “One Hundred Years of Solitude—so good. It was one of the first books I read front to back twice in a row.”

“Wow, what an honor,” he teases sarcastically as you move along the aisle, fingertips brushing against the indents of the books. You turn to narrow your eyes and stick your tongue out. Unfortunately for Carlos, the effect this inflicts upon him is not oh she mocked me, but oh how would it look if—

He needs ice cream. Or to just get out of this aisle.

—

You punctuate the day with two cones of it, melting way too fast in the heat of summer. He’s already half-finished with his vanilla, and you’re taking your time with the lemon sorbet you’d gotten for yourself. Apparently, this is the only other highlight the town has to offer, and judging by the fact that most of the other stores are expensive clothes, souvenir shops, and a Bible bookstore—yeah.

Carlos is also more than sated with the three books in the paper bag he’s holding. Scratch that—six books, you bought a haul for yourself—but it’s not a particularly heavy load, so he’s fine. His phone has been buzzing with Lando’s update requests that he’s been deliberately ignoring.

“They make the best ice cream,” you rave, smiling. You lick over the melt on your lips. “Right?”

He might actually drop his cone now. “It is delicious.”

“Well…” You look around, your hair flying with every turn of your head. Lick over lips again. Again, and again. He has to look away.

“…Do you wanna stop by anywhere else?” You turn to him and ask, licking over the tip of your ice cream cone.

It’s hard for Carlos to pretend he’s looking around your surroundings, at the signs and storefronts, and not at your sticky lips, your pink tongue just peeking out to lap at the quickly melting gelato around your hand. His eyes flit downward, to where the hem of your tiny white dress has flown up in the coastal wind, exposing more of your thighs.

“Carlos?” You repeat, voice sweet and waiting.

He snaps his eyes back up and wills his voice to remain passive. “We can head back.”

So you do, meaning your tour ends around noon, and your parents greet you both with lunch and the round of inevitable questions. Did Comporta live up to your expectations? What books did you get? Was our daughter a good tour guide? The latter, Carlos answers with a smile—very good. You allowed your face to flush, blamed it on the sangria.

Now, though, it’s the brink in-between chilly and hot, sticky traces of the summer afternoon still lingering in the air, mixing with the cool of dusk when you decide to exit your room and fix yourself a glass of something, preferably sweet and alcoholic. An empty driveway save for a Ferrari means your parents are gone, leaving you and—if you’re lucky, which you hope you are—

“Carlos,” you call out from the window you’ve just tugged open with the expertise of somebody who’s lived here for twenty-one summers. “Thirsty?”

He looks up from where he is, outside, continuing his operation on your dad’s car. The hood’s been cranked open, and his long hair is damp with sweat, flying gently in the face of the sunset breeze. He smiles when he sees your figure peeking out.

“For what?”

“Whatever you want,” you respond, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. His white shirt’s stained with oil and dirt, tainting it beige and grey, the tight fit even tighter from his sweat. You can make out the outline of his abs just underneath.

He squints. “Beer?”

You make an exaggerated eugh face to tease him, but duck back inside to bring your homemade aperol and an open, frosty beer outside. When he sees you, he walks closer, smiles and takes a swig of the drink you offer. He makes a noise of satisfaction and you have to make a real effort to maintain a semblance of normalcy, eyes averting from his lips to gaze instead at his solid shoulders, his build, big and tall.

“What’s the problem with beer, hmm?”

“Tastes like shit.” You raise your aperol. “The sweeter, the better. How’s Dad’s car?” You blink, sidestepping him to try and gauge his progress.

“Casi termino.” You look at him, raising your eyebrows, and he translates. “Almost done. It wasn’t that destroyed, if at all.”

“You think he’ll let you drive it when you’re done?” You ask playfully, swiping your condensation-wet finger over the side of the car. You turn, smiling expectantly; Carlos laughs a bit, shrugs.

“It is just a favor. But if he does, I’ll make sure you get to come along.” He says. “You like that?”

“Mmm,” you nod, sipping on your aperol. You part from your straw, lips stained, and smile up at him. “I do.”

His gaze is stuck on your lips. You lick over them, and he looks away with a slow blink. You watch as he ruffles his hair, rounds the car and crosses his arms to view it from the back.

God, he’s handsome. You think of the long-winded nights you’ve been spending trailing your fingers over your legs or texting inspired paragraphs to friends back in university about him. Their responses are almost always Send pic now and a cacophony of heart eye emojis when you manage to snag a stolen shot of him doing just about anything.

His gaze is scrutinizing, every little detail of the car, and eventually he closes the hood again. “Should be good by tomorrow.”

“Where’d you learn to fix cars?” You ask sweetly, nearing him. The wind bites at your legs, your flowy skirt bouncing sporadically and held down by your free hand. When your eyes flit to his, waiting for his response, you find them snapping upward. He’d been distracted.

“I work with cars, so it comes natural.” You lean on the hood of the car and he comes to stand in front of you, his eyes pointed downward at you. “That’s not a very good habit,” he adds.

“Drinking?” You pout, raising your half-empty glass. You blink up at him, the corner of your smiling lip caught in your teeth.

“Biting your lip.” His gaze is intense. “You do it a lot, I noticed.”

You smile, leaning backward a little. His resolve is breaking. “Can I borrow one of the books you got earlier?”

“The three ones you bought not enough?” He raises a brow, downing beer again. Some of it dribbles out of the corner of his lip. You’ve never been one to like the taste, but you’d lick it off him if you could.

“I just wanna browse it,” you push. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Fine,” he relents. “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

—

He sees you the next day after lunch, which you’d skipped because you “weren’t hungry.” You’re wearing a dress, hair clipped into a bun when you excuse yourself to pick up an earring in front of him. He almost thinks it’s a fib until he sees it, the pink gem on the floor.

“Sorry,” you say, voice mellow, and then you’re bending over to pick it up. You’re wearing pretty lace panties underneath.

Carlos clears his throat and excuses himself, adjusting his shorts as he goes upstairs.

—

He gives you Norweigan Wood after dinner, like he promised earlier in the week. Two raps on your door, and when you open it, he’s already handing it to you with a quiet smile. “Goodnight,” he says, his voice clipped.

“Our tour isn’t over yet,” you tease, tossing the book onto your bed and descending the steps back downstairs. Confused and interested, he follows you, to the back area of the house, past the swinging screen door, down the steps, and onto the sand.

“Tour?” He repeats, for clarification. The only things to tour are sand and twigs.

“Yeah, Carlos. This is the real tour,” you joke, walking backwards. Every step sends your foot sinking into the cold sand, slowing your pace until Carlos catches up, matching your steps once he does. “Comporta—real and unfiltered.” You both laugh at your hyperbolic, MTV-worthy statement, and he waits for more, entertains you further.

“What is so real about this?” Carlos laughs, allowing himself to humor your little schtick.

“Well, mister. This isn’t bookstores and ice cream parlors.” You point to a nearby spot in the sand, just by a rogue stick. “This is where I smoke without getting caught. Near enough that I can run back in seconds, but faraway enough that my parents can’t immediately see what I’m doing. Granted, I don’t need to be sneaking around much, but if you ever want to do something in secret—”

The implication sends Carlos into a spiral of thought.

“—here’s your spot.”

“So you smoke,” he says when he sits himself on the sand, observing the now-dark skyline of the area. You continue pacing around a little, and when you raise your arms up to stretch, he catches a glimpse of your abdomen, the waistband of pink lace underneath the low rise of your denim shorts.

“Occasionally. Don’t play Holy Mary,” you warn, standing in front of him and stretching your hand out to reveal a box of Marlboro Reds.

“Wasn’t planning to,” he responds, taking a stick and inserting it in between his lips. “Got a light?”

“No,” you tease, taking one for yourself and sliding your lighter out from your pocket in one quick motion. The flame illuminates your face, casts a light on your thin white tee and on the bikini top you have on underneath. You puff out a small cloud of smoke, and Carlos reaches up to take the lighter.

“I said no,” you giggle, your lips knotting into a pout. You hold the lighter just out of his reach, red and bold against the bleak evening.

“Give it.” He sits up higher, reaches harder; he almost gets it, but you step backward and raise your arm out of reach. Again your shirt rises with the movement. The view he gets, this time, of your hips, the lace that hugs the area there, is much more close. The laugh you emit sends a cloud of smoke out.

“No, no,” you continue, laughing, a sweet sound.

Carlos gets up, tries again to lunge for the lighter. At this point he doesn’t even care about the cigarette in between his lips, just wants to entertain you. He tries again but you’re quick with it, ducking every lunge just in time.

“Come on,” he goads, laughing himself. You pace backward, smoking, until your ankles hit the shallow shore water, water that goes deeper and deeper until you’re knee-level, still smiling at him mischievously.

“Fine,” you relent, shrugging. You throw your hands up in surrender, in the process taking the stick out of your mouth to blow smoke out. “Do you want it? C’mere, then.” You beckon him closer, wave the lighter tantalizingly so he steps closer, closer, until you’re holding the flame to the cigarette between his lips.

He’s so tall, he has to bend a little to let you light it, his eyes meeting yours, illuminated by the pale moon and the orange of the flame.

It all goes to plan. Once you light it, you place two hands square on his shoulders, whirl him so he’s behind you and thus even deeper in the water, and with all your might, push him into the sea.

“Brat—” he manages to gasp out as he goes, the word leaving his lips in the first and last puff of smoke he lets out. He surfaces, every dip and ridge of his abs and chest accentuated, his linen polo near invisible with how saturated it is with water. His long hair, too, sticks to his forehead; he combs it backward, reveals his amused-irritated eyes, the dead cigarette spouting seawater and ash.

He spits it out. You stare and pinch the soggy stick in between two fingers, stuffing the trash into his chest pocket. “That’s bad for the environment.”

“I am freezing,” he says in response, but you’re just stifling a laugh.

He narrows his eyes, and with unsurprising ease given his build, picks you up and carries you over his shoulder. You barely have time to protest, almost dropping your own cigarette into the water, kicking and pounding on his back to please put me down. You can feel the water getting deep, deeper, and when he finally dunks you in, it’s only a second of dryness before you’re submerged in the chilly water.

Your cigarette dies, and you manage to collect it, because you’re not in the interest of leaving your stick floating; you wedge it into your pocket.

“You’re such”—you gasp for air—“a dick!”

You’re smiling, though, flailing your legs to stay afloat. Carlos can’t help but stare, entranced with the way your eyelashes stick together, damp, the droplets of water on your cheeks, your two hands wringing saltwater out of your hair, and when you swim upward, the way your white tee leaves nothing to his imagination.

You can tell. He can tell you can tell—because the next thing you do, with some faux exaggerated sigh of annoyance, is say, “Can’t swim, too heavy,” and you’re taking off your shirt so all he sees is the red of your bikini top underneath. The white tee bobs softly with each passing wave, and you’re smiling up at him. Checkmate, you’re saying. I’ve got you. A skittish, playful smile on your lips.

“I can help you swim,” he offers—retaliates, more like, his height offering him great advantage. He finds your bare ankle underwater, guides it to wrap around his waist. Naturally, your other leg follows until you’re flush against him, held up by him so you don’t need to wag your legs around just to stay above water.

Your hands go on his still-clothed shoulders first, then eventually around them, fingers linking at the nape of his neck. Your smile is wicked. You’re so sinfully pretty. He wades deeper, holds you all the while, two big hands on either side of your waist, thumbs rubbing over your sides so you can shiver.

“‘M so wet,” you say, voice shaky with chill and laughter. His grip tightens and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to try and pretend you didn’t just say that.

He dips you underneath the surface to surprise you, and your shriek is cut off by the water—he pulls you up quick, laughing, but underestimates his strength because as he tugs, you barrel right onto him, forehead bumping his.

Your eyes are closed, and you momentarily detach from him to wipe salt out of them. “Ass.”

“Brat,” he responds.

You open your eyes to find he’s close, so close you could just lean forward an inch—an inch—and you’d be meeting his lips. You wonder how they feel, how he kisses. He’s confident everywhere else, would he kiss you like that, too? You lean closer, a wrecked gasp escaping you.

“You’re so pretty,” you say, and it’s supposed to be teasing, but your breathy voice is genuine, honest. A thumb swipes over his eyelashes, causing him to blink, then the bridge of his nose. He leans upward, tries to catch your lips, but pauses, his eyes fluttering open and closed.

“This is wrong,” he says in a quiet breath, making no move at all you stop either of you from kissing right now.

