#If this is familiar it's because I posted it once then second guessed myself and deleted it

[hallucinatinghalos]

Probably an obvious observation but...the different lengths of Lestat's hair has been annoying me. It's the why of it. It seems too intentional in a show that pays such close attention to detail. But why change it? Then it clicked that the bob is in the season three teaser and the reunion. Two times we've been told we've seen the "real" Lestat he has the same hair as Louis remembers in New Orleans. The longer hair is only during Armand's recollections, the trial, and the tower. All times Armand would have reason to tamper with how Louis' memories play out. Making me wonder if the longer hair is simply meant to be a signal that we're watching a manipulated memory. Which changes nothing that we don't already suspect but it makes it interesting that he has short hair in the S2 fight scene revisit and long hair in the S2 Claudia turning revisit.

the annoying piece that doesn't fit, dreamstat:

[ayyy-pee]

Can I request vampire Nanami surprising reader on a date but she broke up with him because she’s moving overseas to study animals

𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝔹𝕀𝕋𝔼𝕊

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Stalker Vampire Ex-Boyfriend!Nanami Kento x Female Reader

WC: 5.8k

Summary: Did you think he would know how to find you? He's tasted your life essence, been engulfed in your delicious scent, drunk off the taste of you. You could leave if you wanted, he couldn't stop you. But he would find you, he would be watching.

Story Warning: Stalking, Jealousy, Obsession, Biting (duh), Suggestive Things I guess idk lmfao, Blood, Drinking Blood, Spit, Maybe a bit of fingering and who tf knows what else, Kissing with blood, Nanami spit lover?, Nanami Intoxicated on you and your bodily fluids, Exes to Something???, Fingering for sure actually, Kissing with Blood, Profanity bc it's ME, Nanami downbad like SO downbad for reader, he's such a little weirdo

Art by: 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗸𝘂ᴬᴿᵀ (@chitrartum) on X

Divider Credit: @jelliedink

A/N: FINALLLLLYYYYYY @lovebittenbyevans it's FINALLY up LOL. Listen, I know I said I would post it yesterday but if yall believed me, that's your fault! I'm a liar! Yall know! LMAO. Anyway, I hope I did this one justice. I haven't written Nanami in so damn long I found myself kinda second guessing myself a lot here, but I'm happy with the final product so I won't complain LOL. Anyway ENJOY!!!

‘There’s something familiar about this scene,’ Nanami thinks as he leans casually against the wall of whatever random building this is. 

There’s something familiar about you. You, and your laugh that causes this strange tingling sensation he hasn’t felt in who knows how long. You, and the way your hand grips onto an arm when you find something particularly amusing. You, and the way you lean a little closer when you’re happy.

‘And you’re so beautiful when you’re happy like this,’ he thinks. Happy, like you clearly weren't with him.

Nanami's eyes narrow, vision honing in on you and the way you laugh and hold onto an arm and lean a little closer because you’re content and enjoying yourself. If only you were laughing with him, gripping onto him, leaning a little closer to him like you used to.

Perhaps then, he wouldn’t be standing across the street with his gaze locked onto your form while you dine out with another gentleman who most certainly isn’t Nanami Kento.

Everything feels so familiar here, like he’s lived this scene before, because he has. But foreign as well, because he’s an outsider now, no longer a part of your world. Not by his choice. Nanami would never choose to be watching the life he once had played out before him. It feels like some sort of sick joke, like he’s being mocked as he’s watching as you do all the things you used to do with him before you’d up and left one morning, knowing it’d be impossible for him to follow you for quite some time. It gave you one hell of a head start, and it took Nanami awhile to find you again. 

But oh, he did find you. And here you are, sitting with another man in the very late hours of the night, at some hole in the wall food stand across the street of a busy intersection. You can’t see Nanami, not from this distance he’s put between you two. But he can absolutely see you, clear as day. Every movement you make, every twitch of muscle, he sees it. 

He can hear you, too– hear your laugh, your heartbeat, your breath, the rush of your blood flowing through your veins. He hears it. Everything.

Nanami watches, his eyes hardening when the man beside you slides his plate over and you take a bite of his meal. That used to be him with you at whatever shit hole you’d chosen for your date.

Nanami had always appreciated that about you. Sure, you enjoyed the occasional fancy night out at Nanami’s insistence – getting dolled up and dining at a Michelin star restaurant. But you much preferred the lowkey vibes of grabbing a bite to eat at a smaller establishment or local street vendor. Even if you knew that wasn’t Nanami’s scene.

“It just brings less attention to you,” you’d reason.

And Nanami isn’t an idiot. He could read between the lines. What you meant was it brings less attention to the fact that he never orders anything to eat, not even a bread roll. The waitresses would give him strange looks, glancing at your table occasionally as he simply watched you consume your meal while the most he could stomach was a glass of water at best.

It really can’t be helped. Human food makes Nanami viscerally ill, after all. If anything, you may have been more concerned that Nanami was eyeing the staff like they were on the menu.

He’d be lying if he said the sight of you sharing another man didn’t upset him. Not only did you give another man the place beside you that was once his own, you’ve welcomed him into your routine. Welcomed him to the smiles that were once meant for only his eyes. Welcomed him to the laughs that Nanami can hear even above the noise of this late night traffic across the road.

Simply put, you seem to have replaced him. You’ve moved on, tossed him aside for another. And it’s more than Nanami can say for himself.

It’s been months since you ended your relationship, and he just can’t seem to let you go. He knows he should. He knows that he shouldn’t be watching you the way he does. He can’t help it. Besides, it’s not as if you know what he’s doing. He usually keeps his observing to a healthy distance, only to ensure you’ve made it home safely. That you’re tucked into your bed and definitely not out on dates with new men.

Not too far, but not too close either. It’s become a habit for him. He works from home until the late morning, then he sleeps, because what else is he to do? He wakes up once the stars are visible in the sky, then heads straight to your home. And on days he’s not able to get to you because he’s busy…having dinner (sometimes it’s for business reasons!)…he just hopes you’re doing what you usually do on a lazy night; sitting in your pajamas and curled under the soft blankets he’d purchased for you early on in your relationship.

He likes to think you’d kept something that reminded you of him. Do you think of him? Because he thinks of you. Always. If his standing here staring at the back of your head like a madman isn’t any indication. He keeps all your little trinkets, too. Anything you’d left behind, he has. 

He’s lived a long life, human emotion having long been cast aside, and your presence awoke something in him. At the time, he couldn’t quite place this feeling and didn't bother digging any deeper for answers. But it’s your absence that provides the knowledge he never sought out. It reminds him that he was once human. That he was once capable of feeling more than insatiable hunger, the need to feed off another.

He’s capable of desire, of love. Nanami doesn’t think he’ll ever feel the way he does about you for anyone else.

Unfortunately for him, that doesn’t seem to be the case for you, as you appear to have finally started seeing someone new. But unfortunately, you’ve made the grave mistake of opting for what appears to be a date that falls within Nanami’s most active hours.

He’s used to the shadows, as it feels most like himself to hide under the cover of darkness. It’s how he was able to find you, able to sense that you’re even breathing and content sighs when you slept were noticeably absent when he’d found himself doing his nightly “check in” on you.

So he does what any concerned ex-boyfriend would do. He follows the sound of your heartbeat. All the way here, where you’re having far too much fun for his liking.

Brown eyes stare as you and your date finally wrap up dinner. Your date helps you from your stool, and you idly chat before he wraps you in a tight hug and Nanami feels his blood boil. Well, if he had a beating heart, he imagines his blood would be boiling. 

How dare this man put his hands on you so affectionately? And how dare you receive it so happily? Did all your time together – the kisses, the moans, the love you shared – mean nothing to you?

Fuck this. He’s going over there. 

But the moment your date leaves you and you turn to head the opposite direction, Nanami is torn. Should he follow you? Or should he follow your date? On the one hand, he wants to see what you’re up to, if you’re going home and if not, who and where are you going to? On the other, he’d love to sink his teeth into your date's jugular and rip his larynx out. So many tempting choices…but he opts for the former.

He’s on your tail quickly. He’s determined to speak to you, has to see you and confirm that you’re done with him for good. His body moves fast, hurrying through the crowd to try and catch up to you before you can slip through his grasp again. He won’t accept this. He’s given you ample time to come back. He won’t wait a moment longer.

When the crowd thickens in the busier part of the city, it becomes harder for Nanami to see you. The sounds of different heartbeats blend with your own and your scent becomes more difficult to track when you mix in the shitty perfumes and cheap colognes. Before long, he's lost you. 

His eyes dart around, quickly and thoroughly scanning every face and body in the crowd. But none of them are you. He's certain of that. Deep breaths, Nanami takes several of them focusing on the familiar rhythmic beat of your heart. The pedestrians move around him as he stands still, eyes closed as he focuses. They mutter their curse words or pardon themselves, but he can’t be bothered to listen to anything but you. 

At least a minute passes before he hears it. It's faint at first, but it's there. The light thumping of your heart. He follows it, all the way into a dark alley. And then the panic sets in. 

Why would you be here of all places?

Why is your heartbeat so quiet?

Are you in trouble?

“What the hell are you doing, Kento?” Your harsh voice has Nanami spinning on his heel, the tone unfamiliar to him. 

There you are, in all your glory. Beautiful as he remembers, though it’s not as if he hasn’t seen you recently. He just hasn’t seen you this close in awhile. The neon signs of the city cast a cute glow along your skin and Nanami has to resist smiling. Because you're also so very pissed, arms folded across your chest and a deep frown sitting on your lips. And yet, you still manage to mesmerize him.

“I was just out–” he begins coolly, but you cut him off.

“Out…Out what exactly?” You ask. “Out…following me?”

He should lie. 

He should tell you that he would absolutely never do something as outlandish as following your scent like some cartoon hound dog floating through the air as they chase the smell of food. But that may be hard to believe seeing as that’s how you two started out in the first place – with Nanami searching for his next meal (you) and you somehow charming him into taking you out to dinner instead. What a twist.

Weeks later, he would reveal himself to you as the blood hungry creature of the night he is. And you’d accept him for exactly who he was.

And still, he should lie. 

So that at least you feel a little better. Maybe you’ll think this is just some coincidence that he’s run into you in this dank alleyway in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t bother. You know him. And well, at that. 

So he tells the truth. All of it. 

Your laugh is dry, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to keep your composure. No one is around, save for the people passing by on the sidewalk, not sparing a single glance into the shadows where you hide with your ex-boyfriend. Still, you don’t want to draw any attention to the two of you. Less for either of your sake, and more for the poor person who deigns to interrupt.

“So you’ve been following me…”

Nanami wouldn’t exactly put it that way, but…

“Yes.” 

Okay, maybe he would.

He never was one to mince words.

“How long?”

He tilts his head in question.

“How long…” you pause briefly, seemingly gathering your thoughts. “Have you been watching me? Following me? Whatever the hell it is you’re doing?”

Nanami thinks about this, though he knows the answer. It’s been exactly four months and six days, about eighteen and a half weeks, one hundred and twenty nine days total since you left and he picked up this…obsession with you. But who’s keeping track?

“Since you left,” he answers with the truth once again. Even in this darkness, he can see your eyes widen in shock. He doesn’t want to scare you. He wants you to see how much he wants you, needs you even.

“Because you left me without a single word, ___” he tries to explain. “Won’t answer my calls, won’t reply to my text messages, won’t see me –”

Nanami steps closer to you, and you step back, and it causes this strange stinging sensation in his chest that sort of…hurts? Makes him want to beg you not to move any further, because he’s not sure he can withstand it now that he’s within reach of you again.

“Well apparently, you see me all the time!” You grit out, voice rising an octave before you catch yourself.

“I’m only making sure you’re safe,” he tries to reason, but you shake your head.

“No…” You hold up a finger between you both, keeping Nanami at a distance. And that sting settles in again. “No, you’re stalking me, Kento.”

“Yes, but you’re dating. I saw you.”

“And? I’m allowed to go out with people, Kento!”

It’s been so long since Nanami has heard you say his name. And you’ve said it three times in such a short span. It’s doing something to him that he can’t quite put into words.

“And how do you know they’re a good person? How do you know they won’t hurt you? I’m simply looking out for you.”

You rub aggressively at your temples. “Kento…” you sigh. “You…are…a…fucking…vampire.”

Nanami rolls his eyes.

“And a shitty one at that. But I dated you, and I was just fine,” You’re sure to add. “For a vampire, you’re really not as stealthy as you think you are, by the way.”

You’re right. Perhaps he’s been sloppy, following you the moment nightfall comes, tracking your whereabouts. He thought you hadn’t noticed, but has he really made it so obvious?

There’s a short bout of silence between you, you glaring hard at him while he tries to think of a way to make you see reason. But you look away, just as you ask, “Are you hunting me now?”

Your sudden question surprises Nanami, his brows rising when he hears the fear seep into your quiet voice.

He steps forward again, and this time he breathes a sigh of relief when you don’t move. “No, of course not.” His hands cup your face, tilting your head upward so you can see the honesty in his eyes. You let him hold you as he speaks. “I would never hunt you…” Your eyes narrow, and Nanami quickly adds, “...again.” 

He sees the way your lips purse together, like you’re trying not to find humor in that. “If anything, I was hunting your date…” he mutters, quickly tacking on “kidding,” when you narrow your eyes again.

But still, he makes a mental note to find that man later.

“The first time,” Nanami says honestly, “I hunted you with the intention to kill. Clearly, things didn’t work out that way.”

You sigh, your features softening as Nanami pours his heart out to you, the way he wishes you would’ve let him before you left. “No…they didn’t.”

He remembers the first time he’d caught your scent, so alluring and delicious, the first time he’d heard your heartbeat, and he’d let the sound lull him to sleep, the first time he’d pressed his tongue to your pulsepoint, the thrumming beneath making his nostrils flare. And then, the first time you’d let him taste your life essence…

“You changed me, ___,” he whispers. “I’m a monster, it’s true. I kill, I manipulate others to get what I want, I hurt others. But I’ve never done any of these things to you.”

Your hands find his wrists, holding tight while he finally blurts out everything he’s been keeping buried all these months.

“You leaving me…it left a hole in my life I didn’t know you filled at the time. I need you. I love you,” he says. “It’s why I watch you, why I follow you. I’m sure I sound a little insane…”

“An understatement,” you murmur. But there’s a tiny smirk playing at your lips. You’re teasing him.

“I have not felt this much emotion towards another since…” He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. “I don’t even know when. But I know for certain, I feel love when I think about you. I thought you felt the same…” He breathes hard, like it was such a strenuous task to get all of that off his chest. Eyes boring into yours, he mutters quietly, rather pathetically, he thinks, “...what changed for you? Why don’t you want me anymore?”

Any other vampire would be mocking Nanami to all hell, dragging his name through the mud at how desperate he is for you, a human. He loves you. There is no doubt there. Why else would he spend any and all of his free hours thinking of you, dreaming of you, seeing you anytime he closes his eyes? You consume him, and the irony is not lost upon him. 

It’s been so long since Nanami stepped outside in the daylight. So long since he’s felt the sun on his skin. But your warmth, your presence…you are his sun. He orbits around you. 

It can’t be helped. He knows what he wants, knows what he’d do to have you back. He just needs to know that you want him, too.

Your soft breaths against his face has his mind reeling. Your scent is driving him crazy. He doesn’t even know when you two had gotten so close.

“It didn’t change…” You confess, and if Nanami didn’t have incredible hearing, he would have missed it. Your feelings for him haven’t changed. “I’m leaving Tokyo, Kento…”

Nanami thinks he misheard you.

“I’m sorry?”

You repeat it, a little louder this time, albeit shakily. “I’m leaving. Going abroad for school.” You smile softly, and Nanami finds his thumbs gently caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I got into a program to study wildlife and…I’m going to go.”

Now Nanami wishes he had misheard you.

“You…left me…to go and study animals?” He’s not understanding. You can’t do that here?

“No. I left because I need this change, Kento.”

“Why?” The question comes out more strained, more desperate than he intended. “Why do you need to leave me to do this? Why do you need to see other people to do this?”

You can’t look at him now, eyes downcast. “I’m still young, Ken. I have to figure out my life.”

“And you can’t do that with me?”

This is all too much. Why the hell does studying animals mean you have to leave him? That you see other people romantically? That you give yourself to another? Perhaps he should just kill you. It feels like a better solution than letting you leave him for good.

“It’s only for a few years,” you reassure him. “I just…it was easier for me to cut and run. You can’t go with me. The trip is long and…the sun…you just–”

He gets it now. A lengthy flight abroad is impossible for someone like him. Of course you’d want a real life, a mortal life without him. He would be selfish to keep you from that. And he is selfish. He wants you, deserves you. After years of living in the shadows, he wants so badly to step into the light with you.

But he knows that he can’t. He knows he can only give you what you truly deserve – freedom.

“You’ll be great,” Nanami says, trying to control the way his voice threatens to break. “And when you’re done…if you still want me, come back to me, okay?”

You nod, tears pooling at your waterline as you make your silent promise clear.

There are no more words to be said. It’s the closure he needed, though not the results he wanted. He has to let you go. It’s not fair. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to grab you and take you back to his home and keep you locked up so that you can never leave him. Maybe turn you so that you can spend an eternity together. But it’s just not fair.

He feels your hands press against his chest, trembling as you stare up at him. “One more time before I go?”

It’s an offer he can’t, and won’t refuse.

Nanami kisses you, hard and long, hungrily. He slips his tongue into the cavern of your mouth, humming when your tongue tangles with his, and he’s already losing himself in you. In your touch, the little sounds you make, your scent, your taste.

God, how he missed you. How he will keep missing you when you’re gone and even until the day you return.

Your lips slot against his, messy and demanding, hands balling his shirt in your fists as you pull him closer. You step back, dragging Nanami with you, each step moving you further and further until your back hits the wall and Nanami’s towering over you. And he’s losing himself, humming when you sigh into his mouth, hands finding your waist and squeezing out of fear you’ll vanish into thin air if he lets you go, his head tilting just slightly so that he can take up more of your space, more of your air. He’s so lost in you that he barely feels the change, hardly makes out the little yelp you let out, your hands pushing him away as you roughly break free of the kiss. 

Eyes wide, your fingertips graze your bottom lip where a cut now resides, thick crimson blood dripping into your hand. “Your fangs…” you’re panting harshly. “They’re out.”

Nanami’s fingers are on his mouth, a single digit running through his lips, along his teeth where he feels the long, sharp canines fully protruding. He’s nicked you. He lost himself so much so he sliced your lip with his fang.

‘This is fucking embarrassing,’ he thinks. The urge to vanish into the shadows and forget about this encounter is strong.

This. This is the effect you have on Nanami. Any and all control he has is out the window. His fangs appearing on their own? It’s the equivalent of suddenly getting an erection while out in public. This has never happened to him before. Not with any of his past lovers. Not even when he’d first turned. And yet, you pull this reaction from him so easily. 

Nanami is overtly aware of humans and their mortality, of course. So he doesn’t particularly go out of his way to care for them. But you…he cares for you. You have him skulking around like a rat in the dark, waiting for you to look his way. You have him losing control of his fangs like he’s some goddamn adolescent vampire just from the taste of your saliva.

It’s definitely not the liquid he’d prefer, but he loves it all the same. Intoxicatingly saccharine, so sweet it almost hurts.

“I’m so sorry,” Nanami whispers, taking your hand from your lips. “I lost control.” He lifts your hand to his face, eyes boring into yours as he inhales the enticing scent of your blood. One long breath, deep, savoring the smell. “That seems to happen a lot when it comes to you.” His tongue darts out, his gaze locked on the way your breath hitches, how your heart beats loud like a drum as he slowly drags the warm and wet muscle along your skin.

‘Delicious,’ his mind sings. Nanami’s body reacts as it always does when he even catches the scent of your blood. He leans forward until he’s only an inch away before he drags his tongue along the swelling cut on your lip, humming gruffly at the taste. He’d missed you, and your blood. It’s unlike any others. 

You watch him through hooded eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. The sounds of the bustling city just down this alleyway drown out as the two of you simply stare at each other, neither daring to look away. You may not be able to see as well as Nanami can in this darkness, but he sees you, and he’s sure he wears the exact same expression as well – love, desire, need. He sees the way you hold all of it in your eyes. You do care for him, you do love him the same way he loves you. You want him the way he wants you. He sees it so clearly.

He kisses your lips tenderly, careful not to hurt you again. Slow, steady, a bit more controlled than before. He’s trying to reign it in. But it’s you who deepens the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling Nanami closer as you kiss him harder. Your tongue finds its way into his mouth, and Nanami groans, the metallic blend of your blood and saliva sweet on his tongue.

“Fuck,” he breathes.He lips are on yours, rougher this time, the cut on your lip opening again and bleeding, mixing into both of your mouths. “Did you always taste this good?” 

You giggle in response, a sound he missed dearly. 

“I’m serious,” Nanami pants. “I feel like I can’t think straight just from kissing you.” He grinds his hips into yours, evidence of his need rubbing against your center. “Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted this again? How badly I’ve wanted to see you, to hold you, to touch you, to t–?”

He catches himself, not wanting to beat a dead horse.

“Taste me?” You whisper, fill in the gap, humor in your tone. 

Well, it does come with the territory, he supposes.

“That, too.”

Your fingers play with the short blonde locks sitting at the nape of Nanami’s neck, staring up at him and it reminds him of the domesticity you used to have. Reminds him of those little moments in between the busyness of your lives. “I have some idea,” you sigh as Nanami dips his head down to kiss along your jawline, down your neck. “You did stalk me for months, after all.”

He hums against your skin, acknowledging the fact. His lips drag along as he finds the spot that calls to him, and when he presses a light peck to the place where he can see your pulse fluttering, you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair. This was always the part you sort of dreaded, he recalls. And it was also the part you both were most excited for.

“Can I?” Nanami pleads, rubbing his nose along your pulsepoint and inhaling deeply. Your scent has changed, the anticipation and little bit of fear in your blood evident to him. So he presses another kiss, sweet and soothing to your neck again in hopes to calm you. He hopes the answer is a resounding yes, that you’ll let him do this one last time before you leave him for who knows how long.

He’s certain he’ll die right in this spot if you say no.

But your hand glides along his arm, until your fingers wrap around his. You guide his hand to the waistband of your pants, his fingers just barely beneath the fabric, and Nanami groans eagerly.

“Have me,” you whisper, whimpering quietly when Nanami runs his tongue along that spot. “I want you to.”

Nanami’s nostrils flare, the rapid rhythm of your pulse pounding beneath his tongue sending him into overdrive. If he’s being honest, this is his favorite part. Perhaps he gets off on the small bit of fear you exude just before this. He can’t help it. It’s instinct for him.

His hand slips between your bodies, into your pants as you loop your both arms around his neck. The feeling of your dripping core makes his cock throb within the confine of his own pants. But he can take care of that later. Right now, he only sees (and hears, and smells) you. He inhales deeply once more, kissing along your jaw once more until he reaches your lips. His lips slot against yours, needy and hungry until he has to force himself to break away in case he loses control again. He’s back at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, right where your pulse beats wildly beneath your skin.

“It may hurt,” he warns, but it’s only to make himself feel better, really. You’re aware of the pain, having experienced it many times before. And still, even with the bit of pleasure it gives him, Nanami feels a little guilty about it.

“It’s okay. I can take it,” you assure him softly.

Of course you can, his sweet love. You would let Nanami do this time and time again if he asked, would you? And this is what Nanami remembers. How pliant you become when he’s got you like this. So eager to give him whatever he asks for. 

How will he live without you?

Nanami groans, low and rough against your neck, murmuring about how much he’ll miss you, how he loves you, how you’re so perfect for him and he’d rather die than to have another take your spot in his world. All the romantic words he’s been hoping to say fall from his lips, and he can hear from the way your heart drums against your ribcage that you’re feeling the effects of his words. He means every one of them, he hopes you know. 

His lips brush against your skin, presses one last, sweet kiss to the spot, murmuring, “I love you,” while his fingers run through your slick folds. Your legs tremble as Nanami’s rough fingers rub tight and slow circles on your clit. Your hands have found his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his shirt as you hang on. Every curse and moan from your lips is music to Nanami’s ears, only making him harder, more desperate to hear you make more of those noises.

He keeps his ministrations going, slipping forward until he has a single finger positioned at your entrance. He pushes in gently, just barely enough to garner a reaction, but your mouth still falls open with a soft gasp.

“So tight, so sensitive still,” he speaks, muffled against your neck.

Nanami’s tongue runs along your pulse, mouth opening slightly so that his lips lift and pull back. His canines push forward from his gums, exposing the long set of sharp fangs that have been screaming to be let loose. The relief he feels at finally being able to freely expose the long canines has Nanami letting out a strangled groan, murmuring an “I love you” just one more time before he’s slowly sinking his fangs into you at the exact moment he adds a finger to your entrance, pushing in and stretching your walls. His eyes roll to the back of head immediately, the thick and warm liquid filling his mouth, and he consumes everything you’re willing to offer.

It’s no wonder Nanami felt the need to follow you from the moment you’d left him. There is something completely addicting about you, something that doesn’t simply satisfy his hunger and cravings, but so much more. 

Your teeth bite down on your lip, an attempt to not scream at the sharp pain. Your hands squeeze hard, the discomfort running through your entire body. And Nanami squeezes you, too, one hand holding onto your waist for dear life, for something that will tether him to this moment here and now with you. Because he doesn’t want to lose control, doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already is. 

Your eyes are closed tight, mind reeling with the intense pain and ecstasy you’re feeling while Nanami drains you, simultaneously pumping his fingers into you, and you quickly find yourself overcome with pleasure. Your quiet gasps and moans of pain turn to quiet gasps and moans of bliss, and the iron grip you had on Nanami eases.

He drinks from you like he hasn’t fed in days, and it has your head spinning, the quick depletion of your blood making your legs shake. It doesn’t help that Nanami’s fingers are picking up speed, reaching the place that makes you whine and beg for more, the lewd sound of your wetness mixed with both your muffled moans filling the space of this disgusting alley. 

You haven’t fucked anyone since you left him all those months ago, and now you’re remembering why.

There’s not much Nanami needs to do to quickly have you unraveling beneath him. Be it his mouth, his hands, his cock, he knows exactly what to do to make you come undone. You’re not shocked at all when Nanami presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing delicious circles on it, and your walls squeeze down on his thick fingers just as he bites down on your neck a little harder. Then he messily breaks his hold on you with a sharp intake of breath, standing tall and looming over your form so he can have a front row seat to your orgasm crashing over you suddenly.

Your lips fall open, a loud cry threatening to burst from your chest. But Nanami’s lips find yours, silencing you when his tongue immediately enters your mouth so that you can taste yourself on him. You moan, the taste of metallic heavy between you as you ride out your high on Nanami’s thick fingers.

You’re like this for a while, kissing lazily as Nanami pumps into you. When you’ve finally come down from your high, Nanami slips out of you easily, not wasting any time before he’s putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean. You can just make out the dried blood staining around his mouth and his chin, and you wonder if you share a similar look.

It’s strange to taste your own blood, you’ve always thought so, but it’s not bad. Not when it’s Nanami you’re sharing it with. Not when it’s with someone you love.

You gaze up at the man you feel you can’t live without, but know you must in order to truly find yourself, your happiness, and your heart races. How could you have ever thought you’d be able to live a normal life after leaving him? How could you have given up this love you strongly share? Could you truly leave him here alone for the next few years? 

You don’t have the answers, but you know you can’t go back on what you’ve planned for your future. You need this, and he knows it. But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this bit of time you have together. You were stupid to think you could cut and run. You don’t want to be away from him.

“Can we take this back to your place?” You whisper, pulling Nanami down for another kiss, softer this time, teasing almost. You press a palm to his groin where you feel his desire for you, and Nanami grunts at your touch. “I want to spend every second with you before I go.”

[loveandleases]

(So here it is, Cam's birthday post! This takes place when Cam and MC are teens. I struggled to decide when to set it and what scenario to go with but I think this is a good middle.)

Cam flops back on the bed, the phone pressed tightly against his ear as he listens to the familiar ringing. Waiting for the other side to pick up. To hear that familiar voice say his name, something that causes him such joy he was sure it would be deemed unhealthy by others. If he was being honest, he knew that how tight he tries to cling to you isn't the healthiest thing.

What feels like twenty minutes of waiting is more like two, but each second that passes by makes his insides tighten. A part of him always wondered if there would be a time when you would stop answering his calls. Would you tire of him like his family? Would Chris fill your head with so many lies you couldn't bear to even look at him?

Eventually, the phone clicks and his breath catches for the briefest moment until he hears you. "Birthday boy."

"Red," Cam whispers, though he isn't sure why. He's alone in his room at his parents. In a house of a family that treats him more like a stranger. A house he has been stuck coming back to for the past two months thanks to some power trip from his dad. Though he knew he would be escaping it soon, running away from home could practically qualify as a hobby for him.

"Didn't I tell you I would call first." you chided. He knew you meant well, it was a tradition. One would call the other on their birthday, even if the two of you would see each other soon, you still made sure to call. But something about this night had forced him to call you, to hear your voice, to recognize his existence.

"C'mon, you can forgive me this once."

"Aww, do you miss me?" You coo, your tone teasing.

"Course I do. It's been two months Red. That's the longest we've gone without seeing each other since we met. Not to mention, this will be the first time since we were kids that I won't see you on my birthday."

You both grew quiet, neither thinking to fill the void of silence between you, not until a snap of a twig caught Cam's attention. Pulling his whirling thoughts to his open window. Cam sits up, evening out his breathing to better listen. Probably just an animal. "So what did you-"

The sound of rustling near his window causes him to pause, body filled with tension. He's not afraid, why would he possibly be afraid of the idea of someone climbing into his window and possibly slicing his- Alright, take it easy on the horror movies Cam, you're being silly.

A gentle tap on the glass of the window is what eventually pulls him from his thoughts, he slowly makes his way over, each step quieter than the one before until he faces it. Cam leans out, hoping to see what's causing so much noise. Once he does he freezes, what's the old saying, like a deer in the headlights.

"R-"

"Surprise!" You whisper shout, dangerously perched on a tree limb.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Cam reaches for you, hands grasping and pulling you in. You both tumble to the floor your limbs tangled together.

Cam freezes, your faces so close together that you can feel his warm breath ghost your cheeks. "S..sorry. Still, what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't miss your birthday." you grin at him, ignoring the smudges of dirt on your face caused by climbing. It causes Cam to laugh, the first real laugh he's had in months. Not one crafted to soothe his mother's ego when something she says falls flat. A laugh that is not pointed at him when Chris tells a joke and Cam is the butt of it.

He cradles you as if you're his lifeline as if you're the very person that could make being in this cold house worth it because to him you are.

"Hope you don't mind, the only present I bought was myself."

Cam takes a deep breath, wiping away an invisible tear. "I guess it will just have to do." he teases.

With a playful shove, you sit up, pulling your warmth with you. The warmth that Cam tries to grasp with his hand but instead finds the corner of your shirt sleeve. "Promise me something," you whisper, eyes roaming around the room. Compared to that of his siblings the room is bare in comparison. A small bed, a shelf here or there, the walls bare of any coverings.

"Hm?"

"Promise me we'll never miss each other's birthday." at first you think he doesn't hear you. Not with how quiet he gets as he sits up his eyes never leaving you.

Cam sticks his hand out, pinky raised waiting to link with another. "Pinky promise." You suppose this was another tradition, something so simple yet so meaningful to the two of you.

Your fingers curl around one another and Cam winks, pulling your hand up to place a soft kiss. "I missed you." he mumbles.