You want—need—to kiss him, but you can play the long game if he wishes to. Your eyes flit back up to his, dark brown and reflecting the moon.

“Then let’s head back,” you suggest, even if both of you want anything but.

Long game. He guides you back to shore, picks your tee up, uses it as a sieve for any loose ash and cigarette bits in your path back to shore, even finds your red lighter that’s now dispensing water. He apologizes for not having anything to dry you with, and drops you off at your room with a puddle in both of your wakes.

“Thank you again,” he says, his voice a whisper through your ajar door. He observes your room with what little vantage point he has. The posters on the wall, the art, postcards. The laptop on the bed, open. The phone charging on the nightstand. The thong hanging out of the hamper.

“No problem,” you say back, voice saccharine. Your hand wraps around his wrist. “See you tomorrow.”

Even if you’re doused in seawater, he can still smell the traces of your perfume, the summery sweet of it, when you close the door. He stays for a second, blinks, relishes in the hint of floral.

—

You spend three days walking on eggshells around each other, testing the limits of interaction.

Your night at the beach was risky, dangerous, thrilling—but it was fun, sending you both into antsy, restless trains of thought. Carlos self-medicates with coffee, beer in the afternoon, working on your dad’s car, and the first two hundred pages of the Marquez book you insisted he pick up. He spots you sometimes, lounging on the beach with his book in your grip, the waistline of your bikini bottoms leaving a tanline he can’t stop staring at when you walk back into the house.

But he can’t act on it—he was the one who labeled it wrong, the one who suppressed himself, held the urge back. He told you it was wrong. And it is wrong. He’s older, he should be wiser; he’s close with your dad; and a cacophony of other rational reasons he shouldn’t be playing into this skittish summer crush.

“Dad said the boat’s free,” a voice says, and he looks up from his book to find you standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a skirt, loose and riding low on your hips. Your lips stretch into a sweet smile. “Wanna come?”

He really shouldn’t. “Sí.”

So he goes. He’s thirty-five. That’s a grown age. If anything, he’s capable of making sure he stays responsible. He dog-ears his page and picks up his beer to follow you to where the boat is docked. He’d been on your dad’s yacht earlier in his trip here, to go fishing, but it’s quieter today, bobbing softly atop the water. You lie yourself down on the sunny side of the boat, sunglasses over your eyes.

“Stay anywhere you like,” you say charmingly. It’s silent for a while, Carlos seating himself on one of the lounge seats in the shaded area, and then you’re moving around on your towel.

You peer over your lenses, blinking and sitting up, and this is when he knows he can’t do it.

“Carlos,” you call out. “Can you put sunscreen on my back?” You get up again, rifling in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen, dragging a hand through your hair to comb it out. It falls in loose waves, swishing when you turn to hand him the bottle. He pretends he’d been distracted on page 210 when he accepts it, watching as you sit in front of the seat, your back turned to him, your little figure in-between his spread legs.

A minute passes with no hand at your back. “Go ahead, move even slower,” you joke, and the tension breaks a little; he humors you, laughs and apologizes.

“It’s because hour hair is in the way,” he says, touching it gently, combing it to the side.

“Wait—” You dig through your bag again and pull out a blunt pink ribbon, slipping it into his hand. “Can you braid it for me?”

“Braid?” He doesn’t know jack shit about braiding hair. “I don’t know how.”

“At that age of yours and you don’t know anything about how to please a girl,” you whistle lowly. “Adult virgin?”

But you guide him through it despite your teasing, teaching him to divide your hair in threes, weaving one strand over the other until “it looks half decent.” He fucks up a few times and your hair looks odd at some point, but in the end, it’s—well, it’s a braid.

“How is it?” You ask, and he can hear your smile.

He does the job well enough for a first-timer, he thinks, finishing it with the ribbon, which he ties loosely lest you’re unhappy with the finished product. It becomes easier to move your hair out of the way, and once your back is saturated with sunscreen, you unfold your legs and get up, turning around and smiling down at his sitting figure.. Loose tendrils of hair frame your face, the braid resting at your back softly, already loosening.

“Your hair can be braided, too,” you comment quietly, knotting a rogue few strands in your fingers. It hasn’t been this tense since that night at the beach, but that ended before the tension rose further—this, now, keeps going. You step closer and he leans back, smiling. “Can I?”

He blinks, nostrils flaring, then nods, his grip on your hips gentle when you sit on his lap, your legs on either side of his. You smile coquettishly, feeling how hard he is underneath you, the denim of his jeans rough against the skin of your bare thighs. Your skirt’s riding up on them with every little shift you make, just to rile him up.

Carlos drinks in the sight of you, sunkissed and on his lap, legs sprawled out, pretty little face framed, bottom lip in your teeth. You’re inviting him closer, your gaze meeting his with sleepy, demure eyes—do something. You look so fucking precious, so pretty. It makes him want to give you everything right now.

You reach forward, make an attempt to try and weave his hair together—but he grinds upward, your breath hitching and a whimper punched out of your mouth.

Your hands are shaking now, barely able to piece his hair together with how good his clothed cock feels pressed against you, where you need it most.

“Carlos,” you gasp, and all he can really think is—where’d all your fight go? You were so used to being a brat and a half, now you’re whimpering, on the edge of begging.

“Be quiet,” Carlos grunts, digging his fingers into your hips. His other hand lifts your skirt, bunching the fabric around your hips for a better view of your cunt rubbing against the bulge in his pants. The damp fabric of your panties is swallowed between your lips with every grind you make forward and he has to stop himself from cursing out loud at the sight. “Good girl.”

Your hands move from his hair to his shoulders, sturdy and broad; you can feel him squeeze your waist with both hands, then pull you down against him, just once, so your weight presses down on the hard shape of his cock. It makes him shudder and you whine out loud. You resist the urge to grind over it; you’re already so wet you’re making a mess on his jeans.

His praise, mumbled deep and slow in your ear, gets you feeling all warm, almost ditzy. Your hips roll on their own, chasing the delicious drag of rough denim against your clit, slick soaks into and through your panties, making the material cling to the shape your folds. Carlos’ hands are rough when they wander and grope, hiking this godforsaken skirt up so he can press a thumb against the centre of your folds.

“Been so good for you, Carlos,” you whine, circling your hips against him. He can’t stop staring at your pretty, fucked-out eyes, your bitten lips. He shoves two fingers in-between them, imagines how they looked just a few days ago slick with ice cream—now your tongue is laving over his hand. The braid you'd just taught him is quickly unraveling with every nod of your head. “‘M gonna—can I—” The pleas leave you quick, your voice choked.

Euphoric, your mind lifts, foggy and saturated with pleasure, the braid almost completely undone now. His praise is so addictive, gets you worked up and needy. Come on, he says. Make a mess. His accent, his deep voice, the way it rumbles right through you—his voice drops, his touch a little heavier as he presses harder.

You gonna cum for me? His thumb rubs faster until you’re gasping, shuddering, little ahs leaving your lips. He’s got the upper hand now, but you can hear the strain, the suppression in his voice as he rubs over the soaked fabric; you feel his cock growing under you, getting harder.

P—please—I want to—please let me, you say breathlessly, and you’ve never needed it to the point of begging before, but Carlos is different. He keeps going, doesn’t give you permission, rubbing faster, your heart hammering in your chest.

Feel good?

Y—yeah, you whimper, trying your best not to fall apart here, on your dad’s boat, where anybody could walk on—or maybe see you from afar, humping your dad’s friend in broad daylight. He loves watching you like this; you’ve somehow become even prettier, face flushed and voice shaky.

Come on, he goads. Be a good girl. Cum for me.

It’s the only instruction that matters to you right now, your body seizing with it and cute little moans escaping you as you finish. You catch your breath against his chest, craving warmth even if it’s hot—maybe you’re craving him, his touch, Carlos, just Carlos. You maneuver yourself so legs, exhausted from shaking, are on one side of his body—he holds you close, humming.

He rubs a steady hand across your lower back, gentle and firm and you want him so much more now. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Talk to me.”

“Perfect,” you pant against his polo, fingers playing with the stitching, tugging the collar down so you can mouth at his skin. His hand plays with what’s left of the braid, winds the pink ribbon around his fingers. “Let’s go for a swim.”

—

“And we drove the jet ski around, too,” you say gleefully, your damp hair bobbing with every move of your head. Your face is sunkissed, a little sore from being in the sun for most of the afternoon. Carlos laughs along from where he is at the grill—he’s cooking for dinner, on a quest to make burgers because he’s known for making the best ones back in Madrid, apparently. Your dad, of course, insists on joining, and the two have been asking and answering questions while you and your mum sip rosé at the table.

“Did you have fun?” Your mum asks, her head turning to address Carlos.

“Yeah, tons,” he replies with a smile, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second. You know what he means. It’s been only two days since the afternoon on the boat, and since then you’ve mostly swam and ridden around on the jet ski with Carlos—nothing more.

“See, sweetie,” she adds, placing a hand over yours. “I told you this summer would be fun with him around!”

“Mmm, yeah,” you say, nodding and parting from your glass, “I can really count on him for some excitement.” The statement catches his attention and he almost trails off, eyes returning to yours, before he continues speaking in Spanish to your dad about something or other.

The burgers’ reputation precedes them, and is warranted, you learn later when you’re biting into it for the first time. The remainder of dinner passes by in lively conversation, the sun setting low underneath the Comporta horizon, wine taking the place of rosé. Carlos mentions the racing world again, about how he’ll be back into the thick of it sooner than later, and you pulse with something akin to sadness.

Your parents, apparently so grateful for the blessing that is Carlos’ burgers, offer to clean up and before long, they retreat to their downstairs bedroom. Upstairs, you marinate in your thoughts, blinking up at your ceiling, twining your pink ribbon around your fingers as your hair dries splayed over your bedding. You let your arm down, in the process bumping your elbow against a hard surface.

Upon investigation, you find it’s a copy of Norweigan Wood.

Carlos is at his desk, taking a timezone-separated call about simulation and season prep, when two soft knocks go at his door and it creaks open. He turns the chair away from the desk to see who it is. An ankle steps in first, then more leg, and then you—in a lovely, pretty pink lace dress, your face illuminated by the moonlight outside. One hand clutches a copy of his book; the other, the ribbon he’d used on your hair earlier.

He’s nursing a bottle of beer, just to help ease the drag of the day, and he watches you approach him, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood of the floor. Wait, he mouths, finishing the call in a hushed tone, and when he hangs up you approach him again.

“I thought you should have this back,” you say, offering him the book. Your eyes rake over him, wearing the same getup he’d worn to dinner—denim jeans, because he’d ducked out to buy food, except he’s ridden himself of his shirt.

He takes the book, places it on the table, continues staring up at you. “And I thought you should keep this.” The ribbon, pale pink, is now looped around his wrist and tied into a delicate ribbon at the apex of it. You admire your handiwork with a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

You lean down, face just shy of his. “We shouldn’t,” he manages to eke out, his voice strained.

“But you want to,” you respond softly. “No one’s going to know. Our little secret.”

His eyes are shut, contemplating, and then he’s kissing you—the only thing you’ve wanted, craved, touched yourself to the thought of over the course of the summer. You reciprocate immediately, parting your lips to let him kiss you deeper, a whimper leaving your mouth. He kisses like he knows he’s a good kisser, and he really is. His scent is intoxicating, a drug, sending arousal and desire straight through you.

You part, eyes half-lidded as you stand straight again. You cock your head slowly to the side, and with your head’s movement your hair follows, gathering on one side. It exposes much of your shoulder and collarbones, which lay underneath the thin lace dress you wear to sleep, and which is now subject to Carlos' unwavering stare. He has no shame, eyes raking over you, up and down and back up. One hand curled around a bottle of beer, the other coming up to slowly graze the back of your thigh.

Your breath hitches. “Do you like the dress?” You ask softly, teasingly. It’s nothing special, Carlos, you seem to say; it’s just a nightie.

His hand is rough against the thin skin of your leg, traveling upward. He gives you a nod in response; he does like it, the sheer material, the pink color, the loose way it hugs your body. Roughly, he voices his assent. “Come sit on my lap.”

“Wait,” you say, pouting. Your knee rubs softly against the material of his jeans, and you slowly sink onto your knees, hands placing themselves on your thighs. His grip goes from the back of your thigh to your hair, combing it softly, cradling your face.

“Let me,” you say, letting your silence imply everything unsaid. He’s going crazy, losing his mind.