"Likewise. But more importantly." you turn, hands clasped on the top of your knees clearing your throat as if the next thing you're about to say was of utmost importance. "Cameron Clarke, my best-friend, my ride or die. The Robin to my Batman." "Hey! I'm clearly Bat-" he interjects. "The mint to my chocolate, the peanut butter to my jelly" you take a deep breath, because the next words are going to be embarrassing. "My other half, and my soulmate." His eyes widen, what blush he had hoped wasn't showing before is far too hard to deny now. His pale freckled skin turned rosy, a better look if you had to admit it. Cam Clarke flustered was always a sight to behold because not many could do it. "Happy birthday."

[blueparadis]

LEMONADE + SHIU KONG // f!reader ( she's a sniper), smoking, mention of murder and violence, implicit smut, semi-public ( happens in a car ), little tension between them, rivals to fvck buddies dynamics, he is such a tease here. 1.3 (w.c)

special thanks to @poohbea for beta-reading. without her, i really wouldn't have posted this. i had something in mind and this is entirely different. so i said better luck next time to myself and found the courage to post this. | back to nav. | also tagging @yuujispinkhair

“You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you believe yourself to be.” Kong mutters off-handedly under his breath, reaching for the latch of your belt. His minty tobacco-laced breath paired with that familiar musky cologne threatens to send your nerves into a frenzy. He’s too close for someone who claims to ‘just wanted to undo your seatbelt’. He had no reason to but he did it anyway, probably because you were asking too many questions. He could have easily pressed one of those buttons on the driver’s side door, the one that unlocks all seat belts at once. The car is fancy enough to have those kinds of luxury features anyway, but you can’t help the racing of your heart when his fingers brush your skin. It’s only when he sits back in his own seat do you register his remark. Did he just scold you? The possibility alone has you licking your bottom lip nervously. 

It’s not as though he never has, but given your history with him, he rarely comments on your professionalism. He has been your handler for almost a year now and has yet to actually correct or complain about the way you do your job. He’s proud of your skills, he has to be, otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiring you for every sniper-kill case he gets.

“I heard you were back in town,” he starts, tapping on his cigarette packet before taking one between his lips. “But I couldn't contact you until I got the green light. That, and I’ve been too damn busy with the bounty offers that keep coming up.” He digs into his breast pocket to fish out a lighter, the flame flicking to life as his thumb rolls over the spark wheel. You look at him visibly confused, something he acknowledges with an amused huff. “Were you really so busy that you couldn't read the briefing I sent you?” He is definitely scolding you, but for what exactly? Trying to stay neutral in the face of his crude teasing, you let out a small breath, choosing to keep his gaze despite the nagging need to look away. He’s changed a bit. There’s worry in his eyes, more than usual, eyebrows creased as he continues. “Ah! I can't let you slip up now — ” 

“Why am I here?” You interject with a frown. 

“What?” He has the audacity to look at you surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to call you here again.

“This is the third time this month you’ve had me meet you… and in case you haven’t noticed, I have a bit of a busy schedule.” Kong lets you speak for longer than ten seconds for the first time in a very long time, his bad habit of interrupting taking the backseat for once. When he doesn’t answer you, you click your tongue, irritation evident in the furrow of your brow. “Why am I here, Kong-san—?”

“Shiu.” He corrects. Guess you spoke too soon. “And you still didn't answer my question. Did you or did you not—”

“I did.” You respond sourly. “And it told me a whole lot of nothing. Which is why I'll ask you again. Why am I here, Shiu?” Despite your irritation, the glaring fact of his contributions to your career as a sniper sits heavy on your shoulders as you sit in weighted silence. He knows it too, and never fails to bring it up every time you try to walk away, try to tell him you don’t need his help. He’s pushed you farther than anyone else ever has. Certainly, you owe it to him, but his ego is already big enough without the offer of such a confession, and you would rather put a bullet in your skull than admit that. 

The air inside the car grows thick with smoke as he takes drag after drag of his cigarette, not that you minded, you’re a smoker yourself, but just to spite him you opened the window by your side. “Isn’t it obvious?” Kong soon discards the butt out of his own window, studying you all the while, observing the mix of question and frustration that creases your forehead as your frown deepens. His lips tug up in one corner ever so slightly, too slight for anyone else to spot, but being around him as often as you have, you knew it was coming. “I’ve missed you.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. What a horrible man… he’s toying with you.

“Hilarious,” you mutter, offering him a sarcastic chuckle. He doesn’t waver, doesn’t look away, that small smile growing at your skepticism. The realization has your heart beating in your ears, and suddenly finding it difficult to keep his gaze.

“Want me to prove it to you?” He dips his head slightly, the leather of his seat squeaking in protest as he leans closer.

“No.” Your reply was instantaneous but you do not move, his hand reaching to play with the necklace resting against your collarbone, the very someone he gifted you after your first successful case. “Aren't we supposed to be doing a job here?”

“You tell me. Haven't you read the briefing?” Again with the same question. He is far too calm in this situation, fingers caressing the hammering pulse that lies just below the surface of your skin. “You weren’t lying to me were you—?”

“This is going nowhere.” You huff, finally breaking the intense staring contest he had trapped you in, finding the courage to withdraw from his touch momentarily. 

“It could if…” he guides you back to him, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gaze dipping to your lips. “If you wanted.”

You bite your lip lowering your head to hide your merriment. “Like the last time?” You ask with a knowing smile. If you wanted. Yeah. Sure. As if he didn’t. Because during the ‘last time’ in question, things were entirely different. You two weren’t out for a job. In fact, you were in a situation similar to this one, in his car, engaging in your usual back and forth. It’s unclear exactly what came over you that day, but those sly eyes and that cocky smile had you seeing your handler as less of a mentor and more of the man he was. The conversation devolved into his lips against yours, his hands against your hips as he encouraged you from your seat onto his lap. Thunder rumbled the heavens and rain battered against the windshield, the perfect mask for inevitable heavy breaths and throaty moans. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, his lips, his teeth, the press of his thigh between your legs that had electricity crackling up the base of your spine. His name fogged the windows, each syllable working its way through the tresses of your mind till that was all you could utter, all that truly mattered. He reveled in that, in the way you gave yourself to him almost entirely. How your body grew hot with every caress, every thrust, every kiss. What did you even call this feeling? Neither of you knew, but it was clear that either didn’t want it to stop. By the end of it, his presence spanned your body, inside and out. 

Shiu laughs at your subtle accusation. It has the kind of warmth that reminds you of cozy mornings during winter. There is a pregnant pause after he says. “Yeah.” Bobbing his head in a ‘yes’. You shake your head slowly, an amused breath leaving your nose as your nerves buzz with memories past.

You sigh, assessing him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what exactly he’s hiding beneath that elaborately organized talk of his. But the man is a vault, hiding behind dark eyes that threaten to reel you in again. It has you playing with your tongue, curling it against the insides of your mouth before smacking your lips. “Was there really any job for me to begin with?” You retort. 

Shiu Kong smiles, his carefully crafted demeanor crumbling in the face of the woman he’s slowly beginning to fall for. “There wasn’t.” He says bashfully.

—

@angelshub @public-safety-network @underratedcharactercorner

[weirdkpopgirl]

Better | Jisung Imagine #4

Title: Better

Genre: Angst

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mental struggles

Word Count: 867

Author's Note: I wrote this last week I think, and I apologize for posting something so dark again. I do have some lighter stuff I plan to write in the near future. Something I noticed in writing these type of stories is kind of me just talking to myself through the characters. I don't know, I guess it's kinda selfish and pathetic. But I wrote this from the perspective of someone witnessing their loved one going through a hard time, and I could see Jisung in this specific scenario. Thank you for reading and if it can comfort any of you, then I hope it does ^ ^

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With a sigh, Jisung drowsily let his phone drop to the coffee table, retiring from the mobile game he had been playing. He then rose from the couch and made his way to the kitchen, seeking your presence. Mere seconds later he caught the sight of you gracefully packing away the leftovers from dinner into clear airtight containers. 

Usually, watching you perform these tasks with such ease brought comfort to him. Oftentimes Jisung felt you were more like his mom than his girlfriend. Despite him being older by two years, you consistently made an effort to take care of him. Whether it be through doing his laundry on the weekends, buying him bunggeobang when he was having a bad day, or when you made him home-cooked meals so that he didn’t eat take-out all the time. Your actions were always so nurturing, and your eyes always brimmed with joy as he ate.

However, observing you tonight didn’t bring him the usual sense of domestic tranquility that usually filled the atmosphere. Instead, there was this deep, sadness that gnawed at his stomach and traveled up his throat.

It was the way you momentarily paused what you were doing. Then the slight hesitation that crossed your expression before your hand gripped the edge of your sleeve to vigorously drag the fabric up and down your forearm. Jisung despised how familiar that habit had become to him, one he had witnessed too many times before now. Your actions could only be a sign of the physical manifestation of the pain you carried as a result of the endless thunderstorm in your mind.

Jisung wanted to say something, he always did in these moments. But each time his tongue stilled, because he was weighed down by his own emotions. He knew what it was like to struggle mentally, yet he couldn’t think of the best way to express his concern without sounding like he was judging you.

However, Jisung knew he couldn’t stand around doing nothing. He stayed still for a moment though, watching you return to collecting the containers and turning around to store them in his refrigerator. Once the fridge door was closed again, your brows furrowed in frustration one more as you rubbed your arm again. You seemed more annoyed with the irritation beneath your skin than the fact that you had intentionally hurt yourself. This realization only made Jisung’s heart sink further.

After taking a deep breath, Jisung decided now was the time to act. His footsteps were barely audible against the tiled floor. Walking up from behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist in a gentle back-hug. Your body initially tensed at the unexpected affection. But once you recognized it was just your boyfriend, you instinctively leaned back against him.

A few seconds passed before Jisung cautiously extended his arm out to tug at your sleeve. When you didn’t say anything, he slowly rolled it up, the kitchen light immediately drawing attention to the angry red lines scattered across your pale skin. Just a glimpse made his heart break into a million pieces.

Jisung felt your head lower, diverting your gaze to the dark countertop. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, biting your lip. “That you have to see this horrible, ugly side of me.”

Following your quiet apology, Jisung gently turned you around to face him. His heart broke at the emptiness in your expression, almost as if you were used to this sort of reaction. Even though you were standing in his arms, there was this distance you were trying to maintain with him. More than anything, Jisung wanted to reach out, pull you close and never let go. Never let you go, ever.

“I just want you to get better, (Y/n),” his voice wavered, unable to suppress his emotions any longer. However, Jisung knew it was almost futile to say these words to you. Deep down the both of you knew that you didn’t share the same desire for yourself as he did.

Yet, tears started to form when you managed to meet his gaze. Most likely because you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, he thought. Then, unexpectedly, you were the one embracing him, burying your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry Jisung,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his sweatshirt. “I’m so sorry.”

Those words left your mouth repeatedly between your sobs. It didn’t take long for Jisung to feel his own tears stream down his cheeks, mingling with yours. The two of you stood there, holding each other tighter than you ever had before. Although he knew you weren’t on the same page as him, the silent understanding that you loved each other was the connection.

And as you cried together in the middle of the kitchen at 10:37 p.m., all Jisung could hope for was that showing his support for you more often would do something. He knew that he couldn’t take your pain away entirely, but in these moments all you needed was someone to hold you. He needed to remind you that you weren’t alone.

Maybe, and just maybe, his love would be enough to encourage you to get better.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[chiwrld]

hi everyone!! this is my first post on tumblr and I thought I’d share a vaunt I wrote a couple weeks ago regarding the void to help remind me that I am God and motivate me further to persist despite my 3D circumstances. I hope this helps someone who may be struggling with the I AM state and is constantly over complicating it the way I did!!

“Let’s get this shit straight: the void is not some entity outside of me. It is not something I can enter. It is ME. It is a state of which I am in my purest form. One in which I have no attachment or awareness of my physical reality. My tangible experience is just an add on, an extension to what is truly me at my core: my consciousness. And this “void state” is truly just me letting go and being one with myself without the physical component being present. It truly is that simple. So I am the “void.” I AM.

Also, do you know how many times I consciously manifest without much thought added onto it? Just this morning an affirmed my mom wouldn’t bother me about getting ready (because I was lazy) and she left me alone for a whole hour after she asked!! Later on I affirmed my grandmother was sleeping RIGHT before entering her room and guess what? Fast. Asleep. When I was speaking to my father today what did I decide? That I didn’t feel the usual anxiety I experience when speaking with him, AND?? That feeling in my chest disappeared within seconds.

My point is I AM a master manifestor. I always have been. Since I discovered LOA till now. A master never loses their spark and the minute I became aware of my power and that I am The Creator, I claimed said power as my own (because it is) and I will never go back. I know that every single experience I go through is a result of my internal states and that my tangible experiences are malleable due to being able to shift and occupy different states from the infinite that exist.

So then how can occupying the state of being a void master hard? Well, it isn’t. I mean at least it wasn’t for me. I began writing this for motivation but now that I really thinking about, I’m just beginning to realise how familiar and reachable the I AM state feels to me BECAUSE IT IS!! I have become freed from the shackles of putting the void on a pedestal, because it literally makes ZERO SENSE to idolise something as if it is a separate entity from yourself. It is not just a part of me, it IS me and I’ve finally accepted and digested such.

With that being said, this state is apart of me. Therefore, in order to become unaware of my physical surroundings I shall state and decide that I am no longer aware of such. Why? Because life is THAT easy when you have the knowledge of LOA on your side, it’s a loophole! From there I will make sure I am relaxed for a smoother experience. Because my 3D reality will inevitably conform to the state I have occupied in my imagination, I will keep in mind that it truly does not matter if I breathe. What I mean is, I guess I have this limiting belief that if I focus on my breathing as an attempt to relax and furthermore “enter” the void, I will still be aware of my physical body as a result. However, regardless of me focusing on my breathing or not, affirming to become unaware of my body will materialise into my tangible experience and will occur as a result of deciding and persisting.

Once I feel as though my grip on my physical reality is disappearing, I will affirm for the void. I think one of my other issues is that I affirm from a stage of lack when it comes to this stage. What I mean is, when I affirm that I am in the void I push myself to continue looping the affirmations in order to “enter” the void instead of a reminder that I HAVE entered it already, instead of accepting my statement as fact and feeling it real (AKA truly knowing that it is done)

I shall affirm until I’m satisfied. Until my subconscious has experienced pure conviction. Until I feel at content and at peace with what I’ve stated. Because forcing myself to continue would be operating from a state of lack and I never lack. It’s impossible in my reality. Therefore, it is impossible for me to think from such a place as well. Remember: fulfilling myself in imagination is the goal here. From there I will either allow myself to sleep in that state and wake up without 0 physical awareness or continue to relish in the feeling of achievement, contentment and utter peace with finally experiencing the void state before the 3D decides to catch up with me and has me experience it in my outer world.”

“Key points

Identifying my objective: experiencing the void

Deciding that I am the state of entering the void with ease

Relaxing my body + mind

Affirming that I no longer have any physical awareness + I AM

Fulfilling myself in imagination

DONE.”

Hope this helps anyone who may be overcomplicating pure consciousness or just needed a refresher as to what it truly is in essence + be reminded of their own limitless power. Vaunting is a great “method” too so I definitely recommend doing such instead of doomscrolling (you know yourselves…)

yours truly,

chi.

[obbystars]

Salvation

Synopsis: If you were given the chance to live again, to right your wrongs, to deal with unfinished business, would you?

Notes: Self-insert/OC-insert fic / Sebastian Solace x Oberon / self-shipping is fun / Oberon sona lore! / despite the self-shipping, there is no romance lol / this technically takes place like a few hours after the lockdown started, so about less than 2 days before the game / cursing / a lot of dialogue…

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(WELL.. I DID IT I GUESS. If you’ve seen my previous post talking about me making this, well. Yeah. Don’t worry this won’t be often, I just feel overwhelmed right now with what’s been going on, won’t get into it, this is my treat for myself.)

Sebastian gasps as air suddenly fills his lungs once again. He swear he got shot just moments ago, but he managed to get away and… He felt cold, and everything felt like it was closing in around him. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Everything had gone dark.

Now where was he? It looked like a living room. Whose house was this, and why did it look so oddly familiar?

The door suddenly opens and a strange looking man in a black mask walks in, “Ah, I knew another one was coming,”

Sebastian gasped and reached for his gun, only to find it wasn’t there.

“What are you trying to grab for? A triple-barrel, sawed off shotgun?” He chuckled, “Unfortunately, such things aren’t allowed in here. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back when we’re done,”

He glared back at the man, and took in his peculiar appearance. There were small wings on the sides of his head as well as another pair folded beside his hips. The halo would’ve convinced him an angel had decided to meet with him, but with the black horns almost curving into the halo, he must be more than just any angel.

The man turns away from him and began to open a few drawers with what seems to be telekinesis. Sebastian watches him for a second before letting out a growl.

“Hey! Who the hell are you? And where are we?” He questioned.

“I’ll answer all of your questions in just a second…” He was opening a lot of drawers and soon started to physically open them himself, “M-My apologies… I tend to lose my files whenever I have to change the look of this realm,”

“F-Files?”

He then pulls out a file, “Ah, here we go. Sebastian Solace, right? Born in 1993, you have a big sister and a little brother, arrested for nine murders and-”

Sebastian cuts him off, “Oh yes, read my life story, will you?”

The man takes a seat across from him, “You’re not the only fish I’ve come across. If I am to do my job correctly, I need to make sure I have the right one,”

“Are you going to answer my questions now?”

“Ah, yes. Pardon me. I am called Oberon Sol. Where we are, well…” he paused as if trying to think of an explanation.

By how he’s talking, one might assume he’s been doing this for a while but doesn’t even have an explanation for where this place is. Sebastian gave him an irritated look as a response.

“This place resides between the thin line of life and death. As for the room itself, I make sure to conjure up an environment you’d feel rather safe in,” he looks up and around for a moment before looking back at him, “Is this your home? I tried filling in some spots to make it more lively,”

Sebastian hesitantly looked around. It was familiar, but he couldn’t really place it. It’s been so long, he doesn’t really remember what his house looked like anymore. He can’t tell which parts were actually part of his memory and which was substituted. It looked familiar, but different.

“A place I feel safe in, huh?”

Oberon nods, going back to read his file, “More often than not, I do end up creating someone’s room. Just the singular room of the house, but yours? The reason why I was late was because the entire house was created. It shocked me, honestly,”

That must be why the curtains are covering the windows. It’s probably to make sure unfortunate souls don’t see something they shouldn’t just beyond this place.

“Huh, so the sinners are the cause of this…” he suddenly mutters.

That draws Sebastian’s attention, “Sinners? Wait, do you mean Urbanshade?”

“The very same. I’ve had my eyes on them for quite some time. I’ve had many of their prisoners end up here too,” Oberon hummed and leaned back in his seat, “So the sinners did find out you weren’t guilty of the murders you were accused of. Looks like they couldn’t do much since you were “legally declared dead” whatever that means… Honestly, I don’t get why you humans make up this stuff…”

Sebastian looks up at him in shock, “Wh..what did you just say?”

Two small stars appear in Oberon’s right eye, acting as pupils. He was looking at him, “The ones you call “Urbanshade” had found out you were not guilty of the nine murders you were accused for in late 2015, and that you were falsely charged with the “death penalty” as some of you humans like to call it,”

“They knew…?” He slams his hands on the desk, “They knew and they never told me?! I had to die and meet up with an angel to figure this shit out?!”

“I will ignore the angel comment,” he closes his file before twirling his hand for a second, causing a document to appear in front of Sebastian.

It had Urbanshade’s logo on it. He then leans forward, crossing one leg over the other. When Sebastian doesn’t seem to react other than staring at it, he reaches over and taps the document.

“Maybe giving this a quick read will clear a few things up for you,”

Sebastian glances to him before hesitantly opening the document. The moment he saw a picture of himself in the first page, he closed it immediately.

“What kind of sick game are you playing?” He snarled.

Oberon shook his head, “There is no game, Mr. Solace. I am simply doing my job,”

“What is your job?!” He yells this time, glaring at him.

“I believe you humans refer to those like me as “grim reapers,” but your interpretation of what they look like is…a little humorous, actually. But I do not retrieve souls, and I am not here to guide you to the afterlife,” he explains.

“Then what are you?”

“Well, to be fair, I suppose I was created as an angel, but I don’t quite like associating myself with them. How about this? In short, I am your salvation,” he leans back, his starry pupils not taking his eyes off of him, “I can bring you back to the land of living so you can have that second chance to get what you want. That is your only chance I will be giving you,”

“That sounds too good to be true. What is it that you want?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, “Though, I suppose I could ask you to deliver punishment, but you have done that to a few anyway. I saw some passing by,”

“What? You can’t do it yourself?”

“To take human life goes against everything I stand for,”

He grits his teeth. There was no way he wasn’t asking for anything else just to bring him back to life.

“And…” he continues, looking down at his document, “I hate knowing someone was wronged and was sentenced to death for it,”

“Is that why I’m here? Why you’re here?”

“I never understood why you humans always hurt each other while also claiming to follow a set of rules. You destroy and bring down others when you should’ve loved them unconditionally. You condemn the innocent and let the guilty run free. You endlessly slaughter because of different beliefs no matter what that might be. So I want to help those much like you. Those caught in the crossfire, left behind, manipulated, abused…” He paused, then sighed, “I meet with them, and should they wish to go back to handle unfinished business, then they will. If they don’t, I let them go to wherever the path they choose takes them,”

A second chance, and all he had to do was say yes? No exchange or sacrifice needed. No Ferryman token required. It was like he had plucked him up from the trenches and was set into his care. An “angel” who willingly revived people if they so wish.

“So, my question to you is… Would you like to return?”

Urbanshade was going to pay for what they did, “Yes,”

“Very well,” he points to the house’s exit, “There’s the door. You may leave when you’re ready,”

Sebastian turns to the door. It really was just like that. He can just leave right now, but seeing as someone related to angels is sitting right in front of him…

“If this place exists between life and death, then you imply that there’s an afterlife. So what? A Heaven and Hell?”

Oberon just tilted his head. His tone implies he is smiling under the mask, “Do you believe in the existence of those places?”

Sebastian gives him a questioned look. He himself wasn’t that religious, at least not anymore after everything, “Where will they end up in?”

“Where do you think sinners end up in?”

He suspected as much. He just sighed and leaves him without another word. Just as he opened the door, he wakes up again in a dark hallway. It’s cold. He gets up and looks around. The familiar structure and the water seeping through the cracks in the window. The sound of gunfire through the walls. The blood trail that stopped just beneath him.

Hadal Blacksite.

In case you’ve read this far and want a visual of my avatar, here you go! Fancy little guy.

I took inspiration from Maruki Takuto from Persona 5 Royal and Sunday from Honkai Star Rail. I love both of them sm…

[kanmom51]

JM live 15 June 2023 20:46 or 8:46pm KST

cr./to the creators of the media used in this post.

*Disclaimer: I hate Tumblr and it's stupid ass image limit. My personal feeling about this post is that it's lacking, but I guess c'est la vie, did the best under the circumstances (at least that's what I'll keep telling myself).

Guess what?

We already saw the pattern with JK, but is it possible that JM is joining in on the it? I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

I won't be talking about every single thing that came up in JM's 1 hr. and 20 min. live. What I will do is touch on a few of the interesting things that happened during the live (well, what I found interesting at least), and what followed the live as well. Because JM didn't just show and dip. He wanted to take up home in his pocket, although he did think that over 7 million at his place might be too much, maybe if it was half of that it would be ok, lol. But we know JM, for reals, he wouldn't do a live at home, so he did the second best thing, which was to come back to us with posts and comments on Weverse.

Anyways, what did we have in the live?

JM talked about the 10 year anniversary a bit. Telling us he's not really that excited, but the biggest emotion he's feeling is fun. I get the not feeling excited. He also explains why. I'm happy that he felt it fun, I can't help but think that it was a bit of a bitter sweet celebration for them. He touched, not touched on it, when he mentioned the two members in the army at the moment.

JM tells us what he's up to lately, his daily schedule, more or less.

He's asked if he's working on a song, and JM like JM answers this:

He later gives us a little more detail: he's been working out and eating healthy and working on some music and living well. Once a week he allows himself to rest.

The question I ask is if JK allows him to rest too? Lol, nah. I guess that's the day they take off to visit Bammie. Ehm... we do have the scratch to prove it...

Jokes aside, JM talks about how it's good for him to have a set schedule and be at work. For him and JK both (that's me talking not JM). And seeing that RM kind of spilled the tea, we can guess that the workouts are probably, at least some of the time, together with JK.

At the 10:40 mark approx. Tae shows up in the comments.

JM, the kind of sassy and a true Slytherin that he is tells Tae, he will if Tae continues to comment for the whole time.

Well, I guess that was the end of it for Tae, lol.

Fuck people for calling him chubby in the comments. I hate this obsession with his weight, but even more so I hate people sitting at home on their asses and calling this 1.73 meter tall man that weighs 62.5 kg after putting on over 4 kg to get there, chubby. Like wtf? Man is skinny. And minus those 4 kgs he was fucking too skinny. Do they want him to starve himself? Do they not remember the issues he had in the past with his weight (issues which always linger even if you are "eating healthy" as he put it)?

Ok, so at around 14:55 min. JM's asked for the first time about the rainy day fight. When watching live, I kind of thought he was evading the question, but him answering the question later on, I tend to believe that maybe he just misunderstood the question at that point.

JM talks about sleep and R.E.M and how when you dream your mind is active and you don't really get deep sleep, and watching a video about it. I find it kind of funny and coincidental - NOT - that JK seems to have said practically the same things using similar wording in his live as well.

But no, they definitely aren't spending time together.

JM tells us he went to sleep at 6 am, woke up at 12 pm, made himself some chicken breast to eat and went back to sleep. Sound familiar anyone?

Sleep patterns. Chicken breast for lunch.

But no, they definitley aren't spending time together.

JM is asked to do the live all night.

He wants to sleep early.

Funny how that didn't work out for him... I guess someone was staying up to be able to speak with that very special person that happened to be in LA and would be waking up just as JM was supposed to go to sleep?

Slept at 12 and woke up at 8, ate at 12 pm, rest and go to workout at 2:30 pm approx., start working at 5 pm, at night he studied English. Ehm...didn't somebody else just let us know, repeatedly, that he's working hard on his English?

From his 5 June live:

Nah, I guess just another coincidence.

What I'm finding interesting is if JM is done with his promotions and it's off to the army any time now, why would he be working on his English?

Oh how I do hope that this is for something in the pipelines that involves the two of them TOGETHER!!!

Well, it is hard to break a sleeping pattern that has been with you for years and years. We all know of JM and JK's late night/early morning escapades. All night buddies that they are.

Rainy day fight, JM's version:

So this time around JM understands the comment asking about the rainy day fight and gives us his version of it.

Of course we got JM's JK smile.

He does tell us he's giving us an edited version of it. JK, on the other hand, edited without telling us, lol. Both said a lot about the what happened before and after, but magically didn't mention exactly what was said at the moment by JK to anger JM so so much for him to react the way he did.

Anyway, we got is the story from JM's pov. And yes, there are some differences, but I wouldn't expect otherwise. 2 people, 2 povs. No 2 stories would ever be exactly the same.

The main discrepancy I found was the timeline. JK's being when they were trainees, and JM's all over the place but still later on (2014-15). Idk, I'm gonna side with JK on this one, lol. Like I mentioned in the post about JK's live, I feel like this fight was way more impactful for JK than it was for JM. And as such it's more etched on his brain than it is for JM.

Something I found interesting was how each of them was keen to take responsibility for the fight. JK blaming himself for how he behaved and what he said, and JM the same.

What I also found interesting and very much not surprising is how this fandom roles. JK taking blame for the fight = "oh poor baby bunny JK, how big of him to take the blame"; JM taking blame fir the fight = "omg, how mean is JM picking on baby bunny JK, being so mean to him, ugh we hate JM."

Did I mention how there are some parts of this fandom that I absolutely despise?

One thing they both corroborated was the state of JK's eyes the morning after, lol.

Both JM and JK were happy giggly while telling the story.

A fight that definitley left it's mark of them both but also something to reminisce back on fondly.

Something else we learnt from JM's live was that he most definitely watched JK's live. He watched JK tell us about the rainy day fight and he also found JK's impersonation of G-Dragon very funny.

When is your next album coming JM?

Listening to army love letter

JM was truly moved by this.

Did JK cook Ramen for you?

JM averting eyes away from camera and moving on at the speed of light to..."oh angel pt. 2 came out today..."

There are 1001 options to why not yet. I'm not going to even start going there, because it's irrelevant and unimportant.

What I do know is JM chose to answer that comment but a. unlike the other comments that had to do with JK which he did answer, this one answer didn't come with a JK or jungkookie attached to it. It was short and he was done with it, and b. the way he looked away from the camera while saying it and repeating it once before just changing the subject was just so sus and felt like overcompensating.

Of course there are those that jumped at it like the dead feeders that they are. This must mean that they haven't seen each other. That JM isn't important to JK, etc. etc.

Funny how JM and JK don't see each other but are eating the same things for lunch, like Chicken breast and rice… or how they aren't seeing each other but JM somehow, magically, adjusted JK's mood lamp at JK's place…telepathy and telekinesis I guess. Oh, and did we discuss the sleeping patterns yet or the fact that they both happened to bring up the science mambo jumbo about sleep and dreams, almost word for word? But nope. They definitley aren't seeing each other and definitley aren't close. Also, for someone that is distanced they sure seem to be keeping up with each others lives. JM must be really bored to be sitting down and watching JK's long ass lives.

Moving on.

JM, being the king of evading answering whatever he doesn't want to answer, reads out comments asking about travel and tattoos, and decides those are topics he does not deem answer worthy, lol.

Do I talk about the goldfish lips? Nah, I don't wanna. Go watch!

Mashimaro

And this is JK way back in 2015 already.

JM assuming the position

So after saying he should do the next live lying down, cheeky thing that he is decided he's taking JK's sleeping live and raising him one, by taking us all home with him in his pocket, lol.

Although he took it all back. Yeah yeah, excuses excuses. So he can't fit 7 million into his place. Boo hoo. 3.5 million he can but 7 he can't. I do not accept such a cop out.

And then he was done, well more or less. Hungry, asking us for recommendations for food, and tired, he says his goodbyes and turns the live off.

But that wasn't the end of it. Nope.

Remember JM said he'd update us when he got home?

Well, he did. He came back to update us time after time after time.

And a comment too

Oh, and the next day as well.

Also interesting how that 5 and 8 found their way time after time into JM's posts and/or comments. 58 that happens to represent JK time after time.

At the end of the day what did we get from the live?

We got the rainy day fight - JM's perspective (muddled up timeline though, but I forgive him, getting old does make you forgetful, lol).

We got JM tell us he has seen JK's live, the one with him telling us his side of the rainy day fight and doing his G-Dragon impersonation, and I think we can assume he saw the sleeping live too.

I can't help but wonder if JM was reprimanded for commenting on JKs previous lives (you know with the shrimp, not really shrimp, comment and let me tie your hair), or perhaps he's just laying there enjoying watching his bf crush on him live.

We had JM call army and their comments cute. Funny, huh? How JK did that too?

Kind of interesting how the two seem to be saying the same things (the cute and the sleep talk), acting the same way, eating the same things.

I was going to add a clip and link here to JK's chicken breast eating tales, him cooking chicken breast with rice, him talking about eating chicken breast for lunch. Him eating healthy now days. Sounds familiar does it? JM talking about eating chicken breast for lunch, about eating chicken breast with rice. About eating healthy lately...

But damn Tumblr won't allow me. So you guys will either have to take my word for it (please don't), or go looking. You will see I am right...

For fun I will just leave you here with this:

Cause why not end this with an ear to ear smile on our faces?