“So pretty,” he says, nodding. his voice thin. “Go ahead, baby.”

The petname gets you dizzy. You lean forward, resting your face on the hard bulge in his pants, smiling up at him. You’ve got these big, doe eyes, begging him, and he’s not so sure he even has the upper hand anymore—he would do anything you asked, any request that left those pretty bitten lips. He gathers your hair in two hands, forms a messy, unclean braid, crisscross at the back of your head just so he has something to grip while he fucks your throat.

You make quick, deft work of unbuttoning his jeans, and he watches, leaned back on the chair, legs spread wide with bent knees on either side of your body, caging you in. Carlos’ eyes are half-lidded, a hand at your braid, bringing his beer to his lips, swallowing before he sets it onto the adjacent desk.

His cock is big—thick, intimidating—and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to fit the whole thing in your mouth without choking. It twitches in your palms the longer you stroke him, precum weeping from the head and slicking up your palms. Gruff expletives, in Spanish and English, slip past his gritted teeth and the sounds travel directly to your core, causing you to instinctively press your thighs together to soothe the ache blossoming there.

You take head of his cock into your mouth, feel it roll over your tongue, heavy and warm. Drool gathers in your mouth and your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs in anticipation. The hand wound around your braid, pressed against your head, presses heavier slowly, slotting the first few inches of cock into your mouth while avoiding the back of your throat. You relax, letting your lips seal around the length, cheeks hollowing and tongue lulling at the underside. He curses.

You continue bobbing your head, lewd noises leaving your mouth with every move you make; it embarrasses you, but also sends slick gushing out of you.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat; you cough, fingers heavy as they dig into the flesh of his still-denim clas thighs; drool trickles onto his balls. The hand remains there, though, pushing you and keeping you pinned in place as he slowly thrusts upward. You haven’t even gotten him all the way.

You gag and sputter, eyes fully watering the harder Carlos bullies his cock into your throat; you’re dizzy with arousal and submission, maybe one, maybe both, you’re too far gone.

“Easy,” he orders, and you will yourself to breathe nasally, relaxing, burying more of him in you. He loves seeing you like this, hair all pretty—his braid, too—and on your knees, trying your best to please him. “Being so good for me, good girl,” he says, losing resolve. You’re so pretty when you cry, eyes rimmed and bloodshot, tear streaks all over your cheekbones.

He ruts shallowly into your throat, every move punctuated by a guttural gag from your end—once, twice, a third time, before finally he releases you. You let out a cough, and a gasp, breathy, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. He doesn’t want to cum yet—not like this. You gaze up at him, big eyes anticipating, and he guides you upward, on the bed.

He kicks his jeans off and readjusts his briefs, watches you scramble to position yourself on the bed, sitting down properly. “Will you fuck me now?” You ask, your sweet voice raspy. He likes knowing he’s the reason why.

You inch yourself backward so you’re fully on his bed, a hand traveling to stop your tiny dress from riding up any further. He steps closer, one knee on the bed, caging you in again, and stops you. His gaze flickers down to your legs, forces your knees apart so he can see in between them. Your pretty cunt’s soaked through your panties. “Don’t hide from me,” he says, voice rough as he steps back off the bed and kneels beside it.

“Carlos,” you breathe, letting him have his way with you. Your mind’s all fuzzy, but it’s okay—he takes care of you.

Strong arms snake around your thighs and pull you toward him until your cunt is level with his face. His breath, warm, fans against you, muted by the thin fabric of your panties and it does nothing to help the unadulterated, dirty arousal throbbing in your cunt. He bites at the flesh of your inner thigh, then hooks two fingers into your panties and pulls them aside.

The taste of you is so good; it goes straight to Carlos’ head. And all of your embarrassed, whiny whimpers, the way your fingers knot helplessly into his hair as he drags his tongue up your cunt — that drives him absolutely crazy. He licks at your pussy, sticks his tongue in, nudges your clit with his nose, ekes whimpers and debauched moans out of your lips.

He pushes two fingers into you, doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking them in and out, moans spilling out of you involuntarily. It’s lewd, it’s dirty, getting his friend’s daughter all spread out for him like this, but Carlos loves it. More, you sob, more, please, I need—yeah—

His skilled tongue doesn’t let up, continues toying with you, licking up all the arousal oozing out of your cunt. He eats you, fucks you with his fingers, until your eyes are welling up with overwhelm and the need to release, your hands pulling at his long hair—your pussy dripping, quivering, right at the edge of your orgasm.

Any of the reservations you had are now out the window. Your grip on Carlos’ hair is tight, pushing his head deeper into your pussy and grinding against his mouth mindlessly.

I’m cumming—!

Your voice is so dirty, so lewd, so needy, when you finally finish around him, slick dripping out and your pussy twitching, clenching and unclenching around nothing as you release. Panting, you hoist yourself on your elbows, your braid surprisingly intact, and pout down at him.

“I said fuck me.”

“So you complain,” he responds with a coy smile, his lips shiny with your slick. You want him to fuck you stupid.

He does eventually, gets you all calm and lying down on the bed, knees to your chest. Your feet cross and uncross with anticipation. He lets his cock rest first on your stomach, where it twitches, smearing precum under your belly button.

“That’s where you’ll be,” you say, stroking him. When he finally does begin thrusting into you, he wishes he could save the image of your pretty eyes fluttering closed, puffy lips open in a whimper.

Your legs tremble with the size you’re taking, his hand gentle as it is firm on your hips, forcing you to take him, take him good, take him better. Good girl, he’s saying, good fucking girl. Inch by inch, you struggle to take all of him, his girth thicker than what your cunt is willing to take. You’re positive you’ll feel him in your stomach.

“Carlos,” you whimper, voice aching.

“Fuck,” is all he can muster, watching your pussy swallow him. “So tight.”

He’s drunk on the feeling of you, wet and clenching around him, so tight. He can tell you’re high on it too, on the stretch of him, the way you keep trying to meet every thrust, legs already beginning to tremble with pleasure and deep arousal. He bottoms out, an expletive leaving him in Spanish, and then slowly begins to fuck in and out of you.

He watches your face, the way your brows knit as you take him, take his cock, eyelides fluttering. “So good,” you moan, mouth open. He drops a glob of spit onto your tongue, tells you to swallow—you do, presenting your empty tongue to him. Good girl, prettiest girl—any and all praise leaves him in dizzy, heady breaths.

“Teasing me for so long,” he pants, his dick splitting you in half. “This what you wanted? Hmm?”

But even in your cloudy mind, you find the grit to retaliate, teasingly, a cloy smile on your lips. “You said it was wrong,” you gasp out with every thrust. “Fucking your friend’s daughter.”

“But you love it,” Carlos goads. “Do you?”

You nod, cockdrunk, but it’s not enough. “Use your words, pretty. You can do it.”

“I do, I love it. I need more,” you whine, getting off on his teasing, on the implication that this is all wrong, that neither of you should be doing this. “Needed this so much, Carlos.” You crack your eyes open to watch the bulge in your abdomen, the shape of his girth splitting you open. He slams into you harder and you try to squirm away, but he keeps you pinned in place.

“And if your dad walked in?”

You gush slick all over him. “Carlos,” you plead.

“Saw his daughter taking his friend’s dick?” He says it low into your ear, bending to make sure you hear all of it. “Taking it like a good girl, too.” He pulls out, slaps your ruined hole with his dick, then shoves it in deep again, groaning when you cry out—getting off on you whining about how sensitive you are, the way you tremble under him and around him. Your pretty little face, all sweaty and ruined.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m, Carlos—I’m gonna cum,” you say, nodding. You’ve probably cum twice already, little bursts of pleasure causing your cunt to twitch around him, sensitive. “Can I—?”

“That’s it,” he praises. “Come on, cum for me. Been so good for me.” You tremble around him as you finish, broken moans fucked out of you with every surge of his hips forward.

He’s close, too, having held off fucking you for the past how many days, and you can tell; his thrusts get shallower, faster, until his hips are stuttering and he’s panting your name out, long hair framing his flushed, pretty face. You reach up to comb a hand through it. “Cum inside me,” you beg, watching him go crazy, his nostrils flaring and eyes blinking quick.

He pumps his cum into you, thrusting several times as he rides it out, fucking you full of him, of his cum. You relish in the feeling, of being his girl, his good girl. “You’re a mess,” he comments, his face buried into your neck. He pulls out, both of you sighing at the sight and feeling of his cum dribbling out of you, onto the bed.

You unfold your legs, sitting up despite how sore you feel. Your dress is damp with sweat, and slick, and cum. “I feel a mess.” You pout.

“You look pretty.”

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You ask, voice meek. He nods, holds you tight as you both drift off, like he knows that you won’t be his to call his by the time the summer wanes and Comporta is left empty again.

—

“It’s the post-race interview,” Ali calls. “Hurry!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You hop into the living room, tossing her the bag of popcorn she’d requested you to cook. Fall has officially dawned upon the city, adorning it with orange and red leaves, jazz music and cold nights—and weekends watching races.

Around you, all your university friends watch with intense gazes at the winner of the latest Formula One grand prix—something none of you had been remotely interested in just months prior.

You watch, eyes glittering, at the winner. Tan skin, long hair, jogging over to the journalist. Sainz, what a stellar drive! She sounds awestruck, genuinely taken aback by his dominance on the track today. She asks for a message in Spanish, as always; a few words of inspiration, and then, just as a fun little tidbit—did you have a good luck charm today?

He smiles to himself, like he’s just heard an inside joke and seems to think for a minute. “No, not really.” Then he combs a hand through his hair. There, looped around his wrist, is a pretty, pale pink ribbon.

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz one shot #f1 x reader

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stevie-petey · 7 days

Text

episode one: suzie, do you copy?

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.” Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”

Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 9.6k

Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !

June 27th, 1985.

A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.

In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.

The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,

It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.

There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.

Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.

As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”

You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”

“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.

“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”

Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”

You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.

“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.

Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”

“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”

His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”

“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”

You gasp. “You’re lying!”

“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”

“What about Mike and El?”

“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”

Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”

“Please? I could be poor soon!”

“No, it’s not going to happen–”

“But–”

A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.

It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”

She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”

“Hello to you too, Henderson.”

You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”

“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.

Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”

Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”

You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.

“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.

“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”

Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”

Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”

“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”

Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”

You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”

Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”

Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”

“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.

“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.

Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.

He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”

Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”

You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.

Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”

You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”

Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.

–

When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.

The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”

But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.

In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.

A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.

The phone rings.

“Right on time, honey.”

“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.

Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.

Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.

“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.

Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”

“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.

“You two are the worst together.”

“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”

“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”

Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And yet you stay.” You tease.

“And yet I stay.”

You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.

–

The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.

It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.

By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.

It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.

Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.

Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”

The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”

You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”

“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”

The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”

She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.

Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.

You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?

At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.

Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”

“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.

There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”

You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”

Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”

Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”

Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”

“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”

“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”

Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”

You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.

The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.

You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.

“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”

Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”

“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.

You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.

Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”

You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.

Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”

You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.

Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”

Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”

He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”

Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”

You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.

–

Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.

Seems it’s time for their movie.

You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”

“Ow, Y/N!”

“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”

Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”

“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”

Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”

Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”

“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.

You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”

“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.

However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”

You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”

Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.

Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”

Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.

Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.

“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.

“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?

You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”

Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”

You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.

However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.

–

When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.

She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.

Robin, however, clearly has other plans.

“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.

“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”

“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.

Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”

Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”

“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”

“Okay, so what?”

“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”

Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”

“Technically I dumped her–”

“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.

Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”

Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”

“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.

“Harrington!”

There it is.

“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”

Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”

Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”

Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”

“You’re hopeless.”

–

“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.

You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.

After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”

Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.

It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.

It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.

Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”

Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.

Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”

“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.

“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.

Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”

Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.

You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”

Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”

The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.

Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.

“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.

“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.

Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”

“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.

Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”

The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”

“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.

Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”

You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”

Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.

Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.

“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.

You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.

“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.

A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”

Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”

“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.

“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”

You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”

Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”

“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”

You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.

As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”

Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”

“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.

“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.

You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”

“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”

“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”

You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”

From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.

Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”

“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.

–

“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”

The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”

The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”

“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.

The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”

“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.

“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.

“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”

Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”

“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.

“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”

“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”

“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.

“Since when?”

“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”

Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”

“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”

Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”

Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”

For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.

–

Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.

You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.

“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.

Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.

You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”

“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.

“You’re dating a Mormon?”

Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”

“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.

Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”

“Scary people–”

Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”

“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”

“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”

“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.

Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.