[msmarvelouswinchester]

If We Love Again

Summary: Whatever problems we had back then don’t exist anymore. It’s why we have this second chance, and we can’t throw it away. -Michelle Maddow

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N (Reader)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

WC: 1942

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Post-canon where DEAN IS ALIVE, kinda sappy, body-shaming (not by the boys), hugs and kisses

Square Filled: Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong ( @taylorswiftbingo )

A/N: Alright. Alright. Hello you people! Jfc, how long has it been? A lot of things happened (personal matters and fandom problems too) so I took a break. Kind of gave up writing for a bit. Then two boys - Alex and Henry (RWRB fandom, I'm looking at you) got me back to writing! And of course I had to write for my baby, Dean Winchester!

And I've also lost my taglist. So sorry for not tagging anyone in this.

Completely unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

“What’re you doing here?” The usual routine of the bunker had been thrown off-kilter when Y/N had appeared, looking…frazzled. Maybe a tad smile but her eyes shone with unshed tears. And she was drenched to the bones and panting like she had run a mile to get to the bunker. The man welcomed her inside, saying, “Come in first, you are fucking wet.”

The words slipped and the man’s eyes widened, expecting a snobbish remark from her about the word and its placement in the sentence but soon enough, he frowned because Y/N didn't comment on the…apparent opportunity of turning the entire conversation inappropriate. Like she always did. But today, she wordlessly accepted the man’s gratuitous welcome and headed inside the old establishment.

Once at the end of the stairs, she said, rather whispered, “Hey Dean. Can you do me a favour? I need a hug.” If Dean didn't know what heaven looked like, he would have guessed he had ascended to heaven at Y/N’s request.

Dean, who had sprinted down the steps, looked at her and nodded, opening his arms. Y/N stepped into the hug and wrapped her arms around his torso, hands finding the nape of his neck. Dean’s hands had also instantly found their shelter around her body. They stayed in the position for a while. Y/N inhaled deeply quite a few times. The unforgettable scent of cinnamon and gunpowder hitting her and she let the tears fall as she let her guard down for the first time that night and Dean’s hold around her tightened. The sobs that left her, wrecked his heart. Each wail was like a dagger to his chest. He hated seeing her sad. He rested his chin on the top of her head, the familiar smell of her shampoo gave him whiplash as the memories of…everything queued up inside his head. But he still didn't know what had prompted her to show up at her place. “Y/N, sweetheart, can you look at me? I need you to look at me,” Dean murmured, “please.”

His voice washed over her and the sobbing turned into sniffles. She sniffled against the now wet, snot-covered spot on Dean’s tshirt before her red-rimmed, puffy eyes found his worried green ones. “‘M sorry,” she whimpered.

“Hey, shh, what're you sorry for? For ruining my shirt? Oh, I'll just bribe Sammy to do the laundry,” Dean grinned but the worry never left his eyes.

“I just—Dean, I'm sorry for…s-showing up tonight unannounced…I shouldn't have…what was I even thinkin’? Dean, I’ll—uh…see myself out.” Y/N said, and fidgeted in Dean’s grip but he was reluctant to let go. Not when she had just shown up a few minutes ago and broke down in his arms.

Dean said, “Stop, Y/N. Stop. It's alright. That's what best friends are for.” Nope, not letting you go this time.

“But…” Did you forget the part where we dated and broke up and vowed to never see each other again because it would break our hearts even more?

“No buts,” Dean said, as if he could read the thoughts in her head, “Whatever happened…happened. You were my best friend and you still are. If you need me, in a heartbeat, I'll be there for you. Do you understand that?” He glanced up, Jack if this is your doin’ because I pretty much dreamed about second chances last night then thanks, buddy.

Y/N nodded.

“Now let's go sit down. I'm gonna go find Sam and let him know you're here. And then we can go and kick some asses.” Dean gently guided her to his room in the bunker and sat her down on his bed, asking if she needed anything to drink, water or beer or anything to eat, knowing all they had was pie and a greasy two-days old burger in the freezer. They really needed to stock up their fridge more now they have started to live normal lives.

Y/N, though just asked for water.

Dean winked and said he would be back in a minute. And he was, with Sam in tow who had scooped her up in a giant hug. Oh, she had missed them.

“Hi, Sam. You look…different.” Y/N giggled at Sam in his formal clothes instead of the layers of plaid she was used to seeing on him. She had heard that the Winchesters had retired from hunting but seeing them bask in their post-retirement glory was astonishing.

“Yeah, had a makeover sorta, got myself a job and everything—”

“And a girlfriend,” Dean wiggled his brows and his brother blushed furiously. In between the conversation, Dean had handed Y/N a glass of water and sat down beside her on the bed.

She sipped on the water and hummed thoughtfully, “Who would have thought? Our little Sammy, all grown up!”

And for the first since her alarmingly sudden visit to the bunker, Y/N smiled.

“Oh shut up. Enough about me. Dean said something to me about kicking someone's asses. Do we have to bring out our hunting gear?” Y/N’s eyes widened at the question.

“No! Jesus, no guns. And no violence.” She warned the Winchesters.

“Can’t promise on the violence part, sweetheart!” Dean smirked. “So what happened?”

“Honestly. I think I'm good. It was a moment of…sadness but I'm oka—”

Dean cut her off, saying, “Y/N you were wailing. That was not nothing. Come on, tell us, we swear we'll be good.”

Y/N hesitated and Sam decided to put her out of her misery, “Whatever Dean says, if you don't feel comfortable in telling us. Don't tell.”

“Oh…” Dean sighed, “Yeah, I…I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You seriously don't have to tell us, if you're not up for it.”

“It's just not that,” she swallowed hard. It should be easy to tell them, right? They were her best friends. She took a deep breath and said, “The guy, I am…or rather was dating—” She felt Dean tense up beside her and Sam side-eyed his brother but she continued “-well, he was an asshole. A dickhead. A fucking son of a bitch.”

Sam chuckled. “That's quite a description.”

“Yeah. So I applied for this job in NYC and well…I got it—” her heart soared in her chest as she watched the brothers’ faces split into a huge grin “-but this moron of my ex-boyfriend decided to throw my insecurities to my face because he didn't want me to go to NYC.”

Now looking back, Y/N didn't know why she was sad. She was angry. No, she was pissed because how dare a pathetic little man order her around about whether or not she should work in New York. “He was worried that I wasn't too pretty for the NYC girls, that I was too soft to survive in a big city like New York—”

This time Dean chuckled. Because Y/N wasn't soft, she was a hunter. Born into a hunter family only to give it all up because she wanted a quieter life. But she knew how to fight, how to wield a gun. And she was pretty. Too pretty and even after four years of breaking up, Dean’s heart still skipped a beat when she called his name, looked at his face and he was still enamoured by her very existence.

“So I told him that I would leave his sorry ass,” Y/N’s lips trembled, “and he said it was going to be the best thing because I wasn't worth enough for him to fight for because I…I am ‘too much’ and I…I don't put an effort into being the woman a man wants, no…needs. And in that moment, I got so sad, I needed to see you. Because I missed you guys so much. I missed this where no one judged me or at least didn't use to until…well, I…yeah. So, this is how I showed up here.”

“You're always welcome here, Y/N. And I'm sorry, things haven't been…good for a few years but don't think for a second we will judge you or not let you back into our lives,” Dean’s hands had snaked back around her waist, pulling her closer while she continued, “Well, he was kinda right. Don't you think? I talk too much. Sometimes I go on a ramble. I don't watch my diet—”

“That son of a bitch body-shamed you?” Dean was seething.

“Yeah. And he said, I was too much of a work to stay with. I have always been told that I'm too much of a work but it still hurts—”

Dean said, “Well the guy is an idiot. You aren't too much of a work, sweetheart.”

Y/N, this ain't gonna work. You want me. I want you but you don't want this hunting life while THIS hunting is my life. This relationship is going to be so much of a work and with Cain on the loose, I don't think I can put that much effort in this. Y/N gave Dean a soft smile, “I don't want to bring up old memories but you also said that, pretty much four years back.”

Sam’s mouth fell open. “What the hell, Dean?”

“W-I? I was under the influence of the mark, Y/N and you knew it. I pushed away so many people. Letting you go was my biggest mistake. And I regret it because I still fucking love yo—” Dean’s mouth snapped shut.

And for the second time, Sam exclaimed, “What the hell, Dean?”

“Yo–love…what?” Y/N whispered.

Dean turned towards his brother, “Sammy.”

“Yeah.” Sam quickly stepped out of the room.

“Y/N. Letting you go was my biggest mistake and never calling you up was my biggest regret. I should have called because I still need you. And now I have this life. You know I start a new job next week? It's a construction but yeah. And it got me thinkin’ about you. Yeah. I was thinking how I fucked us over and never got to tell you the truth. I never got over us, you. I…I never wanted you to go—”

“I remember very clearly you throwing me out of the bunker and telling me never to contact you again. You know what, showing up tonight was my bigges—”

“Son of a bitch, I can't believe I'm fucking doin’ this,” Dean murmured.

“Wha–” The rest of the question turned into a squeak and Dean’s lips crashed into her. And then the thoughts crashed into him. Fuck.

Dean immediately jumped back from her. “I'm so sor—”

“If you dare to say sorry for this, I am telling Sammy to shoot you in your dick, asshole,” Y/N panted, “Fucking come, kiss me, you moron!”

“You sure? You just had a breakup and…”

Y/N looked at Dean, “I know. But Dean, I had kept loving you all along and maybe by some, heaven’s grace—”

“Jack’s grace.”

“Who’s Jack?”

“God. Well, new God. Jack had been living with us…its a long story for another time.”

“Yeah so, by Jack’s grace, maybe it's my second chance at being with you. Loving you.” Dean’s breath hitched at her words, “Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong.”

So he walked up to her, and pulled her into a loving kiss. It was soft, eager and…just like old times.

They separated but their foreheads touched as they panted for air. “Second chance?” Dean asked

Y/N nodded, “Second chance.”

He smiled, “This time I'll leave no stones unturned to make this work. Because Y/N, sweetheart, you are worth everything.”

Oh boy, I'm kinda rusty XD

Let me know your thoughts! Comments are highly appreciated!

[eclairfromleclerc]

Hello everyone. It’s been a long long time since I posted here but I guess life has caught up. I have been writing this chapter for god knows how long because I just couldn’t bring myself to write certain scenes. I still have so many ideas and directions about where this fic can go but as you understand, I need my time to actually try and write those ideas. I am now giving you the 8th chapter of this story which is a generous 14.6 K words to make up for my long long absence. I really hope there will be people still interested to read this. Always keep in mind that english isn’t my native language so pardon any mistakes or inclarities. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wait patiently for the next part. Take Care, xx.

All’s Fair

(Toto Wolff x Reader) Chapter 8

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

Landing in Jeddah feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, after closing the deal with the Bahraini investors from your Monday meeting, is the only thing you could have asked for. Nothing has been bothering you for the past few days but the fact that Christian still hasn't said anything about you being late to your meeting, made you feel a little weird. Your little text exchanges with Toto made up for the whole madness.

As soon as your phone connects to the network you see a new notification popping up.

Christian Dad Horner 

No need to come over today, I got everything scheduled for the press, me and Helmut will handle it

Get some rest.

You raise your eyebrow reading , not knowing what your father is up to. Is he drunk? Is he out of his mind? You lock your phone and get off the plane. You check in your hotel, go to your room and settle in. As you take your clothes off your suitcase you find once again Toto’s Mercedes shirt in it and you take it out and put it on a hanger and in your closet. Thursdays are supposed to be a fun day in the paddock because of all the media and generally relaxed vibe that everyone has. The fact that no sessions take place on Thursdays doesn’t mean everyone isn’t working hard but still Christian thought your presence was not necessary, so here you are. Your phone rings with a new notification

Wolff

What’s your schedule for the press today?

You 

Christian told me he and Helmut will handle it, I won’t be joining today

I am just bored, sitting in my hotel room 

You open the camera on the app and snap a picture of your computer on your bed and some snacks nearby and you hit send

Wolff 

So you get to relax.

Enjoy it for all of us who have to work

You 

Will do :)

You spend the rest of your day in your room and meet Max to grab dinner at the hotel restaurant. Much less eventful for a usual race week Thursday. 

The next day you wake up, have breakfast and get ready to leave for the track. You check you have everything you need with you including your iPad and your badge to get in the paddock and you drive the Aston Martin, you lease for the weekend, to the track. You get to the entrance and scan your badge. To your surprise the screen in front of you shows a red cross and a message saying ‘Access Denied’. You try once again but the same message appears. You reach for your phone to call Christian to get you from the entrance. You wait for a couple of seconds before you hear his voice, the noise from the garage familiar to your ears. 

“Hey Dad” 

“Hello” you hear him answering

“It seems like my pass isn’t working, can you please come here and let me through?” you ask

“Oh I am quite busy right now sweetheart.”

“Can you send someone else instead?” 

“Um, I am sorry I have to tell you this but there’s a reason why your pass isn’t working.”

“What ?”

“It is going to remain like this for sometime, before I trust you to come back to the team”

“Did you cancel my pass because of what happened on Monday?”

“You should have been ready for this. I can’t discuss it more right now, we are having a meeting before FP1”

“Can you at least let me know about the meeting?”

“No, you are not in the team currently so, nothing to share. Feel free to fly back to England or Monaco with the next flight you find” Christian tells you and then ends the call. 

Thank god you thought about moving a bit further from the entrance so no one heard your discussion with your father. You feel a rush of anger coming at you but you hold yourself and walk as gracefully as you can back to your car, as people are watching you. You drive off the track and you pull over at the first parking space you see. You sit there in silence, since you were so confused that you didn’t even think to put some of your playlists on, and you try to realize what is happening. You let out a scream and tears roll over your face as you think of your father and all his five year old antics. But then you get the best and the worst idea you could possibly come up with. You drive fast back to your hotel and you run to your suite. You open the closet, grab Toto’s Mercedes shirt, stuff it in your new bag  that you haven’t worn in public, put on some tight black pants, some flat shoes and search furiously for that Mercedes face mask that Toto gave you that day in your travel bag. You get back to your car and drive to the track again, pulling over to wear the shirt and making yourself look like a mercedes employee. You leave the car a bit farther than usual so that fans don’t recognize you coming out of the car with the Mercedes gear. You once again walk to the paddock entrance. Hair tied on a bun, face mask and huge Gucci sunglasses covering your face. You get there not having thought of a way to get in. So you go with your instincts. 

“Hey” you say to the security guard. 

“Hi, how may I help you?” 

“Um, I am a new employee for Mercedes but I can’t seem to find my badge to get in.” you say with the best American accent that you have. Not that it mattered since the guard was Saudi Arabian. “Can you maybe call Mr. Wolff to come here? I’ll explain the situation to him” 

“I’ll reach Mr Lord.” he says

“No, no. You should call Mr.Wolff instead. I am not sure Mr. Lord is aware of my arrival here.”

“I’ll try to call Mr. Wolff then.” 

5 minutes later you see the Austrian walking to the entrance of the paddock and on his way there he waves to people, greets others and takes some photos. 

He goes to the security guard that called him

“What is it?” he asks

“This lady claimed that she’s a new employee for your team but she seems to have lost her badge, she insisted that I should call you instead of Mr. Lord.” 

Toto turns to look at you and you don’t hesitate. If you are going to get in, this is your chance. 

“Hello Mr. Wolff. My name is Mindy Roosevelt, I am here from the American branch of Daimler.” you say-again in your american accent- not being even 1% sure that you are making any sense. “I was sent here to assist you but it has been a really tricky week for me.” you look at Toto and he looks as confused as ever. “I was supposed to be here yesterday but my flight was canceled so I had to travel to Abu Dhabi to catch a connecting flight.” you try to give him hints of who you are, not being sure he understands. “ I had to look for the advisor of Daimler US Anri Hakkassan to give me my badge but then my wallet got stolen at the airport so I was left without a badge and my ID to show you who I am.” you see Toto’s eyes getting wider and wider as he realizes who you are. Your story seemed convincing for the security guard but Toto can’t leave you outside. He takes a deep breath 

“Ah yes miss Roosevelt I was waiting for you all day. Sorry to hear this. Come on.” he says and signals to the guard to let you through. You walk in the paddock and to the Mercedes hospitality, Toto not hesitating for a minute at the thought of you coming from another team. As soon as you both get in you see Bradley drinking coffee in the main lounge area of the motorhome and he greets you.

“I don’t want anyone bothering me for the next half an hour at least” he says to Bradley and he walks to his office as you follow him closely. You close the door behind you and Toto reaches and locks it. You take off your mask trying to apologize for the mess you’ve created. 

“I am so sorry Toto” you say and you hear him laugh 

“What is this?” he asks as he continues laughing

“Are you mad at me?” 

“No, I am just wondering how the hell you got yourself in this situation.”

“Christian blocked my paddock pass”

“He did what?” he asks looking slightly amused 

“This isn’t funny Toto, you know how much I love being in the team”

“That’s why you are hijacking my team?” he asks

“Christian thought that removing me from the team for a couple of races is a good way to punish me for being late at that meeting we had.”

“He did it just because you were 35 minutes late?” 

“You don’t realize Christian has a mind of a five year old when it’s about work right?”

“You said the investors were not mad that you were late, you even managed to charm them into signing a deal.”

“Yeah but Christian was mad, and he says it’s not about the investment, it’s about basic work ethic. Anyways, I can’t buy a paddock pass because I am not the type to sit in the lounge to watch the race. I need to be in the team. Plus I can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me depressed because I am not at the pitwall or the garage.”

“How stubborn.”

“Yeah I am.”

“That’s very Horner of you.” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his obvious reference to your father’s stubbornness.  

“You are my only chance Toto, the other teams don’t even have a reason to accept me, except from Alpha Tauri, but I can’t go begging Franz about a paddock pass when he is clearly influenced by my dad.”

“Why are we even your only chance, we are your main competitors.” he asks

“I swear to god Toto I will do anything just to be here until Christian decides to drop the farce that he started. I will sign an NDA, I will keep my mouth shut about anything I see, I will delete it from my mind. Just let me be in the garage for the next few races.”

“How many races?” he looks at you

“I don’t know 3 maybe 4?” you tell him barely whispering.

“That’s a lot.” he replies “But for you I’ll try to do my best.” 

You try not to scream as you stand up from your seat, walk to his chair and hug him. You catch him off guard as he widens his eyes but then you feel his tension leaving him. 

“From now on you are Mindy Roosvelt and you came here to assist me as a part of your internship at Daimler US. You studied in New York, and you are American. You don’t know for how many races you’ll be here but it’s not long term.” Toto says taking his teacher look

“Understood.”

“You should never remove your mask in front of others, just tell them that you are at risk or something. Don’t wear high heels. We should do something about your hair so that people won’t realize it’s you and I advise you to wear sunglasses as much as possible, I’ll have Lewis hand me his collection from the Police Collaboration.”

“I’ll buy a wig. Can I have some more shirts and a couple of masks?”

“Is this shirt mine?” he asks and you nod “Looks good on you.” he says

“I’ll use yours then.” you tell him and you see him grinning. 

“I’ll have someone send you a couple of shirts, pants and shoes. I'll request your new paddock pass and I will be printing your NDA.”

“If anything leaks into Red Bull I swear I’ll be the first to go to court even if I am innocent.” you tell him and he laughs “Don’t laugh, I need you to see how serious I am about this. I won’t be saying anything to anyone.”

“I trust you. The NDA part is only about the team having to be legally protected.” 

“Okay” you say 

“Your office must be ready. It’s just the room next door, please lock it when you’re in.” he advises you “And please don’t forget your American accent once you go outside.” 

“I won’t forget. If we happen to see Christian around, just stay calm, I’ll handle it.”

“Okay” he says and you sit in silence for a couple of minutes. 

“I’ll go next door now.” you say and you stand up. “Oh sorry Toto, can I ask you about one last thing?” 

“What is it?” 

“Christian told me that I am free to leave with the next flight so I will be checking out of the hotel and I thought maybe I should be at the Mercedes hotel?” 

“I’ll arrange it. See you later.” he replies as you put on your mask and go to the room next door.  

20 minutes later you hear the door knocking, you stand up and reach for it 

“Who is this?” 

“Miss Roosevelt, I am Mariah. Mr. Wolff gave me something for you.”

You put your mask on and open the door 

“Come on in.” you tell her and she steps into your fake office

“I have this new iPad for you, Toto wanted you to have this. It has all of the passwords you’ll need and direct access to Toto’s schedule so you’ll know where you will be going and what you’ll be doing.” 

“What passwords are there?”

“Company email, team communications and private accounts.” 

“Okay thank you Mariah.”

“If you need anything else please do not hesitate to ask me, have a nice day.” she tells you and she leaves the office as you lock the door and remove your mask

You reach for your phone and text Toto 

You

Didn’t need to have access to all of this

Wolff

You have to If we are planning this lie correctly. 

I also sent you the details on your company email about the hotel room. I arranged it.

You 

Give me a minute I’ll have to get used to all of this.

The iPad is nice, I’ll give it back once I get all the details.

Wolff

Adaptability is key

Keep the iPad I don’t want you walking around the paddock with your old one, it’s practically a part of your looks, everyone will realize it’s you

Wolff

Anyways gotta work, I will be in the garage with Nyck for FP1, you’re welcome to hang by the fantasy island if you ever get the energy. 

For any question just text or call. 

You sit around for a while until your phone rings with a new notification from your calendar for the session starting in 5 minutes and as soon as you get it you stand up and leave for the garage. This time though it feels different. You used to take all your stuff with you in your pit wall seat but now there’s no pitwall seat, you’ll be just standing next to Toto, in the garage. You never got to stay in the garage, Christian always made sure you had a place at the pitwall, the garage was essentially a passage to get from the hospitality to the pitwall. You never spent a whole session in there, but now you will. The difference is the garage is not the one you are used to. It’s the Mercedes one and it’s clean, organized and much more hospitable than the one at Red Bull. At the long entrance of the garage there’s someone looking at you, making sure that you’re one of them. Little does he know, you think. 

“I am looking for Mr. Wolff.” you tell him

“He’s sat at the fantasy island with Nyck. You’ll see them once you get in.”

And you certainly do. The fantasy island splits the garage in two smaller ones for the two drivers of Mercedes, you get next to Toto and you don’t say a word. You look around you trying to take everything in, how the garage looks, how everyone is focused on what they’re doing and Toto next to you trying to manage everything that’s happening. He’s too far in to realize that you’re next to him and he nearly jumps as you touch his arm. 

“Sorry” you say quietly behind your mask. 

“It’s okay, I never realized that you came.”

“Well, I couldn’t turn down the proposal, plus I am supposed to be your assistant so I have to be with you.”

“I am not complaining.” he says and thank god Nyck is too busy chatting with Bradley next to you. Bradley hasn’t asked anything about you, he just keeps looking and staring at you but he’s not saying anything. 

For the next half an hour you see Lewis and George doing their laps, coming and leaving the garage during the session but during all this time you realize that you haven’t looked at the RedBull’s performances. The Mercedes garage felt like home for some reason. You weren’t doing nothing, you were just standing with your headphones on hearing comments about the car that you swear to yourself that you will never reveal to your team. Next to you Toto sits and watches the whole team working like a well oiled machine that he engineered. You are sure that he feels proud of himself, he has that grin on his face that makes you think so. You don’t know him really well but you have learned to pick some of those signs from the times that you’ve seen him around or that you’ve hung out with him. Again all of your thoughts are interrupted by a vibration from your pocket where your phone is. Goddamn it.  Another calendar reminder but this time it is from Toto’s calendar that you’ve managed to sync to your iPhone earlier. 

Meeting: Team Principals, FIA and F1. (1 assistant is allowed to attend) 

You widen your eyes at the notification and you tap Toto’s shoulder who is watching the timings and the data in front of him. He turns to look at you and removes the headphone from your side. You do the same but you realize Nyck is looking at you. 

“Sir, I just got a notification about your meeting with the F1 and FIA execs.” 

“It is half an hour after the session ends right?” 

“Yes but am I required to attend?” you ask

“Miss Roosevelt I believe that you were asked to be here as my assistant so since the meeting allows assistants it is your duty to be there.”

“Okay Mr. Wolff” you say and put your headphones back on to watch the rest of the session. 

“If you feel uncomfortable just excuse yourself and leave.” he turns and tells you and you nod. 

After the session in which your cars -yes, Mercedes cars- finish 1 and 3 you leave the garage and go back to the hospitality while waiting for Toto to finish his press duties.

Wolff 

I am done with my interviews, meet you outside our hospitality in 5?

You

Yes, I will be there. 

You leave and find him at the spot he told you to. You walk side by side to the race control building where the meeting is supposed to take place, him towering over you and you feeling miniscule beside him. When you are just outside Alpha Tauri’s garage you see your dad discussing with Franz and you roll your eyes praying that they will just let you go by. You get temporarily relieved when you are already past them but of course Christian has to talk to you. The man is trouble without trying. You hear him yelling “Hey Toto” from your back and you turn to face him. Toto frowns a bit but his expressions are mostly covered by his sunglasses. 

“Are you heading to the meeting?” Christian asks

“We are, yes.” Toto replies as you keep walking, Christian catching up with you. You take a sharp breath trying to persuade yourself that he won’t understand who you are. You’ve got your face covered after all. 

“I’ll join you.” Christian announces not even asking Toto who is clearly getting angrier. “I don’t believe we’ve met before” he says and turns to you.

You freeze but you regain your strength and reply to him “No, we actually haven't.” 

“I am Christian Horner, team principal of Red Bull Racing.” 

“Mindy Roosevelt, nice to meet you.” you say in your best American accent hoping that you won’t get recognized. 

“And you work for Mercedes I see. Let me guess’ Public Relations?”

“No, I am here to assist Mr. Wolff for a couple of races, it is something like an internship from the American branch of Daimler.” 

“I figured from the accent that you might be American.” Christian replies “Are you planning on staying at Daimler or leaving to get a job at motorsport?” 

“I don’t know yet I’ll see where it gets me.” you answer

“If you plan on staying here please text me your details, I got a very interesting assistant position for you.” 

“You had your daughter as your assistant from the beginning of the season, what happened to her?” you ask, trying to understand what he’s doing but you hear his phone ringing. 

“It’s complicated with her, I need something stable, and I know Wolff always gets the best of the best so I might have to get a taste.” he replies as Toto, who was silent before, scoffs in the background. Christian checks his phone and excuses himself as he runs back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality center. 

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding as you are walking to the meeting. 

“Red Bull will be trying to have technical directives for the next few races to try and stop us.” Toto says. 

“I know, I built that case and all the arguments. I know exactly what to say to convince the FIA in favor of Red Bull.” you reply “Can I talk during the meeting?” you ask

“What do you mean talk?”

“Like defending our team’s points, why technical directives shouldn’t be changed, and counterarguments.” 

“No, your role is the one of the assistant, not the meeting participant. You will only be allowed there to keep notes.” 

“I can write my points to you and you can read them and elaborate more, can’t I?” 

“Yes, you can write notes for me to read.”

“Nice, let’s get no regulation change for today.” 

“Isn’t this bad for Red Bull?”Toto asks

“Right now I am working for Mercedes, and Mercedes is only treating me right.” you answer

Toto raises his eyebrows “I am both flattered and surprised by the fact that you want to favor us.”

“You know what Toto? I am tired of thinking how Christian and Helmut will be using my case to present in this meeting. I worked hard for this and I was supposed to present my point. This meeting was supposed to be my first one.”

“Didn’t you go when you were younger?” 

“No, I didn’t Christian always had his assistant with him and never managed to get me in even when I started working part-time for him. It is frustrating to see how your own father looks to replace you at a job. And now the team that I accidentally got in, even has the ability to read my notes and present a solid case.”

Toto doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you, his body language revealing that he is scared to say anything to you. 

“Am I really that bad?” you ask 

“No. Don’t you ever say that again. You were great, you got a deal with some investors, you helped run a team and you are doing a good job at even being an assistant in the team you probably hated the most.”

10 minutes later you are already sitting at a long table. Toto is sitting on your left. You take your new iPad and a Mercedes notepad with a matching pen and rest it on the conference table in front of you as team principals and other officials are taking their seats to start the meetings. Once everyone is gathered there Stefano starts the meeting with all the formalities needed the conversation starts and after a while you start discussing the burning issue. You open your updated document that you had created this morning with all the arguments and the possible answers that could be said from Mercedes’ side, those ones you hadn’t given to your father. This was only to help your presentation to get the regulations changed but now you are using it for the opposite reason. Christian finishes presenting all the planned points and it’s time for Toto to express his opinion. You managed to write a couple of things on paper and showed him some of the points that he needs to discuss. The man has done this countless times you’re sure but he’s totally letting you handle this. 

“Okay, this is an answer to Christian’s concerns about how the regulations right now are not in the right direction. I do not have an exact answer to each and every point of Christian’s speech but I will be trying to get most of them.” he says and glances at the paper in front of him “I’ll start by Christian’s point that the issue affects multiple teams, when in fact it’s not even the majority of the grid that faces the issue that you are aiming to get changed. I can’t see the reason for the regulation change, clearly it’s not that dangerous to drivers health according to doctors and also it would be a huge waste of our resources to just redesign certain aspects of the car when we have the budget cap this year. That’s how I see it.” Toto finishes his monologue and all the eyes are on him. 

“Clearly there will be a vote for this.” Stefano says 

“Thank you for the notes.” Toto says turning to you and you nod back

Later on the vote takes place and the results are the ones that you expected. That means increased performance from Mercedes and Red Bull chasing them right behind. In other circumstances you would be fuming but now you are happy Mercedes got the chance to stop the regulation changes with your help. The meeting ends and you lobby around for a little longer but afterwards you are back to the paddock walking to the garage for the second practice session. Toto walks by your side and you feel he wants to ask you about what happened there but before he can you inform him you will need some time in your office and you leave him behind. 

You get back to your office and you text your friend Sara who lives in Monaco

You

Are you in Monaco?

Sara

Of course I am in Monaco.

The question is where are you?

You 

Issues with dad, he won’t let me enter the paddock because I was late in a business meeting and now he removed me from the team

Still in Jeddah though

Listen, I need a favor from you and your magic contacts in Monaco

Sara

I don’t wish to know more about the dad-daughter drama

But I am here to help you with whatever you want

You

I need a place to stay in Monaco

Sara

You can crash on mine or I’ll book you a hotel

You 

I am thinking more of an apartment tbh

Sara

How long do you plan on staying here?

You 

Permanently?

Sara 

OMG, you’ll become a fellow Monegasque?

I will be in contact with my estate agent

You

Yes, I am planning to finally start living in Monaco. I don’t even know if Christian will take me back to the team to be honest but even if he does I can still live in Oxfordshire or in my apartment in London.

Sara

How fast do you need it?

You 

As soon as possible please 

You lock your phone as you take a deep breath to realize the decision that you just took. Moving to Monaco has always been your dream, since you have been to the Grand Prix there you fell in love with the place and you have spent quite some time in Sara’s house during the summer when you were younger. But now you want to do this alone, you want to feel independent in the country that you loved so much. You immediately think of contacting your father. You decide email is the best option. If he wants to be a bitch so will you

Hello father, 

I am sending this email to inform you about my decisions. I will be moving to Monaco in the next couple of weeks, on my own. I believe I will be able to make my own living with the money I currently have. I am requesting my last paycheck from the team since I have been fired and I am not aware of your intentions to hire me back or not. I wish that my personal space in our estate in Oxfordshire remains unchanged in case I am able to return to my obligations to the team, and I inform you that the apartment in London will still be mine. I am still in Saudi Arabia arranging my flight to Monaco. I will be quite busy during the next few weeks so I will not be able to contact you. Should you decide that I am able to come back to the team please inform me. 