“But they were also star crossed lovers.”

“Who killed themselves.”

Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”

You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”

“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.

Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”

“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.

With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”

Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”

You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”

“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.

“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.

Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”

“It’s gross!” Will voices again.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”

“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”

You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”

Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”

Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.

You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.

“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.

“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.

At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”

“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.

You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”

“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.

Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.

Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.

“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.

“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.

Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”

More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.

You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.

“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.

“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.

Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.

Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”

“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”

“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.

Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”

“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.

Dustin gasps. “She exists!”

“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”

Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”

“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”

Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”

“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”

Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”

“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.

“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.

Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”

Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”

Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”

“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.

You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”

“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.

As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”

His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.

“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”

Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.

He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”

You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”

“Russian.” Dustin whispers.

Everything changes, then.

–

You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”

He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.

You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.

When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.

“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”

“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.

Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”

Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”

Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.

He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”

Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”

You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”

“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.

“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”

“Y/N, are you in danger–”

“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”

“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.

Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime, angel. You know that.”

And you do.

Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #fluff #angst #nya #m's writing

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worfs-fabulous-hair · 2 years

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Let's finish season one!

Series I'm currently on :TOS

Episodes watched: 01X28-01X30

Episode names:

The Alternative Factor

The City on the Edge of Forever

Operation: Annihilate!

Thoughts:

The Alternative Factor

"Captain" giant explosions

" the entire solar system blinked " " what the fuck do you mean it blinked "

This is already starting off to be a great episode

Ole dude in his tiny fucking flying saucer , just fucking dies upon meeting seeing other humans

He's not dead

The entire universe ' blinked ' apparently and everyone is expecting an invasion ?

Ole dude's having a seizure and possibly tripping balls

Also his name is Lazarus??? Oof he's already lived up to his name

I can see the writer sitting around that table giggling to themselves now

He's just screaming "KILL!!" Over and over and the way he's saying it is so funny

" I'm a bright young medic with a magical touch "

" dylithium crystals " turns around in the most dramatic way possible

This one actor is just staring directly into the camera with this look like she really does not want to be here

He's tripping balls again

Sparkly future bandaids

Lazarus is threatening Kirk and the ship but he also keeps looking down at kirk's mouth every 2 seconds

You'd think that starfleet wouldn't let a stranger that they don't trust and has threatened them just walk around a ship unsupervised

Lazarus just killed 2 people

This is why you shouldn't let him wander by himself

" I just tried to kill two people I didn't steal the dylithium crystals what evidence do you have to accuse me "

I wonder which one of the red shirts with the team is gonna die

They kept him wander off by himself again

He fell off a cliff and I know I shouldn't be laughing but the effects are hilarious

Lmao ole dude is a time traveler

" he's not going anywhere this time " he immediately gets up to go somewhere

Oop we're talking multiverse theory now

Their about to kill this man

He went somewhere unsupervised again and now the ship is on fire

Now he killed someone

I understand wanting to make sure he can't go through with his plan but Kirk shouldn't have gone after him alone , like why do the Captain's always go alone ?

Kirk crossed over into parallel universe

So the dude on the ship was the evil version and the dude he was saying was evil is actually the good version

Like every fight between captain Kirk and another man this fight reeks of homo-erotic tension

Portal destroyed

The City on the Edge of Forever

Right off the back alot is going on and Sulu is hurt

Time ripples ?

Bones landed on a hypo needle and is now over dosing

Bones just attacked a man and then beamed himself down to the time disturbance

The red shirts split up in the search of bones

A talking stone

" I am the time guardian , guardian of all time "

The stone just called Spock primitive

They want to go through a time Portal

McCoy went through the time Portal while still ODing

The landing party is stuck on the planet way before space travel was a thing with no way of getting bones or going back to the ship

Man this stone is just fucking with them at this point , you can't just say " oh I'm the guardian of all time, I control all of time " and then say that you can't control what time they have the ability to go into

Theft

" he's Chinese and he cut his ears off as a child in an automatic rice picker as a child and they were put back on like that by a plastic surgeon " grade A excuses from the most well known Captain in star fleet

Spock and Kirk really said " fuck the police " huh

Everyone just watching this happen and not doing anything

Kirk mansplaining , manipulating and manwhoring his way through the 1930s

They got jobs after breaking into a woman's business

Oh , she employs and shelters the homeless

Kirk's in love , that means she's going to die

She also predicted the entire future of earth

Sitting in an apartment in the past and putting together a computer or machine that's way to advanced for that time period seems to be a common trope in star trek and this seems to be the first time it showed up

Spock getting made fun of for always saying captain

Kirk your changing the future stop telling the woman about Vulcan

The machine is starting to work

Oh she is gonna die oof

Over dosing McCoy is back ! He has emerged from the shadows screaming and ready to fight

" DON'T RUN I'M NOT GOING TO KILL YOU , YOU'LL BE SAFE WITH ME ! WHAT PLANET IS THIS ???!!"

I would run to fam

He thinks he's in some sort of interactive museum

Now he's crying and rolling on the floor

He's passed out and has been mugged

The mugger just like evaporated himself or he teleported himself I'm not sure which

Jesus McCoy is walking around the street and he looks like the girl from the exorcist

He found the soup kitchen while Kirk and Spock watch a war documentary on wwII

McCoy is coherent finally !

And Edith hasn't told Spock or Kirk about McCoy

Spock is mad that Kirk stopped Edith from falling down the stairs becuase he could have stopped her from dying when she was supposed to

Kirk find out McCoy is there and runs off to find Spock and McCoy

"Spock ! SPOOOOCK !!!!!!"

That hug , oh my heart

Oh no Edith , shit man

This has to be the most wild 72 hours of McCoy's life

McCoy is mad that Jim stopped him from saving Edith

" you were only gone for a few seconds captain " " boy do I have a story to tell you "

Operation: Annihilate!

Last episode of the season here we go

A ship just flew into the sun

No wait this is the episode where we meet sam and he dies from the plague ???

They didn't think to maybe approach this as a biohazard scene even though they know that there is mass hysteria and don't know if it's caused by some sort of disease or not

They get attacked by men with clubs

Jim finds his brother dead

I know that it's sad that he just found his dead brother but it's also funny because it's just shatner in a brown wig and a fake mustache

" the things , those horrible things ! " " What things that not very helpful"

Jim's sister in law has passed away as well

His nephew is a ginger

These things look like chicken breasts with ketchup sprayed on them

They can fly

They can't be killed apparently and one attached itself to Spock

They got it off but now Spock's on the verge of passing out

I wonder who was in charge of making these things fly that would have been my favorite day at work if I were them

Did they change actors for nurse chapel or is it just the fact that she doesn't have a weird wig now

Spock woke up and ran out of sick bay

Just as they go to find him he barrels into the bridge and tries to take the ship

It take 5 people and heavy sedatives to stop Spock

Spock believes he can fight any ailment by continuously telling himself he is a Vulcan and shouldn't feel pain

Spock breaks his restraints and beats up Scotty

Paramount is terrible at ad placement they always play the commercial break scenes before they ad cut

Spock is down on the planet and being attacked

He's gonna stun one of the chicken breasts and and put it in an empty metal lunch box

First time seeing the science bay

The chicken breasts are giant cells

" I understand your affection for Spock " why is this show from the 60s so gay ???

I don't mean that in a bad way , this show is just so so gay lmao

" what other properties does the sun have ?" " It exists physically" that's not helping Spock

Jim's about to use one of those quantum beam flash lights you see the commercials for where you turn it on and it's suddenly as bright as day when it's the middle of the night

It took like a hundred scientist 3 hours of research just for the captain to figure out what they couldn't in 5 minutes while rambling to himself

McCoy is worried about Spock that's a rare occasion

Spock is blind now

Lmao they blinded Spock for nothing because they are killed by light that people can't see

The invisible light causes the chicken breasts to spontaneously catch on fire

McCoy is so mad that he made Spock blind

Spock can see again and vulcans apparently have a second set of eyelids to protect them from bright lights becuase of the Vulcan sun.

#next episode is amok time and im excited to watch it cause I've heard about it but haven't watched it before #also excited to finally see chekov in the next season #star trek #star trek tos #spock #star trek the original series #jim kirk #montgomery scott #nyota uhura #hikaru sulu #lenard mccoy #nurse chapel #sam kirk #i tried to explain the second episode to my brothers and they were so confused #the best way that i could explain what happened to mccoy is saying that he fell on a hypo filled with what is basically ketomine

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maplesyrupsainz · 4 months

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˖⁺｡˚⋆˙i told my friends u were the one | 2023 grid˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pt2

pairing: 2023 f1 grid x nepo baby y/n prost reader (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: nepo baby spoiled girl :) this is part 2!!!

summary: in which everyone's favourite nepo baby has to share her time between all the f1 garages

a/n: second part:)) any guesses on who she could be dating💌

request!!!!: I would love a smau with reader who’s a nepo baby but is everyone’s fave nepo because she’s just living life aesthetically and the grid loves her and she’s hinting at a soft launch (idrc with which driver)

my masterlist

part 1 • part 2 • part 3 •

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, carlossainz55, and 683,193 others

yourusername i guess the race season started

view all 8,193 comments

user1 this post screams my bf is f1 driver lance stroll

carlossainz55 ferrari garage missed you this weekend

yourusername i was preoccupied 😔

lance_stroll better luck next time

landonorris not fair y/n ur supposed to share ur time between all of us

yourusername i'll do better next week i promise

charles_leclerc you better

user2 got so many conflicting feelings

user3 ikr so many mixed messages likee

user4 as a y/n lover this race season is gonna be so fun

yourbff

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and 19,283 others

yourbff life following my best friend around the world

view all 4,183 comments

user5 IS THAT LANCE AND Y/N

user6 URMMM

user7 well

yourusername i love u so much im soo lucky 🍀

yourbff i love u

user8 i feel changed by this post

landonorris are u avoiding me y/bff/n

user9 he's always in everyone's business for no reason

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 702,928 others

landonorris slay

tagged: yourusername

view all 4,183 comments

user14 the caption

yourusername slayyy 🧡

danielricciardo of course ur behind all of the slaying

yourusername what's ur problem

oscarpiastri you slayed lando!

user15 why is everyone saying slay😭😭

user16 yet another spanner in the works

user17 LOL didnt lando confirm that they're just friends

charles_leclerc y/n orange doesnt suit you

yourusername will keep that in mind thanks

landonorris shutup charles

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 291,283 others

landonorris get over it

oscarpiastri you can ignore him & talk to me 😊

mclaren he's in trouble for this

yourusername oops

scuderiaferrari this would never happen at our garage

yourusername thank u ferrari ❤️

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 849,293 others

yourusername on race days we wear red ❤️‍🔥

view all 13,293 comments

user18 why is the most exciting part of race weekend seeing what teams garage y/n picks to hang out at

user19 no fr why is it so funny

scuderiaferrari and the crowd goes wild!

charles_leclerc looks much better ❤️

yourusername thanks i feel honoured fr

oscarpiastri anti slay😕

landonorris 😔😔

yourusername you had your chance !!

user20 not y/n bringing slay into the grid vocabulary

pierregasly we wanna join the competition y/n

yourusername of course you can contact my secretary and we'll be in touch 😊

lance_stroll im her secretary

yourusername no you arent

yourusername posted a story

liked by lance_stroll, pierregasly, and 362,193 others

landonorris hard launch when

user21 WHO IS HEEE

user22 whoever he is is the luckiest man alive i fear

user23 i wont rest until we get a hard launch

user24 could it be a ferrari driver considering she was there today😭😭

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 793,193 others

yourusername alpine was the most fun so far because it has kika

view all 5,283 comments

francisca.cgomes had the best time giggling with you.. come back soon

yourusername i'll be back as long as you are there😻

pierregasly okay? that's my gf can you relax

yourusername shut up pooerre

user25 POOERRE😭😭😭

estebanocon i love y/n!

yourusername i love estie bestie!

estebanocon 🤔

user26 im so obsessed with y/n being all over the grid every race weekend

user27 i love her so bad

user28 y/n prost u will always be famous

lance_stroll come back i miss you

yourusername aww you sweet sweet boy

user29 wait.. i love them

lance_stroll posted a story

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 548,023 others

user30 URM HELLOOO Y/N

alex_albon FREE HER

lilymhe we want her

maxverstappen1 you are hogging her

lance_stroll you snooze you lose

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, and 892,193 others

yourusername & here's to my real friends!!!!