Wishing you the best. 

And send. 

You go back to the garage 20 minutes in the session and you spot Toto sitting alone at the top of the fantasy island wearing a pair of headphones while another one is resting  on the desk in front of him. You go to his right and check the timings. Currently Mercedes 1-2. He looks at you and removes the headset so he can listen. He hands you the spare headset.

“Isn’t this Nyck’s?” you ask

“No this is yours, Nyck is not joining us at this session.”

“Thank you” you say and you wear the headphones 

During the rest of the session Toto shows you all the graphs about the car performance as well as all the communications systems in the team. You are convinced that he is not supposed to do that, it’s knowledge that an assistant could live without knowing and wouldn’t affect their job but still he seems so invested in letting you understand how the team works. This experience is not about gathering information for Red Bull, you think. It’s more about how a team should be and how correct management is done. Something that you feel is missing from Red Bull. The session finishes and Lewis and George are back to the garage with another top 3 finish for the team. 

As soon as your day ends you drive your Aston Martin back to the Red Bull hotel, pack your baggage, check out and drive to the airport where you are supposed to leave the car. When you manage to do so you go to the car rental area of the airport and visit the kiosk of the company Toto texted you about and get the keys to a brand new Mercedes AMG. Shortly after that you get dressed with your Mercedes gear once again and drive to the Ritz-Carlton to check into your new room. 

Turns out Toto has not only arranged a room for you but it’s also a huge fucking suite that you’re sure most Mercedes employees wouldn’t even consider having. You take a look at the suite and you open the closet door to find it full of Mercedes team shirts, hilfiger pants and the usual Mercedes designed puma shoes. You snap a picture of the closet and you decide to document those weeks of alternate reality that you are currently living in.

When the anxiety of the weirdest day you’ve lived wears off you check your phone for your newest messages

Sara

Gerard just reached out to me.

He has a wonderful loft 2,5 km from the Quartier Du Port.

Generally peaceful location

Sea views as well

Let me know if you want to see it.

You 

If you can go there and get some pictures please do. Thank you <3

After that long day you realize that you didn’t get the chance to have a proper meal so you decide to order room service to finally eat something. You think of how pathetic it would look if you eat alone in this huge suite and before you can even cope with that thought you reach for your phone and call Toto. He picks up after 2 rings

“Hello” he says

“Hi, how’s everything?”

“Good, I am getting ready to go downstairs to the restaurant to have dinner, how are you?” “Oh same I was thinking of getting some room service for dinner since I can’t actually go to the restaurant to eat, but the suite is big enough to not feel restricted in one room. Thanks for that by the way.”

“I am sure you’ve only lived in suites for the whole year now so I thought why not. Don’t let the rest of the team know that though.” he says and you hear his laugh on the phone. You stay quiet and he does the same but when you actually decide to say something he speaks again “Maybe we can have dinner together now” he says.

“That’s why I called you in the first place” you admit, but you think you definitely sound a bit in despair. “I can’t order food for two people though it might seem weird.”

“You can come over to my suite, I’ll make sure that it will look as if I am having a meeting with either James or Shov.” he suggests

“Is it okay?” you ask again

“Definitely, I will be ready in 10, suite 264. See you.” he says and terminates the call.

You take a look at the closet trying to decide what to wear. You choose a graphic t-shirt and your most comfortable pants paired with your white sneakers, the only flat pair of shoes that you carried with you. You take a look at the mirror, readjust your hair, put on a nude lipstick and after 10 minutes you are finally ready to leave. You put on your mask because your goal for today isn’t getting caught from walking in some hotel corridor and you navigate your way to suite 264, you knock on the door and Toto is right there letting you in. He’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a gray T-shirt but he is barefoot. 

“Hey” you say and you walk in the suite looking around. It does look like your suite when it comes to furniture but the rooms are a little more private. There’s a desk that has turned out to be more like Toto’s office for the weekend. You sit on the couch while he closes the door behind you and walks in the living room. You take your mask off and sit there looking at the ceiling. Toto stands in front of you with a menu card in hand.

“I was thinking, maybe pasta?” he tells you

“That’s what I planned to order today.” you laugh as Toto reaches for the phone on the table next to the couch and orders 2 plates of pasta ai funghi with two glasses of red wine. 

“They’ll be here in 30 minutes” he tells you

“Great” you reply and stand up. You look at the place around you, stand up and walk to the desk. You sit on the only chair there and you put on his round glasses and put on your serious face as you move your fingers on the mousepad of his mac which -to your surprise- is unlocked so you are able to navigate in his computer. You open up his email but still he doesn’t react even though you are looking at you closely and you start typing and reading out loud. 

“Hey Michael, I am just sending you an email.” you say and you keep being serious while you hear Toto bursting in laughter at the couch.

“Lewis is the best of all time, he did nothing wrong, everything is red bull's fault.” you say again and he keeps looking at you. 

You keep joking, acting like you are typing a new email “Hey FIA, it’s Toto, please let us use the das. It's a great innovation and we are so smart to think about it. We are not illegal, or at least that’s what James Allison and Shov said. It’s not our fault that we are both smart and sexy. Thank you in advance.” 

“That’s not what I said” he laughs

“I’ll need proof for that.” you say “Would I make a good Toto Wolff?” 

“The best. I’ll be sure to leave you in my position once I retire.” 

“What will Daimler say for that though?” 

“You are doing your training so why would they have an issue?” he replies and you laugh. 

“Isn’t this suite a bit too big just for you?” you ask

“You have the same one but yeah it is a bit big.”

“Mine isn’t as big.” you say “Most times I feel lonely in those suites. Mine don’t have kitchens though.” 

“You cook? Too bad we have ordered already.” 

“Maybe another time.” you say and you hear the door knocking. 

“Quite fast.” Toto says and he stands up to open the door. 

You walk around the suite once again and enter his bedroom and look at the open closet which is once again full of Mercedes button ons so you grab one and put it on. You hear Toto talking and you go back to the living room but he’s still talking to the person outside the door. 

“I am kinda busy here Cynthia. I am sorry.” you hear him say

“Please Toto.” a female voice replies “Is there someone else? Is that why you ordered two plates, two glasses of wine?” she asks

“Cynthia I am in the middle of a very important business meeting, it’s about tomorrow’s qualifying and James is waiting inside to eat so that we can continue our meeting. Thank you for the service.” 

“Will you call me when you are done?” 

“I will be asleep when we are done.Thank you” he says and closes the door. 

You stand there in his living room wearing his button up feeling stupid for believing this thing could go anywhere further. 

“I should get going.” you say 

“Now that the food is here?” he asks but you don’t reply, “Is this shirt mine? Are you going to take this one too?”

“I will get back to my suite and you can call Cynthia, or whatever her name is, and tell her that James is gone and that you are okay for her to come back and do whatever you two do together.” 

“Wait, are you jealous? Of Cynthia?” 

“I am not jealous, just not in the position to get involved with someone who’s fucking around with the girl who brought him room service 3 times.” 

“I am not involved with her.” he says

“Well she seemed awfully too comfortable to be just a stranger Toto.” 

“What do you want to hear?” he asks

“That you’ve fucked her?” you tell him

“We slept together once last year.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear. Goodbye Toto.” you say as you walk towards the door, his shirt still hanging on your shoulders but before you can leave he manages to grab your hand 

“I only saw her once this year and I just said hi. We hadn’t spoken since last year but as soon as I arrived she didn't stop appearing in my way. She had reached out several times since we left last year but I never got back to her.” 

“So she’s nothing to you?” 

“She was just a fling.” he replies and you turn around to sit on the dining table. 

“Fine” you say, irritation apparent in your voice “Am I just a fling?” you ask yourself in your head so you decide to ask the same to Toto who is holding the pasta plates leaving one in front of you and one opposite to you  on the table. He doesn’t answer, instead he does the same with the two glasses of wine. His silence makes you feel like his answer is not the one that you want to hear but as he leaves the glasses on the table he doesn’t sit down, he stays there towering over you and looking at you. 

“If it was just a fling I wouldn’t risk destroying my team for it. Also I wouldn’t have done anything that I’ve done for you in any case.” he replies. “Technically you can’t even call it a fling because we only made out two or three times and we were drunk.” he says and just stays still “And still there are two glasses of wine that I ordered on that table. I am never going to learn, am I ?” he laughs

“Sorry ?” you ask but he leans in, reaches for your face and kisses you catching you off guard. You stay still in your chair as he sits opposite to you not saying anything

“The wine is red” he says then

“I can see that.” you reply

“They say that red wine can get you drunk easier.” 

You try to understand where he’s going with this

“And?”

“We haven’t drunk any of it yet so we are sober”

“Why are you explaining this to me like I’ve never drunk before?”

“This is the most sober that I will be tonight and you said that I didn’t have the guts to make a move without being drunk.” he says

“You won’t get drunk with a glass of wine Toto.”

“I know I won’t but still I didn’t want you to blame this on a single drop of alcohol.” he replies and you smile and you start eating. No one talks during dinner but you are laughing at each other when you’re struggling with eating the pasta without actually making a mess. It feels natural to just sit there and eat with his company, like you are finally where you are supposed to be. For this moment you forget everything else and you focus on what you are currently living. After some time you both finish your food and you see Toto standing up. 

“We should finish our wine on the couch.” he says, taking his glass and you copy his moves. He sits on the couch and you do the same but you don’t sit close to him. You rest your back on the couch arm and lay there putting your feet on his lap. He turns and looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He rests one hand on your feet and he grabs his phone with the other one unlocking it and looking at his mails. 

“Do you want to work?” you ask

“It’s Friday night so no.” he replies

“Then close your phone”

“What can we do instead?” 

“Talk like normal people?” you tell him

“About?” he asks

“I am thinking of moving to Monaco” 

“That’s a bold choice, have you thought about it enough?” he asks

“I have and I think it’s the best thing I can do to be honest, I have some of my friends there and I really want to leave home, I really can’t deal with Christian while he keeps treating me like this.” 

“That’s good.” he replies “What about going to the factory ?” 

“How are you doing it? You live in Monaco and you also have to go to England at the factory.” 

“It’s really tiring to be honest, you need to have a place to stay close to the factory “

“I have my apartment in London available.” you tell him

“London to Milton Keynes isn’t that easy to do on a daily basis.” 

“Anyways, going to the factory isn’t my main priority right now, I am not even on the team.” 

“You are on Mercedes.” he says

“Is this an invitation to Brackley?” you laugh

“You swore it was just for a few races, not that you will be staying permanently” 

“It was my masterplan to get hired by Mercedes.” 

“We don’t want you with us.” he jokes

“Why?” you ask 

“You are distracting the team Ms. Horner.” 

“How am I even distracting the team?” you say whining “People don’t even know who I am except from you.”

“You answered for me.” he tells you “And now I have to deal with you walking around Monaco.” 

“Oh sorry, I’ll cancel my plans then.”

“Oh no, Monaco needs a twist.” he says and you look at him but say nothing. He doesn’t attempt to start a new conversation, he just readjusts on the couch, grabs the remote and opens the TV. He navigates through Netflix’s homepage and you eventually make him watch a movie which he tried to convince you not to watch. Again, none of you speaks during the movie. Halfway through, you realize you’re far too invested in the movie and turn to look at Toto who is fast asleep on that same couch. You decide that there’s no point in staying longer in his suite and you remove your legs from his lap as smoothly as you can, you grab your phone and your shoes which you had earlier taken off and head to the door tiptoeing. 

“Stay here tonight.” you hear his raspy voice which takes you by surprise and you almost scream

“It’s better that I leave, you are tired and need some sleep.” you reply

“There’s a spare bed if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“And there’s an empty suite down the hallway.”

“Come on, aren't you bored to leave when you can just sleep here?” he tells you and well, he’s kinda right. Plus it’s not like you don’t want to spend some more time with him and it would definitely be questionable if someone saw you leaving his suite at midnight. You don’t go back to the couch but you leave your shoes down while Toto eyes every single move you make. 

“It’s quali day tomorrow, we need to sleep. Come on.”  you tell him and you walk to his room. Seconds later he follows you and enters the room. 

“I’m taking the left side.” you say and he smiles at you with a sleepy face. 

“You’re sure you don’t want to sleep in the other room?” he asks

“It’s not like it will make any difference. Except if you have a problem.”

“No, definitely not.” he replies and both of you lay on the bed, facing each other. 

“I’ll wake up earlier to go to the gym, then we can get ready and hit the track. We’ll have breakfast there.” he says and you nod. He seems very calm, eyelids heavy with sleep so you decide to lean and kiss him goodnight. As you come closer to him you can now feel his scent and warmth and you put your lips on his. The kiss is slow and sweet, somehow different from the rest that the two of you had shared up to this moment. 

“Goodnight Wolff.” you say

“Goodnight Horner.” he replies and both of you drift to sleep. 

The next day you wake up without an alarm and you find the bed next to you empty. You hear water running and figure out that Toto must be taking his post gym shower. You keep laying there and grab your phone to go through new updates and messages. Not a lot of time passes until he emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist and he holds another one trying to dry the water off his hair. You admire the sight for a while and you say “Good Morning”. He looks at you and replies

 “Good Morning Horner. Slept well?” 

“Very much thank you” you say “How about you?”

“Slept really well, and I started my day with a good session at the gym with George and Lewis.”

“Oh that must have been interesting. I would have loved to join you three.”

“It would be funny to see their reactions.” he replies as he dries his hair on a smaller white towel while he’s looking at the nightstand on your right where his things rest . He tosses the towel he was holding on a white chair in the room and he approaches you. He climbs on the bed and puts one hand on the headrest while his other hand is stretching to reach the IWC watch on the nightstand. His already toned muscles are a little more observable now that he’s lingering above you. You draw a sharp breath at the sight trying to contain your thoughts and your self but you still look up and stare at him while he makes sure that he gets the watch. When he actually does, he looks down at you and he catches you staring. 

“What?” he asks, staying still in the same position and you don’t answer but instead you scoff. You take a quick glance on his body and you let your instincts take over. You grab him from his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He immediately reacts by holding your face with his now free hand and he pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss and bites your lip. You melt into the kiss still laying down as you feel your heart racing faster than any racing car you’ve ever seen. Your breath gets quicker as you get the sheets out of your way trying to feel his skin on yours. Toto mutters “Fuck” in between your kisses making you a little crazier. He breaks the kiss and walks to the end of the bed, he grabs your legs and starts leaving trails of  kisses all the way up from your calf to your upper thigh until he stops and looks at you, eyes full of lust. He lingers above you for a second or two and he looks at you intensely trying to make sure that he has your consent for his following actions. Once you understand what this is about you nod while you're trying to regulate your breath. 

"Stay still for me baby" he requests and you try to follow his order by just laying there as he dives his head between your thighs. Your breathing gets faster and deeper as he works his way down on you making you feel like you’ve never felt before. You sense his smile while his tongue makes circles down on you. It’s more sensual than you’ve imagined it to be. And god the man definitely knows what he’s doing. He keeps going on for a while with the same dedication as he started and you feel getting closer and closer to your absolute limits. You look down on him as he now uses his hands on you, and you see him staring back. “You look so good baby” he says and all you can manage to say is his name followed by a moan. “Toto I’m so close. Fuck” you say out of breath and he dives in once again as if he heard the magic phrase. He works his magic and shortly after you probably have the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Then he stands up, his hardness still apparent. You manage to regain your strength and crawl at the end of the bed. “Time to take care of you love.” you tell him and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eye. You reach for his neck and pull him in for a long kiss as you move your hand down his torso and on his crotch. You feel him, how hard he is, and you’re secretly taking pride in your effect on him. You start touching him, trying to make him feel good in your hands. His breathing gets faster as you continue and you can sense him coming closer and closer. You want to give him your best so you slowly lean down but he stops you. “Let me feel you?” he asks, almost sounding tortured. You feel a burning desire in you. You’ve imagined this for some time. You cannot say no, not now. Instead you say “Yes please” and get on his lap. You kiss him, while you’re repeating in your head “i am actually fucking Toto Wolff”. You give him one or two strokes getting ready for him but instead of following he looks around, probably for protection. “I am on birth control” you tell him and he turns his attention back to you. You place yourself in the right position as you feel him pressuring your entrance. Once he’s in you start riding him until  you feel yourself getting out of breath. All this time muttering his name like a mantra and he is just repeating something in the lines of “God you feel so good.”, both of you feeling like you’re in another world. As soon as he gets that you are tired he lifts you up and lays you down on the bed. Now he is on top and he’s thrusting in and out in a rhythmic and satisfying way. He looks you in the eye. It’s not awkward. Not even close. You both seem to enjoy it quite a lot. It’s not after a long time that both of you finish at the same time, in an almost poetic way. 