view all 18,345 comments

landonorris ?? what the hell y/n

yourusername the last pic is me when the weekend ends & i have to leave williams garage

lilymhe you r so obsessed with us not even a pic of urself on this one

yourusername i would just distract from the pure slay vibes

logansargeant 💀 stop saying slay

yourusername no.

user34 lol y/n loves williams so much

user35 & when williams merch sales increase because of this post then what?

liked by yourusername and williamsracing

williamsracing we love you y/n! keep slaying

alex_albon not you too 💀

yourusername 😊😊😊

maxverstappen1 the order you have chosen to visit each team garage in is alarming

yourusername aww is maxie angy coz he wins everything but bitches??😕

danielricciardo HAHAHA

maxverstappen1 nevermind you are no longer welcome at red bull

user36 💀 poor max getting bullied

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, redbullracing, and 972,191 others

yourusername i remember this garage being much more fun when daniel ricciardo was around ...

view all 26,283 comments

user37 is she allowed to say that...

user38 one thing about y/n is she will always say whatever she wants

maxverstappen1 i respect the honest review i will do better next time

yourusername aww dont worry max emilian i had the best weekend 😊

kellypiquet ❤️❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

danielricciardo i just laughed out loud at this

danielricciardo this is such an unprovoked comment

yourusername omg yay it worked i got your attention

danielricciardo you need therapy

landonorris i've been saying this!

user39 daniel ricciardo stans rise

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, lilymhe, and 842,194 others

yourusername u were my daisy 🌼

view all 8,183 comments

user40 omg she's insanely beautiful

lilymhe please y/n give me one chance

yourusername one? i got a million for you

alex_albon ?

lilymhe why are you trying to ruin a special moment between two girls

charles_leclerc wow

danielricciardo wya y/n?

yourusername ur mum's house

landonorris are you from tennessee

yourusername dont you say another word

oscarpiastri slay 🧡

user41 🤔

yourbff how has ur side profile sent half the grid running away blushing

lance_stroll it's not just the side profile i fear

yourusername female gaze vs male gaze..

yourbff omg im living in hell

THE END 🤍

832 notes · View notes

chrisevansonly · 7 months

Text

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬..𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭? | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

ఌsocial media au

ఌcharles leclerc x female reader

ఌall good things come to an end…but for you and charles, is the end really the end?

ఌthis was requested by @luvrrish thank you so much for the request, i had a lot of fun with this one, i feel like i didn’t do it justice because i can only use 10 photos (annoying) but i might do a written version of this 😌🩷

F1WagNews

liked by username, waggossip, username and 10,000 others

well seems like everyone’s favourite couple is no longer together. charles leclerc and his longtime girlfriend of 7 years y/n y/l/n have accordingly split up. neither have commented on their breakup, but their shared photos have all been deleted from their social accounts and they have unfollowed one another. we wish them both the best in the future and will miss all the charles and y/n content we’ve gotten over these years!

remember to be respectful in their comments!

see 1,100 comments

username NO I REFUSE

username stop you’re lying…please :(

username im-i’m really a child of divorce now😭

waggossip oh this makes us sad :(

username i’ll never believe in love ever again

>username love is fake

>username was love ever real?!

yninstagram

liked by francisca.cgomes, leclerc_pascale, ellemagazine and 421,000 others

la façon dont les choses étaient avant me manque.

see 30,000 comments

username :(

username she looks so pretty!!!!

francisca.cgomes gorgeous girl, can’t wait to see you soon❤️

>ynisntagram i’m so excited😘

ellemagazine 😍😍😍

username im on team mother!!!

>username fr

leclerc_pascale le soleil brillera à nouveau bébé ❤️❤️

>yninstagram pourquois pas maintenant :(

username y/n and pascales comments :(

username maman leclerc loves y/n so much😭

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, apmmonaco, pierregasly and 1M others

singapore week. one of my favourites of the season, track action starts today 🇸🇬😘

see 26,000 comments

scuderiaferrari locked in let’s go❤️

username he looks so happy:(

username i miss y/n at the track and in his posts

carlossainz55 ready to go💪🏻🏎️

username i wonder if he misses y/n like she misses him….

joris_trouche bunny boy🐰

liked by charles_leclerc

leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️❤️

username knock ‘em dead charles you got this!!

yninstagram

liked by leclerc_pascale, lilyhme, charles_leclerc and 571,000 others

strawberries and sunshine🍓☀️

see 14,000 comments

username CHARLES IS IN THE LIKES?!

username okay those look so delicious

username she looks happier 🥺

leclerc_pascale c’est trop belle ma fille❤️

>yninstagram je t’aime maman😘

lilyhme strawberry tarts later??

>ynisntagram yes please!!

username wait isn’t lily in singapore…and then going to japan….

>username MOM AND DAD REUNION?!

arthur_leclerc how come those look better than the ones i picked 🤨

>yninstagram maybe i’m just better…??

charles_leclerc

liked by yninstagram, vistajet, antoinetruchet and 1.2M others

Next Stop, Japan🤍

see 17, 00 comments

username lets go japanese gp!!!

username wait y/n is in the likes here now…

y/ninstagram 🩷

liked by charles_leclerc

username Y/N COMMENTED WHATS HAPPENING

pierregasly wonder what has you smiling like that

>charles_leclerc mate stfu

>arthur_leclerc awww he doesn’t want to spoil it

>carlossainz55 bullying charles again? i’m in😁

username WHAT IF THEYRE BACK TOGETHER

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninstagram

liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, leclerc_pascale and 654,000 others

hello suzuka🤍

see 45,000 comments

username SHE IS GLOWING

username omg omg omg it’s happening

francisca.cgomes 😍😍😍😍

liked by yninstagram

charles_leclerc ❤️

>yninstagram ❤️❤️

username RED HEARTS I REPEAT RED HEARTS

leclerc_pascale mes bébés sont de nouveau ensemble❤️

liked by charles_leclerc and yninstagram

username war might be over?!

charles_leclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, wagsoff1 and 764,000 others

never let me go.

tagged charles_leclerc

see 67,000 comments

username WAR IS OVER

username my parents are back together 😭😭

username im sobbing

charles_leclerc never ever again baby❤️

>yninstagram i love you charlie❤️

username shes calling him charlie again🥹🥹

leclerc_pascale😘😘😘

liked by charles_leclerc and yninstagram

lilyhme this makes me so happy🥰

>francisca.cgomes me too!!!

>yninstagram i love you both sm🩷

username i can sleep peacefully at night again😌

scuderiaferrari our favourite love story continues❤️❤️❤️

liked by yninstagram and charles_leclerc

1K notes · View notes

kindestofkings · 5 months

Text

what came first, the chicken or the dickhead [2/3]

[smau]

f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)]

authors note: THANK YOU SOOO much for the love on part one guys I'm so overwhelemed 🥺 hope you guys enjoy this next part <33

yourusername

Liked by landonorris and others

yourusername I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now

Why? Oh, 'cause she's about kick off her first season with ferrari xx

view all 580 comments

landonorris shes in her reputation era 💅

yourusername i've trained you so well

ynfan1 I'm so excited to see you in that red car ❤️🔥

Racerbia I can't believe my bestie is a FERRARI DRIVER

yourusername I know can you believe it!! best of luck with your season this year <33

charles_leclerc I did not know you joining the team would result in me learning so many taylor swift lyrics

landonorris just you wait until she starts sending you fan theories.. yourusername charlie you'd get an A in taylor swift theory and lyric knowledge, dont fight it !! f1fan she calls him charlie they have to be dating!

ynfan1 charles_leclerc what's your favourite Tswift album?

charles_leclerc I think its Red charles_leclerc (TAYLOR'S VERSION THO) yourusername phew that was a close one

taylorswift never seen a getaway car driver look so good, knock em dead 🖤

yourusername omgomgomgomgomgomg mother, I mean miss Swift its an honour landonorris oh thats why shes inconsolably crying alex_albon is that what that scream was? ynfan2 shes been broken

scuderiaferrari

liked by yourusername and others

scuderiaferrari red era vibes with our dynamic duo locking it down here in bahrain! our two drivers are ready for sunday 👊

view all 290 comments

ynfan1 the power of yourusername, converting the whole ferrari team into being swifties 😂

yourusername you know it! I'm a swiftie first, a media nightmare second and THEN a f1 driver

f1fan enough with the pop culture comparisons. what matters is the race, not taylor swift. Let the performance do the talking

ynfan2 how sad is your little life??

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others

yourusername P3 babyyy, while your out here running your mouth still I'm busy getting on to that podium. Bahrin you were beautiful, thank you to the team and to charles for all the support this weekend, and just in general ❤️

congrats maxverstappen1 on opening the season with such a surprising (not) win! was a fun fight 😂

view all 290 comments

maxverstappen1 think you going to be a reoccurring problem now!

yourusername it me hi! im the problem its me xx (liked by taylorswift and others)

ynfan1 I never expected the f1/taylor swift cross over but i love this

f1fan making the tifosi so proud 👊❤️

maxfewtrell fantastic drive, so proud!!!

yourusername maxi my boy <3

charles_leclerc posted to their story!

-@carlossainz55 would never have done this to me 😞

f1wagsupdates

liked by yncharlesshipper and others

f1wagsupdates in the week coming to the monaco grand prix, it appears the two ferrari drivers are spending time together with leclerc's family! seems like a bit more than just teammate bonding 👀

view all 290 comments

yncharlesshipper wow the family, must be serious

ynlando4ever please please please be besties

ynfan1 its getting hard to be delulu about this 😀

yourusername posted a photo to their story!

Mwahahahah mama leclerc the women than you are

replies

charles_leclerc when did this exchange happen 😂 arthur_leclerc 😂 😂 😂 😂 landonorris troy bolten and justin beiber call they want hair tips x

yourusername

liked by susie_wolff and others

yourusername MONACOOOO its race day and you best believe I'm bringing my A game in defensive racing. il predestinato will break his monaco curse if its the last thing I do 😤

charles_leclerc starting p1 go slay this thing bestie!!

view all 486 comments

charles_leclerc the best 👊

scuderiaferrari teamwork makes the dream work 🔥

f1fan gasly could NEVER with the teamwork

ynfan1 ouch that bestie has gotta hurt 😬

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername and others

charles_leclerc best. day. ever.

winning in red and winning at home has always been the dream, thank you thank you everyone for the support in getting here! special thanks to yourusername for the incredibly defense and helping reach my dream 🫶

this one's for you, monaco!

view all 1k comments

scuderiaferrari we always knew you could do it 👊🔥

yourusername CHARLIEEE always knew you could do it !

carlossainz55 amazing felicidades

charles_leclerc thank you thank you

maxverstappen1 hate to lose but congrats mate!

pierregasly living out your destiny 💪 that was all you charles!

ynfan1 pierre try not to make a petty comment challenge: FAILED (liked by yourusername)

f1fan monaco belongs to you, il predestinato!!!

yourusername posted a photo to their story!

they both prefer each other over me guys help 😭😭

replies

landonorris my best girl 🥰 -> me?? so kind! landonorris 😑😑

I just tagged a few peps that I thought were waiting out for part 2! let me know if you're not comfortable being tagged :))

taglist: @kissesandmartinis @kissesandmartinis @vellicora @reidside @leclercin16

2/3 , part three is coming later tonight its gonna be fluffy i promise 💓

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1driver!reader #smau

499 notes · View notes

etoiile · 6 months

Text

"BE BRAVE"

starring chigiri hyoma!

synopsis: after being your roommate for a little over half a year, chigiri can say without a doubt that he's never met someone like you. you're sweet, funny, and just a great friend. but what happens when he wants to be more than that?

warning(s): not proofread but im p sure i didnt grammar correctly, mild swearing, gender neutral reader

notes: i want him your honor

"im back.." you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and practically throwing yourself onto the couch.

"well, dont you sound energetic." he joked as he turned off his phone and sat down next to you. "rough day?"

"ugh you cant even begin to imagine." you grumbled. "shit day. start talking. distract me."

"hmm..." he thought. "my day was pretty uneventful. i got let out early and just caught up on some stuff."

"who were you texting earlier? got any tea?" you questioned sleepily with a yawn. gossip sessions with chigiri were your absolute favorite. whenever he texted someone, there was usually some sort of news. plus, he gossiped like a girl and you were here for it. (sorry but chi is just so freaking canonically girlypop)

"nah. i wish, though. just talking to my older sister about some... stuff." he trailed off, racking his brain for a new subject.

"you hungry?" he asked, motioning towards the kitchen.

"yeah. will you carry me?" you asked tiredly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. you were too tired to move on your own.

chigiri rolled his eyes at you, but still let you climb onto his back regardless.

as he carried you to the kitchen, he couldn't help the way his heart would leap out of his chest every time you left out a sleepy groan or would shift a little in his hold before nuzzling into his back. he couldn't help but imagine being here with you, in this apartment, though not as roommates or even friends, but lovers. he couldn't help how he could never be mad at you, despite what he'd say. he couldn't help how every time you did literally anything, he could feel himself falling deeper in love with you.

"well, think about it this way, chi." his sister had texted. "you've got two choices before you. confess or dont. correct?"

"yeah"

"WRONG. there's only one choice. by doing nothing, youre doing nothing but self torture. you'll always be thinking about how much you want to hold her but cant, and you'll have to watch her go on dates and even get ready for them. obvi, thats no fun. imo, just go for it, honestly. gotta be brave, yk?"

at the time, chigiri said something along the lines of, "maybe i will, maybe i wont. we'll see." before turning off his phone to greet you.

now, as he thinks about his feelings, he's never been more sure. he's never felt this way about anybody else before. its not like his past relationship where it was thrilling and exciting but exhausting. the way he feels with you is different. you feel safe. warm. comforting. you feel like a warm, sunny breeze after a cold rain. you feel like home. you feel like warmth. you feel like love.

he gently set you down at the kitchen counter before heading to the fridge.

"we dont have much food because SOMEBODY forgot to buy groceries." he teased. "we have fruit, eggs, bread, tobiko roe, rice, and instant ramen."

"yeah, yeah. anyways.." you then started batting your lashes at him like a maniac. "would you mind making me some ramen, my dear, sweet chichi?"

chigiri's heart leapt at the use of the word "my." he could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he quickly turned around.

"yeah, yeah, as you command." he rolled his eyes (for the 349348th time) and got to work.

"dont forget the eggs!"

"just be brave," his sister had said.

pfft. "just be brave?" give him a break! it just wasn't that simple. he couldn't risk the friendship most beloved to him. he just couldn't!

he watched as the seasoning gently bubbled with the noodles as he gently stirred the pot with a pair of wooden chopsticks, humming along to a tune he'd heard on your playlist absentmindedly.

"CHIGIRI?!" you suddenly yelped, clearly taken aback.

"what? is something wrong?" he asked calmly but concerned, praying that you weren't hurt as he set down the chopsticks and ran to you.

his cheeks were met by your palms as you squished his face together. "you're humming "cruel summer" by taylor swift! ive done it! youre a swiftie!" you let go as you squealed and leaped for joy, jumping about.

"chigiri's a swiftie! chichi is a swiftie!"

he chuckled as he watched your antics when suddenly, you crashed into him as you jumped.

you looked up from his chest and were met with his gorgeous pink orbs. it stunned you for a moment. they were so captivating, like they were gently chorusing a beautiful melody. you felt yourself sinking into them when suddenly, you realized the position you were in.

there was maybe an inch or two separating your lips from his. flustered, you quickly drew back, though you didnt exactly want to.

"sorry! um, my bad. i was just thinking! about how your eyes? uh... about how taylor swift has... uh... actually, what am i saying I WAS ACTUALLY-" you stammered as you tried to find an excuse for lingering much too long in his arms. staring into his beautiful eyes. on his chest. his muscular, toned, delicious... STOP.

suddenly, chigiri felt something. it wasn't embarrassment, it wasn't anxiety, it was... bravery.

gently gliding over to your flustered and still stammering figure, chigiri took your hands and looked you in the eye, freezing you.

"y/n, youre my one of my best friends." he said, his melodic voice gently wafting through the air. he then gently leaned down to your ear and in a low whisper, said:

"the thing is though, i dont want you like a best friend."

you were left frozen.

"a lyric from "dress." not bad, am i right?" he asked with a sly grin.

as the great taylor swift said, (in "its time to go") when the words of a sister come back in whisper, he realized that his sister was, as much as he hated to admit it, right. all he needed was to be brave.

167 notes · View notes

torukmaktoskxawng · 8 months

Text

tsamsiyu ta'em - strangers like me

Masterlist - part ten

Summary: Kayla continues to learn about island life with the Metkayina and also learns a bit more about her teachers along the way. Tonowari and Ronal find their student strange and intriguing.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 6k+

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @motheroffae @undeniableadrenaline @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @sucker4angstt @inolaphoenix @ilovechickenwings tojisleftarm andyfromku @ivysully

A/N: I am so sorry for my absence! I wish I have a good excuse for being absent, but the truth is I'm not doing so hot in the real world rn. My job is cutting back hours and I barely have enough for rent. I'm getting a second job next month so hopefully, things smoothen out.

Here is the long-awaited update that I will kick myself for delaying in exchange for obsessively crying over Good Omens Season 2. Let the montage of Awa'atlu life commence! Again, thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

Note: The title is named after the Phil Collins song "Strangers Like Me" because Tarzan and Avatar just go together XD

To avoid having Ronal hunt her down again, Kayla got up earlier the next morning and made her way back to the village to join her brother's family for breakfast before her lessons. Kiri was definitely doing better and Tuk was excited that her aunt had decided to see them off before their busy days. After pleasant conversations and the promise to meet before their midday meal, the kids took off to pursue whatever they planned for the day. Kayla stood up with the intention of going to find either the tsahik or the olo'eyktan and so Jake walked her out of the marui as they talked.

"So Neteyam mentioned that you guys talked about what happened between Lo'ak and Ao'nung," Jake started off.

'Oh, boy, here we go,' Kayla thought as she tilted her head to glance back at him, feigning partial innocence, "Yes? What about it?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to let you know that it's already been handled, and it sounds like the boys are actually getting along now. Neteyam also mentioned that you didn't get to meet Ao'nung yesterday so I wanted to make sure you knew this before you went looking for a fight with the kid."

"Jake, how young do you think I am?" When his face twisted with hesitance, she rolled her eyes, "Don't answer that. What I'm trying to say is that I'm not a child, I'm older than I look, and believe it or not, I do realize this. You don't have to worry about me... but you could've been a little nicer to Lo'ak."

Jake refrained from also rolling his eyes, knowing his sister would say this. He wasn't blind. He was well aware that Kayla would always be quick to defend his youngest son, no matter what he did. Jake was half-convinced that Lo'ak could get away with murder as far as his aunt was concerned, "He knew he wasn't allowed to go beyond the reef but he went anyway. He was at fault as much as Ao'nung."

"I get that, but it feels as though Lo'ak received more punishment than the boys who actually put him in danger, and for what?"

"For picking fights."

"No, for defending his sister," her eyes narrowed, "Not that you would know what that means."

Jake took the verbal lashing in stride, internally sighing, "I can't punish the chief's son for what he does against my kids, Kayla."

At first, Kayla had every intention of cursing her brother out, but instead paused and tried rephrasing her response. Her eyes drifted to the reef while she recalled far-off memories, "I remember Mom and Dad were allowed to punish the neighbor kids if they misbehaved with us and no one would bat an eye."

The mention of his old life irked him, and he wasn't afraid to show that in his deep snarl, "Well, Mom and Dad aren't here and we're not on Earth," her posture visibly stiffens but doesn't interrupt. Jake's wave of anger is immediately replaced with guilt, so he opts in taking a breath before he could say anything else he might come to regret, "Things are different here. So be civil and keep the peace. Don't go picking fights with teenagers."

"I won't," she mutters darkly, the coldness in her eyes returning as she side-eyes him, reminding Jake that he still wasn't out of the storm regarding her, "That's what you're here for."

She doesn't stay long enough to hear whatever rebuttal he might have in mind. Instead, she walks down the pathways leading further into the village before calling back, "I'll see you later."

Tail lowered in distress and possibly shame, Jake could only turn back to the marui and try to go about his day as he normally would. He knew he deserved the petty insults and his sister's aggression toward him, especially after all the radio silence she had endured for months while he was here experiencing a new way of life, on top of everything else. He just wished Kayla could manage to let go of all the pain and anger like he did when he first began to learn the ways of the Omatikaya. Physically, Kayla's avatar hasn't changed apart from the new Na'vi trinkets she had added to her standard-issued cargo shorts and crop top. However, Jake had hoped her mentality toward him would change the more she learned how to be Na'vi.

He knew he was a fool to get his hopes up so soon.

Walking through the village, Kayla went down the same route Ronal had brought her yesterday, hoping she would catch sight of the tsahik. Again, there were some stares from the Metkayina, but they didn't last as long as the day before and the reef people didn't look as bothered by her appearance. The Na'vi go about their day without much acknowledgment to Kayla, and before she knew it, she had made it to her destination, the craft huts she had met Tsireya just the other day.

It wasn't hard to find Ronal among the crowd of mottled skin patterns. Her accessories, tattoos, and rounded stomach are a dead giveaway, and the tsahik easily found Kayla in the crowd in turn, though it wasn't as hard, given the circumstances. Ronal's eyes visibly squint when her gaze lands on Kayla, then the Na'vi woman pulls away from her task to rise and meet the avatar. Another Na'vi stands to join her, a teenage boy and Kayla had an inkling who it was.

When Ronal approached Kayla, she motioned to the boy behind her, "My son, Ao'nung."

Smiling timidly, Kayla greets Ao'nung as respectfully as possible, though even she could admit her smile was tighter than usual. Ao'nung didn't say a word back, instead deciding to simply nod and avoid eye contact. His ears drooped and his head lowered like this was torture for him. Clearly, he was being coerced into being here with Kayla, but she decided not to fault him for it. Perhaps he's already being punished enough for his wrongdoings that he didn't need Kayla to torture him further about it.

Ronal doesn't appear to notice nor care for Ao'nung's discomfort and sternly stated to Kayla, "We will be teaching you how to communicate underwater. Do not fall behind or you will be left behind."

Kayla refrains from the small smile that threatened to escape her. Ronal's words vaguely reminded her of Neytiri's way of teaching Jake both from the stories she heard and the video log Jake had recorded. As Jake had once phrased it, 'Learn fast or die.'

With that in mind, Kayla doesn't complain and silently follows Ronal and Ao'nung away from the craft huts and further down the pathways. It didn't take long before they brought their guest to a large marui. It wasn't as big as the communal pod for the feasts, but it was significantly taller and wider than the normal ones Kayla has seen, including the Sullys' marui. She took note of the different colors of weaving and decorations adorning the home, such as the totem and skimwing skull hanging over the front entrance in greeting, a small windchime of shells softly dancing in the warm breeze. If Kayla had to guess, this was the olo'eyktan and tsahik's pod. Soon after stepping inside, both Ronal and Ao'nung lower to the ground, sitting back on their legs and Kayla does the same, proceeding to listen as Ronal starts off the lesson.

Nothing eventful happened as Kayla learned the Metkayina equivalent of sign language. Ao'nung never said a word regarding Lo'ak or any incident that happened with Kayla's nieces and nephews prior to her arrival. In fact, Ao'nung didn't say a whole lot other than chiming in a time or two to help Kayla with the lesson. Perhaps he never said a word outside of the subject of his people's sign language because his mother had been giving him sharp looks throughout the whole lesson. It was hard to miss. Ronal wasn't exactly a subtle creature. She openly expressed whatever she was feeling, unafraid of hurting someone's feelings, not even her son's, it would seem.

It was amusing to find all the similarities between the mother and son, both physically and spiritually. Their glare, eyes, and even their pout were the same. Kayla even dared herself to look a little closer without getting caught and noticed that Ao'nung inherited the same mole as his mother's, both spots found above their lip, on the top right side.

She must have lost track in time as the suns rose higher in the sky. Before she knew it, her next teacher had shown up to take her to her next destination. Tonowari stepped up into the marui, his large frame blocking the majority of the light coming in through the entryway. His gaze brushes over Kayla and Ao'nung before his eyes land on the tsahik, "Ma Ronal. Is this a good time?"

One of Kayla's ear flick to the side at the term of endearment, glancing over to the woman in question who only firmly nods and stares back at Kayla, "Go on. My mate will continue your riding lessons from yesterday."

Kayla mutters her thanks and stands up to join Tonowari. As they turn toward the exit, the olo'eyktan points back to his son, "Ao'nung. Remain with your mother."

"But, Father--"

"Do not question me, boy," the tone in Tonowari's voice was a little louder and stronger than normal, and even Kayla could feel her spine straightening up, despite not being under his scrutiny. Kayla briefly glances back at Ao'nung and notes the way he shrinks in on himself, still unable to look her in the eye, clearly embarrassed. Kayla looks away and follows Tonowari out of the marui, shadowing his footsteps as he addresses her, "I apologize for my son."

For the moment, Kayla had the empathy to pity the teenager and decided to soften the blow against Ao'nung, "There's nothing to apologize for. He was a pleasant enough teacher."

His voice had reverted back to its normal tone, significantly smoother and kinder on the ears, "Did you learn well?"

"I think so. It's not that different compared to what the Sky People have," when he flashed a questioning glance over his shoulder at her, she further explained, "They have a language that requires hand motions, too."

He doesn't question it further, instead looking back ahead and leading Kayla down to the docks. The ilu anxiously await their arrival in the water below, clicking and calling excitedly as Tonowari pulls a harness over one of their heads. The two adults get into the water and stand beside the earnest ilu, Tonowari trying to calm the creature whilst Kayla makes tsaheylu. She mounts the creature with ease, remembering yesterday's lesson and dreading the idea of falling off again as Tonowari begins reassuring her, "You need to exude confidence. Tell the ilu that you will command them and you will be respected by them. Do not give them space to come up with their own ideas."

She takes a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and nodded, waiting until Tonowari steps away before commanding the ilu to move forward using only the bond connecting them to each other's thoughts. The creature obliges and all appears to be going smoothly. Kayla manages to instruct the ilu to swim faster before eventually sinking underneath the water's surface. The ilu picks up speed and even as she clings on for dear life, Kayla could already feel her grip loosening. Angry and determined, Kayla tightens her thighs around the saddle of the creature and demands her bonded steed to leap out of the water and let her breathe, no room for nonsense.

To her shock and delight, the ilu chirped happily and sprung out of the water like a bullet, briefly flying through the air and allowing Kayla to take a breath before diving back in. She was so shocked that she almost lost her grip before regaining composure and asking the ilu to do it again, in case she had only imagined her success. The ilu was ecstatic to leap out of the water again and did so without a fuss, and this time, Kayla laughed as the shock wore off.

On the surface, the woman is met with a small audience. Lo'ak, Neteyam, and Tsireya were out riding their own respective ilu that afternoon before briefly pausing to watch a school of fish swim all around them, tickling their feet. Just as Kayla appeared to finally be getting the hang of riding an ilu, the teenagers caught notice of her as well. Lo'ak is the first to spot her, cupping his hands over his mouth as he crows in encouragement, "Go, Auntie! Woo-hoo! Yeah! You got it!"

Kayla laughs as Neteyam and Tesireya begin to cheer her on as well, their voices carried by the winds as Kayla and her ilu dive into the water and back out again. By the time Kayla remembered herself and returned to her teacher, Tonowari had his arms crossed but otherwise appeared pleased by her improvement, tail leisurely swaying behind him with curiosity.

~~~~~~~~~

Weeks go by since Kayla first arrived in Awa'atlu, and despite having to adapt to yet another completely different culture, Kayla had to admit that it was getting easier as time went on. She originally thought the ways of the Metkayina were a cakewalk compared to the Omatikaya, but maybe it was because she learned from the Forest People first that made learning from the Reef People easier than she originally thought it would.

She makes sure to reiterate this to Norm and the other humans every time she sees them. When everyone in Awa'atlu is meant to be resting, Kayla retreats to her campsite and secures her avatar form before closing her eyes and breaking the neural link. The next time she opens her eyes, it's within the link gurney back at High Camp. Norm and Max are always there to greet her, asking about her headaches and other health problems. There were days even Kayla had to admit were rough. After spending so much time in her avatar form, it's starting to strain the link connecting herself to her human form and it causes massive headaches every time she breaks a new record of not reporting back for days on end. To distract her friends from lecturing her, Kayla just updates everyone on Kiri's condition and relays any messages Jake or the rest of the Sully family wanted her to bring. In return, the scientists or even the Na'vi, such as Txe'la and Meui, would update her on any information regarding Ardmore or any Sky People activity.

She's always left disappointed when they say the same thing. No one has seen Spider.

Trying not to let the news discourage her, Kayla always wakes back up in her avatar form in better spirits so as not to worry Jake and his family. Kayla continues to treat the days as normal, continuing her lessons and helping out in any way she can so as not to overstay her welcome. When she wasn't following Tonowari or Ronal around, Kayla was usually in the company of her nieces, nephews, and their new friends.

Tsireya was one of those friends, and she was such a sweet girl who would happily entertain Kayla in any endeavor. When she wasn't busy, one of Kayla's favorite pastimes was helping Tuk and Tsireya find seashells for their hair and any jewelry idea they had in mind. Tsireya, as Tuk said, knew all the best spots where the shells were always fully intact and not crushed into pieces by the harsh tides. During these little adventures, Kayla, Tuk, and Tsireya would learn more about each other, bonding over the fact that they were all their families' younger sisters.

The sign language was easier than the verbal language, but Kayla felt as though she had a rug pulled from beneath her feet when Ronal knowingly stated that she was going to be teaching her student a third language. The tsahik, with the help of other Metkayina, began to teach Kayla the language of the tulkun, the sea creature Kayla learned to be the spiritual animal and companion to the Reef People, as the ikran is to Forest People. Apparently, not even Kayla's nieces and nephews have progressed as far as learning the tulkun language yet, and they became ecstatic to realize that they would be learning this alongside their aunt. Joining Ronal in these lessons with Kayla and the Sully kids would also be Tsireya and Rotxo, which only excited the forest kids more. Ronal wasn't as pleased with her own student when she caught Kayla fondly watching the children interact more than once.

Kayla had to learn this extra language on top of her breathing lessons, the latter of which was taught by both Tonowari and Ronal. Sometimes they would teach her separately, and other times they would do so together, but whatever the case may be, it didn't matter to Kayla. She would carefully listen to whoever was teaching her, and sometimes she listened so intently that she caught herself observing her teachers a little too closely.

Like Tonowari's eyes for example. Kayla noted they were a light blue at first as she sat cross-legged across from him while they practiced breathing exercises. But upon closer inspection, Kayla noticed specks of green engulfed by those blue orbs, like clumps of islands surrounded by warm sparkling oceans.

He was a clenched fist with a gentle touch. Kayla greatly admired him for being someone who could easily take advantage of his strength and position above his people but chooses to be kind and soft-spoken instead.

It was fascinating for Kayla to see just how different the Metkayinas' eyes were compared to the Omatikayas'. Whereas every Na'vi of the Forest had orange or yellow cat-like eyes, the ones who live off of the reef had rounder and bigger eyes, not to mention they had a variety of different shapes, sizes, and colors.

Like Ronal's eyes. The opposite of her mate's, Kayla noted that Ronal's eyes were more green than blue, with specks of a warm, gold color, like a sunset reflecting off the ocean surface.

She was orphic, but that's as far as Kayla allowed herself to describe the tsahik.

There was plenty to say about Ronal, but Kayla thought it best not to linger on any of the words bouncing around in her head. It was clear to her that the tsahik will always disapprove of Kayla and her presence among the Metkayina, so Kayla didn't want to compliment the Na'vi woman too much, especially since she doesn't intend on staying for very long.

Her stay was still very much temporary, at least in Kayla's eyes, as she still intends on going back to the forest to find Spider. For now, however, she was content with her small campsite just inside the treeline of the Metkayina island, a campsite that Ronal appears to disapprove of along with everything else about Kayla. The tsahik still has to occasionally venture out and find Kayla among the trees if she is in need of the avatar woman, like today when Ronal had the mind to take the time to find Kayla. It wasn't hard since the demon had kept her promise and never moved her campsite so she would be right where Ronal could find her. Still, Kayla was apologetic when Ronal found her and the tsahik begrudgingly told the foreigner to follow her back to the village.

Ronal brings her to the shoreline and recruits her to help fix an ilu pen that had begun to wither with age. Tonowari was already hard at work on it and briefly looked up to greet the two women when they sat down on the edge of the pathway and gracefully slipped into the water with him. After a brief instruction from him, Kayla gets to work in silence, and Ronal isn't opposed to doing the same. The silence wasn't as awkward as they were in the past, but out of the corner of her eye, Kayla could clearly see that something was bothering the tsahik, as Ronal wasn't ashamed of openly frowning while watching Kayla work. She didn't appear to be glaring in disapproval, but she looked... frustrated. It was as if she was trying to figure out a complicated puzzle. Kayla briefly glanced at the Na'vi positioned on the other side of her and noticed that Tonowari was much more subtle than his mate. Unlike Ronal, he only snuck glances at Kayla and her work here and there and did his best to hide whatever expression was on his face.

"Am I doing it wrong?"

"No. You're doing well," a compliment was not what she was expecting and it shows as Kayla's ears perk up and her eyes briefly widen. Ronal pointedly ignores the reaction and blatantly asks, "Why do you not stay with your brother's family at night?"

Kayla looked at Ronal, nose scrunched slightly in confusion, all the while completely unaware of the stare Tonowari sent to his mate from above Kayla's head, "Why would I?"

"Group sleep is also customary in the Metkayina."

"What's a group sleep?"

By Eywa, did the Omatikaya teach this alien woman anything? Ronal huffs out an irritated sigh, "Families sleep in large groups, usually in their swaynivi. Some clan members will sleep alone or with their mate just as long as they return to their family's nivi in a short period of time. Otherwise, they're deemed spiritually unhealthy. It is unsafe for one to sleep alone."

"I see," Kayla's ears pin back and her posture straightens, understanding the question now while pointedly staring down at her work on weaving the ilu pen together instead of addressing Ronal, "Well, where I'm from, that's called an invasion of privacy. I would assume that the families who sleep in large groups mostly contain parents and their children, correct?"

She doesn't wait for a response as she further explains with a small distaste in her mouth, "Since I'm neither of those, I don't want to invade my brother's and his children's privacy. Thank you for your concern, but I've been alone for a very long time. I can assure you that I am just fine with the sleeping arrangements I have now."

Even Ronal can sense a dismissal when she hears it in Kayla's voice. It was clear that the alien woman didn't want to further discuss this topic and so the tsahik didn't push it. Returning to her work, Ronal now briefly shared a glance with Tonowari but he pointedly kept his mouth closed during the whole conversation and after.

Luckily, the silence is saved by Neteyam as the teenager arrives with a purpose, slightly bouncing over the pathways above the adults' heads, "Auntie. My father is looking for you."

Kayla's discomfort visibly melts before Tonowari and Ronal's eyes. She looks up and smiles at the Na'vi boy, "Tell your father he can come and get me himself next time instead of sending you out. You should be elsewhere, enjoying the reefs and hunting with your friends."

She briefly turned back to the clan leaders, silently asking for approval to leave with her eyes flicking between the two Metkayina. Both nodded and openly watch as Kayla turns back to Neteyam, smiling up at her nephew as she rises up onto the pathway and follows him out, gently shoving him once to get him to pick up the pace so she didn't trip on his heels.

Neteyam huffed a small laugh as they walked, but the sound falls in replace of shame. He was visibly acting a little shy as he avoided eye contact, "I am sorry that I told my father about our conversation. I should have asked for your permission."

"Hey, no harm," she nudged him, "It's not like our talks are meant to be a secret or anything. It's nice that you can trust your father with everything; trust him enough to talk about whatever you want. As long as you're comfortable, kiddo."

"Was your father not like that?"

Kayla bit her tongue to refrain from visibly wincing, staring directly ahead instead of at her nephew, "No. I don't think he was. Not from what I can remember. Mostly I relied on Tommy and your dad growing up."

"What was my father like as an older brother? Am I like him?"

Kayla briefly grew quiet as they walked, pondering about how she could best word this to her oldest nephew. She tried seeing Jake in Neteyam, she really did, but whenever she tried comparing the teenager's best traits, they only remind her of Neytiri. And when Kayla thinks about Jake, all the pain and other torture he had put her through both intentionally and by accident, she couldn't even fathom Neteyam doing the same thing to his own siblings. Physically and mentally, deep down she knew that Neteyam was nothing like his father, and she was secretly grateful for that.

So instead of agreeing, Kayla simply smiled while staring the teenager in the eyes so he could see her sincerity, "No, 'Teyam. You're like Tommy. He was the older brother. When it comes to how you treat your siblings, you remind me of him, and I think your father sees it, too."

~~~~~~~~~

When Ronal isn't busy with her duties as tsahik or teaching Kayla, she is making sure Neytiri also adapts to their way of life. Although the former tsakarem had been comfortably accustomed to island life by the time her sister-in-law joined her family, Ronal still takes Neytiri into the jungle for a second pair of hands to gather the needed plants and herbs for her stock. Today was no different as the two women stumbled across a large jungle tree, larger than any of the others around them. Instead of following Ronal's suggestion to skip this tree and its healing fruits in exchange for a shorter one, Neytiri stops and shakes her head. Ronal was adamant about moving on since she was in no condition to climb and wasn't built to climb trees even if she wasn't currently pregnant.

Neytiri still shook her head in defiance and simply said, "You need Forest People."

The Forest woman opens her mouth and calls out at the top of her lungs, causing Ronal's ears to twitch in response to her whooping and cawing. Notifying her family about her location, it didn't take long for Jake, Kayla, and all the Sully children to come running to Neytiri's call.

Neytiri proudly smiles at her family while explaining why they had been summoned, "Our tsahik needs the fruit from the top of this tree and the ones surrounding it."

The others take a moment to look at one another before Kayla breaks the silence, briefly tapping Tuk's shoulder before running off, "'Last one to the top is a rotten egg!"

Tuk squeals and immediately chases after her aunt. The older Sully kids smile and break into fits of laughter, following suit and running after Kayla and their little sister. They all leap up, grabbing onto the lower branches before lifting themselves up, climbing expertly higher without their arms protesting the weight of their bodies. Ronal watched them climb higher and higher, keeping her expression stoic while observing the way Kayla makes the collecting and scavenging into a game for her nieces and nephews, challenging them to see who can gather the most fruit. In the corner of her eye, Ronal could still see Neytiri standing beside her, also watching the trees and smiling fondly up at her family. Jake soon stands beside his wife, hands on his hips while watching his sister and his children with a careful eye.

It was then did Ronal address Toruk Makto directly, flashing a face of disapproval, "Does your sister always act so childish?"

Jake's posture stiffens and he struggles to find the right words under the tsahik's watchful eye, "Well-! Uh..."

"No, only with the children," Neytiri answers for him, eyes hardened when they meet Ronal's as if daring her to speak again, "She plays with them because she wants to remind them that they are still just that. Children."

~~~~~~~~~

Kiri woke up bothered about something and everyone could tell. That girl didn't know how to hide her feelings no matter how badly she wanted to, the definition of an open book. Even though no one knew why she was upset, they could clearly tell that whatever it was, it had something to do with her aunt. Kiri wasn't necessarily cold to Kayla, but the teenager would go quiet and only speak in one-word responses whenever the older woman spoke directly to her.

Kayla decided that she needed to fix whatever was going on between herself and her oldest niece, so she offered to take the children out as the afternoon slipped into the evening. Neytiri suggested bringing them swimming through the reefs to collect barnacles and other underwater plants for tonight's supper, a passing time a lot of the villagers tend to do. Kayla takes up the idea and presents it to the Sully kids, who all agree to go, some more enthusiastic than others.

Tuk immediately splashes into the water and her brothers chase after her. Meanwhile, Kayla and Kiri linger on the beach, watching them disappear into the ocean. Kayla had tried breaking the tension with a small smile, "So when are you gonna show me how to use those underwater fairy wings?"

She was hoping for a small laugh or even a smile, but Kiri does neither. Instead, she looks sad and distracted, looking out over the horizon where the sky meets the sea, daydreaming of other lands... of home. Kayla bravely touches the girl's shoulder, and when Kiri looks up, her aunt could see the concern plain on her face. The avatar woman squeezes Kiri's shoulder, "What is it?"

Kiri bites the inside of her cheek before giving in, letting out a small sigh, "When are you going back to the forest?" She quickly understands how that could easily be misinterpreted and corrects herself, "It's just that-- you promised you'd look for Spider. And yet, you're here and he still hasn't been found yet."

Kayla relaxes both in posture and touch, removing her hand from Kiri's shoulder and instead letting it fall to her side, "I'll likely be gone by the end of the week, but for Norm's peace of mind, I'm going to be running a few tests on you so he and I both know you'll be okay," silence follows and Kayla reaches out once more, letting her hand gently grasp Kiri's arm, "Kiri, look at me."

The teen does so, a little belligerent at first. Upon staring up at her aunt, Kiri could see the determination in her eyes that closely matched Kiri's father's. Kayla tilts her head down to try and stand more at Kiri's height before softly explaining, "I haven't given up. And you might find it pointless to keep an eye on you after what happened, but I don't, and I don't think Spider would either. Think about it, kiddo. Spider would want us to make sure you're alright before we ever went looking for him."

Kiri ducks her head and watches her toe make shapes in the sand beneath her feet, "I know... but that doesn't mean I have to like it. He deserves to be put first for once."

Silence lingers between the two of them before Kayla simply says, "You're right."

Kiri doesn't wanna look up to see whatever expression was on her aunt's face. Instead, Kiri takes her arm and drags her to the water, "Come."

"'Where we going?"

"You said you wanted to learn how to use a txampaysye."

Kayla's nose scrunched up, testing the word on her tongue with bitterness, "How do you even spell that??"

Kiri manages to loosen up and laugh before they both held their breath and sank down into the water, sinking until they joined the rest of the Sully children. They introduce Kayla to txampaysye -gill mantle- and instruct her on how to use it in order to breathe underwater. Kayla wasn't far off. The gill mantles really did look like fairy wings, but other than maybe a few comments or stories, none of the Na'vi children would know what exactly a fairy was. The children and their aunt spend the evening doing as Neytiri suggested, gathering underwater plants and barnacles alongside other Metkayina, most of whom all wore the txampaysye. By the time the communal dinner rolled around, the Sully family was exhausted, but content all the same.

~~~~~~~~~

A peaceful morning where the Sullys invite Kayla over for breakfast goes uneventful until they're rolling up their nivi after a good night's rest. Their peace is interrupted by a horn, followed by whoops and hollers of celebration coming from outside. Confused and on edge, Jake and the kids emerge from the marui, looking around as the Metkayina jump around and dive into the water, making the newcomers curious as to what was going on.

Their answer came in the form of Tsireya, astride an ilu as she waved down her people from the water below their homes, "The tulkun have returned! Everybody! Our Brothers and Sisters have returned!"

Kayla looked up toward the atoll wall protecting the village from less docile nature. Emerging from the tunnels and pathways underneath the wall were rolling waves indicating something large below the water. Spurts of seaspray spring out like geysers from beneath the ocean's surface. It was a large pod of whale-like creatures, massive and slow. Their descent onto the village was graceful and one that brought much joy to the Metkayina as they couldn't get in the water fast enough.

The Sully kids couldn't wait either, jumping from the walkway around their home and into the water below. They scatter, exploring the new creatures one way or another. Tsireya had grabbed Lo'ak when she spotted him and pulled him onto her ilu, swimming away to introduce him to her Spirit Sister. Jake summoned his tsurak and both he and Neytiri take off to observe the sacred animals themselves. Rotxo had come around and pulled Kiri and Tuk away too, leaving Neteyam and Kayla to wander. Ao'nung was not far behind his friend, however, and invited Neteyam to come along with him to find his own Spirit Brother. Earning a small reassurance from his aunt, Neteyam doesn't hesitate to jump in and both teenagers each grab an ilu and take off, making a game of chase with Ao'nung in the lead.

Neteyam kept close to Ao'nung the entire time. The chief's son leads Neteyam through the chaos expertly, the two of them swimming quickly around a particular tulkun. Kiri, Tuk, and Rotxo were hanging onto the bull's fin and gliding peacefully through the water, the tulkun likely the reef boy's Spirit Brother. Neteyam was only able to catch a glimpse of this as they swim by, keeping close to Ao'nung's tail and playfully chasing him.

Jake had been leisurely swimming his skimwing through the maze of tulkun and Metkayina before glancing off to the side and perking up. Reaching back and tapping Neytiri's thigh to grab her attention, he waits until her eyes are on him before pointing out the sight he stumbled across. Following her husband's gaze and finger, Neytiri spots a mother tulkun and her calf, the smaller whale-like creature keeping close, mostly under its mother's fin or belly. Neytiri smiled with delight, her heart melting at the picture.

Kayla had been floating above the surface, watching the vast sight of tulkun from up top the back of an ilu she had successfully summoned. She didn't venture very far until the olo'eyktan sought her out. She noticed his tsurak first, flying above her head before gracefully sinking into the water, folding in its webbed fins. Tonowari brings it back around and swims up to Kayla's side, a determined smile on his lips, "We must put all that you learned to the test. Come meet my Spirit Brother and see how well you can understand and communicate with him."

She nods and dutifully follows him into the water after taking a deep breath. They submerge and take off, weaving through and around the large bodies of tulkun, dodging other ilu and Na'vi while Tonowari keeps his pace slow for Kayla's ilu to catch up. Underwater, Kayla can get a better look at the tulkun, and to her amazement, she realized that most of them were tattooed like their respective Na'vi. Eventually, they come across a large bull and Tonowari slows to a complete stop, disengaging from his tsurak and openly swimming the rest of the way to the heavily tattooed tulkun male. Kayla disengages from her ilu and watches it swim away before swimming in the same direction as the olo'eyktan, keeping a small bit of distance while he approaches the tulkun, greeting it like an old friend with a wide smile before gesturing Kayla to come closer.

When Kayla swims close enough to float near the large eye of the creature, Tonowari motions to the bull and makes rapid hand movements, "This Makayla te Suli tsmuke te Toruk Makto. She is of the Forest People and has come to learn our ways."

"Greetings, Makayla te Suli." The tulkun sings, and Kayla is delighted that she can understand him.

She quickly signs back, just as she had practiced, "I See you, great and mighty tulkun."

"Have you learned much since your arrival?"

"Yes, many things. I have excellent teachers in the olo'eyktan and the tsahik."

"Indeed. You are in good hands with my Brother and his mate. Ro'a speaks highly of her."

Curious, Kayla turns to the olo'eyktan in question, hands slowed by the water as she asks through the Metkayina sign language, "Is Ro'a Ronal's Spirit Sister?"

Tonowari nods while further explaining with his hands, "Yes, and I believe Ro'a has just given birth to her first calf."

"Indeed." The tulkun calls softly, the beautiful sound muffled in Kayla's ears like a song trying to pierce through cotton, "We are very proud and happy for our sister. What of Ronal's child?"

Tonowari beams, "Growing fast. Halfway there."

Kayla faintly smiles as her lungs begin to faintly burn, then quickly makes the appropriate hand motions to signal, "Forgive me. I need air."

She tilts her head upward and kicks her arms and legs to plunge up to the surface. Kayla immediately gasps for air the moment her head broke through the ocean waves, taking deep and calm breaths while looking around at all the joyous reunions going on around her. Laughter and cheers are still clinging to the approaching afternoon air, not a single Metkayina worried about the day's chores as they are too busy reacquainting themselves with their Spirit Brothers and Sisters. Kayla fondly watched these interactions, her heart warm and yet... sad as she watched the Na'vi swim around her without a care in the world. It's not as though she expected anyone to notice her, but it was a brief realization that today she was invisible and an outcast compared to these beautiful tulkun creatures. It was just another reminder that she didn't belong here and she had no Spirit Sister of her own, feeling out of place among an entire lagoon full of tulkun, Na'vi, tsurak, ilu, and other aquatic creatures.

Once she caught her breath, Kayla inhaled deeply and stuck her face back into the water to check out the activity going on beneath her treading feet. Looking around, she managed to catch a glimpse of a familiar Na'vi, a woman, adamantly communicating with her hands toward another tulkun, a female and her calf. Kayla recognized Ronal's ornaments that expressed her importance among the other Metkayina, along with her rounded belly. Without those traits, however, Kayla wouldn't have recognized her because the tsahik was smiling, broadly, unbothered by anything going on around her as she spoke to what had to be her Spirit Sister, Ro'a.

In all the weeks Kayla had been living here, she had never seen Ronal smile, let alone smile like that.

A/N: Please remember that I can't reply to any comments below every chapter because I'm using a secondary account. So if you have questions about the series you would like answers to, please put it in the ask box, thank you!

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Just a brief notice that updates are gonna be spotty from here on out as summer is coming to a close and I'll be working two jobs next month (Sept). Keep the love and support coming and I hope to update for y'all soon!

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