Now both of you lay naked on Toto’s queen sized bed. No one is talking. You just lay on his torso while his hand is round your shoulders. At some point you decide to break the silence

“That was a decent start to the day.” you say and Toto looks down on you 

“Beats the early gym session to be honest.” he says

“I would be angry if you preferred going to the gym with Lewis and George to having sex with me” 

“If it wasn’t for the gym you wouldn’t be here now”

“You think it was the ‘semi naked with a towel’ appearance that made me want to sleep with you?” you laugh “I would give it to you any time of the day, even if you were wearing a garbage bag Wolff.” 

“Nice to hear that you are unreasonably horny.” 

“It’s not without a reason though. I think you’ve figured out that I do not consider you a bad looking man.” 

“I have yes.” 

“All I had to do is to just find the courage to just throw myself at you.” you laugh 

“And you kind of had to be drunk to do so?” he asks

“Yes”

“Isn’t it ironic though?” he says “That we actually slept together during the moment of our biggest clarity and sobriety?”

“What is it with the philosophical questions Toto? I just wanted to have sex with you for a long time and I did.”

“Long time I hear?” 

“Yes, are you surprised?” you ask

“No, just glad that I am not the only one. Was it good at least?” 

“God Toto, you’re asking the cringiest questions.” you say “Yes, god, it was perfect.”  you answer and you hear Toto laugh. 

“Now as much as I want to stay here and repeat this through the day, we have to go to the track” he says

“Ah yes, I am dying to get some breakfast as well.” you say and Toto laughs 

“I’ve already had mine” he says with a smirk and as soon as you get what he’s talking about you grab your pillow and start hitting him playfully. 

“Come on, let’s get ready.” 

A hour or so later, you find yourself parking a shiny black Mercedes at the track's parking area while being already disguised as your alter ego, full on Mercedes’ gear.  Today you are wearing Toto’s shirt, which is a little oversized but you manage to style it in a great way. You grab your bag, draw a sharp breath and open the door. You walk to the paddock and scan your pass as you go totally unnoticed by people around you. To them you look like a regular Mercedes employee that they have no reason to care about. Little do they know that this is actually you. To be honest you kind of love the calmness of it, how no one is chasing you for a photo or a statement on a recent drama or event of the F1 world. You just walk unbothered. You get so caught up in that thought that you don’t actually notice how fast you got to the motorhome. You get in and put on your show, greeting the majority of your colleagues that also seem ignorant to your presence there. You go to the buffet area and grab a tray for your breakfast which you eventually bring to the small office that Toto managed to provide you. Once you settle in,  you sit down to eat but you take a photo of the breakfast as a part of documenting that crazy weekend. You also decide to send the photo to Toto. 

You 

[photo]

Grabbed breakfast and brought it to the office. Drop by if you don’t have anything better to do. 

Wolff

Just walked in. I’ll grab my coffee and be there in 5. 

You 

Cool.

Five minutes later you hear a knock on the door followed by “Miss Roosevelt it’s Wolff here.” 

“Coming.” you say and unlock the door for him to come in. 

“Hey” you say

“Hello” he answers and looks at the full tray “You got quite a lot of food there.” 

“Yeah, that start to the day just opened my appetite.” 

“That’s good to hear” 

“So, what am I supposed to do today?” 

“Well, practice starts in 45 minutes and then we have qualifying.” 

“I am aware of the program, thank you.” 

“You won’t let me finish my thought will you?” he says

“Sorry” you tell him and look at him 

“I am thinking, maybe you can join me and Nyck in the garage for practice.” he pauses to think “And then you can take a look at the data before qualifying.” 

“No I cannot do that” you say 

“Why not? I know you can read data, you have the basic skills and knowledge to judge a performance run.” 

“I don’t want to be involved with your data. It’s confidential.” you reply.  It is actually crazy that Toto is okay with the idea of you handling the team’s data, as if you are not his number one opponent. 

“I know it is. But I trust you, plus there’s an NDA that you’ve already signed. And the fact that you deny reading the data makes me want to give you access to them more than before. Because I know how serious you are about not leaking stuff.” 

“Okay I will take a look, but only for a short time.” you tell him 

“Oh and then I want you to do a tour to a group of visitors that will be coming to the garage.” 

“Aren’t there people responsible for this?” you ask, reminiscing the fact that in Red Bull you have people who are responsible for the hospitality packages. 

“There are but they are shitting their pants because Christiano is dropping by later.”

“Who is Christiano?” you ask, slightly confused

“Ronaldo” he replies

“He’s coming to the race?” 

“Yes. He’s actually coming both today and tomorrow and the team is invested in doing everything perfect for him.” he says and you are still staring at him with your mouth open “We are a bit short staffed in that team so an extra help would be amazing.” 

“Good. I’ll do that too.” 

“Great, thanks love” he says and you freeze at the name but before it gets too awkward the door knocks. 

“Toto, this is James, do you have some time to review the quali strategy?” you hear through the door

“Yes, I will be there in a sec.” he replies “Gotta go now, i’ll see you in 45 right?” 

“Right” you tell him and he is out of the office. I

You spend the next 30 minutes scrolling through twitter and eating the breakfast that you got earlier as well as taking a look at Toto’s schedule for the day. Later on you leave the office, mask on once again, and make your way to the garage and to the top of the fantasy island where Toto and Nyck are waiting for the session to start. Both cars are in the garage waiting for a sign to leave once the lights at the end of the pitlane turn green and at the same time all the mechanics are making the final touches on the set ups. You greet everyone sitting on the fantasy island and put on the spare headphones as you did the day before. The session is done as usual, the drivers  going in and out of the garage to change setups on the car to find an optimal one for the qualifying. Performance runs are also on the programme but only during the last fifteen minutes of the session. Everything concerning telemetry is being sent directly into Toto’s computer on top of the fantasy island as soon as each lap ends so that he can see how they are done and areas where they can be corrected. The session ends quicker than it usually does when you are at Red Bull because suddenly all the chit chat becomes interesting and not as boring as it is with Christian. 

“P1 and P2 huh?” you ask him. Nyck is already out of the garage, something about having to talk to some foreign media made Toto let him leave before the small pre qualifying debrief.  

“It isn’t bad is it?” he asks back.

“It is not for us” you tell him “ It is for the rest of the grid though. I bet Christian is fuming right now.” 

“It is not bad for them. If we are in front they will have to innovate more to reach us. It motivates them.” 

“I bet they are not seeing it this way though.” 

“Is Christian really fuming if we finish in front in practice?” 

“Yeah, he’s not a fan of coming second in any session of this sport.”

“Too bad for him.” he says and you laugh. At this moment your phone rings with a notification from the calendar app reminding you of an interview Toto has to attend. 

“Oh, I am seeing now that you should be outside the media pen for an interview.” you tell him

“I am very much aware, thank you.” 

“Well, why are you not there now?” 

“I prefer to hang out with my beautiful assistant instead.” he compliments you

“Oh my god, shut up” you laugh and he does the same “Come on, interview, now!” you say as you tug him and try to push him to the corridor that leads to the paddock playfully. 

“That’s unfair. I am the boss. You are not in the position to prohibit me from doing anything.” he laughs as he walks reluctantly to the paddock. 

“Well, it seems like I am in charge of what you are doing so technically I am allowed to tell you what to do.” you tell him “I will be enjoying a cold cup of coffee in the meantime.” 

“Once again, that’s unfair Horner.” he says the second part whispering so that people are not able to hear. “Also, you have work to do. The telemetry data is already in your email inbox waiting to be read and commented on, so if I were you I would actually save the coffee for later.” he says and you look at him flabbergasted. “Oh and as soon as you are done with that you have the little tour to do in an hour and a half. Take care Ms. Roosevelt.” 

Before you are able to form a sentence he is already gone, more like running to the media pen. You on the other side, walk back to your office, open your new iPad and take a look at the data. The lap times look good, still slower than the lap time that you calculated the pole position would be on, but they look good. In the data you can see clearly that the engine mode is in a much less aggressive setup that you are sure will change during qualifying. You add some comments using your iPencil concerning parts of where you think the drivers can gain time, as well as some questions for the strategists and the mechanics. When you are done, you forward your notes to Toto’s email and check the clock to see that it has actually been 1:30 hours and that it is actually the time to go meet the people you will be giving your tour to.

You find them all standing on a circle by the garage entrance at the paddock, discussing, taking pictures and being excited. There are 5 of them, 3 guys and 2 girls, all of them close to your age. You approach them and greet them. One of the girls looks gorgeous. The boys aren’t bad either. 

“Hello everyone.” you say “You must be waiting for a paddock tour right?” 

“Yeah” one of the boys says and the rest of them nod. 

“Okay!” you say in an excited tone, trying to engage with them. “I am Mindy. I will learn your names during the tour I suppose.”

“Nice to meet you” says one of the girls “Likewise” you answer “So, should we start? Are you all excited?”

“Very.” one of the boys says.

 The tour starts and you take all of them for a walk in the paddock to see all the motorhomes and where you actually work and you are actually describing all the details about what you are showing to them. You take them by the media pen, where you spot Toto giving another interview for pre qualifying. All of the guys and the girls get very excited and try to snap a picture even from far away. Then you take them by the garage but just before you manage to get in, you receive a new notification on your watch

Wolff

Just finished the interviews at the media pen and managed to see your notes and questions on the telemetry data. I forwarded them to James and he immediately got back to me asking who made all those brilliant notes and questions. I guess you are wasting yourself with management, you should become a mechanic instead. 

Oh I also caught a glance of you and the guys during the tour. I hope that you are doing alright. We don’t want to make Ritz’s employees sad, we still have a few days left before we check out. 

You read the message and realize that the people that you’ve been interacting with are people working at your hotel. So you decide to stop the tour and actually get to know them. 

“You know what? Let’s introduce ourselves before going into the garage.” you tell them and walk back to a bench located at the paddock. 

“So as I told you before I am Mindy Roosevelt, I am currently working at Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 but my position is totally different to what I am doing right now. I am actually working as an assistant to upper management, but the hospitality team has a very special guest for this weekend and they were busy enough so you are left with me.” you say  “Go ahead, introduce yourselves.” 

One of the guys starts talking “I am Ahmad Hussain and like everyone here, I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in Jeddah. I am working as a cook in the hotel kitchen so everything that you’ve tasted in the past few days might have had to do something with me.” 

“I loved everything that I’ve tried, thank you Ahmad.” you tell him

“I am Benjy Ayad, I am half american half saudi arabian and I am currently working at the Ritz-Carlton as an economics advisor.” he says

“Mohammad Dawoud, and I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in room service.”

“Oh, I will be requesting for you Mohammad.” you laugh and he takes a bow showing his honor. 

“I am also working as room service at the Ritz.” you hear one of the girls saying. This time it’s the pretty one

“That’s nice. What is your name?”

“I am Cynthia Jones.” she says and you freeze as you realize that the girl standing in front of you has slept with the man you slept with this morning. Jealousy as well as curiosity are your main feelings so you ask for more information. 

“Sounds very non-Saudi Arabian. Where are you from Cynthia?” you ask

“I am from the UK actually. I was born and raised there, my parents are British but all of a sudden I ended up here. I was looking for a position in management in some big companies here in Saudi Arabia and I got this job as a part time until I figured things out but I ended up staying for two years.” 

“That’s crazy. And why management? Do you have a degree?” 

“Yes, I actually do. I got my degree in Switzerland and I tried pursuing it but right now I haven’t found anything that I like.” 

You nod in agreement, trying to register all the information that you’ve learned from her directly. Toto was secretive about their relationship so learning even the slightest about her is important. Finally you turn to the last girl left

“Alina Mohammad, I work as a receptionist at the Ritz. Nothing to know exactly. I was born and raised here and I got a degree in touristics so I got the job of my dreams.” 

“You guys seem really happy with what you are all doing. I hope you keep doing what you love.” you say “I mean you all managed to buy a paddock pass that most people wouldn’t dream buying at what? 24?” 

“No actually we didn’t buy a pass, the team invited us to join today’s action.”  says Benjy

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.” you say 

“Yeah they came in last night and handed us the passes just before our shift ended. We went crazy.” says Cynthia and you look at her. 

“Sorry Cynthia, if I may ask, what time do you finish your shift on average?” 

“I don’t know, maybe like 11pm or something? Yesterday I finished at that time.” she replies. At this point you are now sure, Toto asked her to come there today. There’s no other explanation. As soon as he saw her he wanted her to come back. That’s why he invited her. It wasn’t planned for you to do the interview, but he changed it to make you interact with Cynthia, to actually hurt your feelings. 

“Mindy, is everything okay?” Mohammad asks as you have totally zoned out

“Sorry, I spaced out for a bit. Yes, everything is good. Shall we continue with our garage tour?” you ask and they nod. You go back to the garage trying to explain as many things as you know about the things there. To be honest, your mood isn’t quite the same as it was before you knew who the beautiful blonde by your side was. Luckily, the tour comes to an end 30 minutes later but sadly it is qualifying time so you have to be by Toto’s side by the time the session starts. Cristiano Ronaldo is also there by Toto’s side. You nod and greet him as Toto introduces you and you just get back to work. 

During qualifying you sit there, not talking, just looking at the screen and the timings and occasionally checking your burner twitter account for any comments.  Although you are pissed at the man next to you you definitely don’t want Mercedes to qualify in bad positions so through Q1 and Q2 you are relaxed since it is obvious that both cars will be through to Q3. During Q3 you keep your fingers crossed and mostly during the last runs for pole position you keep praying as you usually do in Red Bull. When the timer runs out Lewis and George are sitting P1 and P2 respectively, locking the front row for tomorrow’s start and as soon as the team figures it out, the whole garage erupts in cheers. Toto reaches Ronaldo for a handshake, celebrating the results.  Your eye catches the guys from earlier cheering and hugging each other, taping with their phones. Toto turns to you and you do a high five with him as he smiles at you. You remain indifferent in his reaction, keeping yourself busy until George and Lewis are back to the parc ferme to congratulate them. Once you are done with that you simply say goodbye to everyone there and leave. 

You go back and grab all your things and without saying a word to anyone you drive back to the hotel. When you are ready to go back to bed, you see a new message

Max Emilian Verstappen

Where are you? I missed you on track these days. 

You

Sadly Christian thought it was a fair deal to throw me out of the team for god knows how long.

Happily for you I will be out of your way for that time so you will relax. 

Also congrats for the P3 today, it was a decent run but the mercs had the pace. 

Max Emilian Verstappen

Oh Christian…

Shut up, I already miss you. Are you in England?

Thank you H.

You

I am in Monaco, at a friend's house. 

You feel kinda terrible for lying to him but there’s not much you can do. 

After you chat with Max for a while, you order some food to eat but then get another message. 

Wolff

Lost you after qualifying and when I asked they told me you had left. That wasn’t a bad result. 

Anyways I am going back to the hotel and I am planning to order something to eat, you can hang around my suite if you want and we can discuss strategies for the race. 

Let me know what you are about to do 

You 

I’m not feeling very good, sorry. 

And tomorrow I will be coming in late, probably an hour or so before the start

Wolff

Okay. Do you need any help? Should I drop by your suite? 

How am I supposed to work without my assistant?

You 

I am not your main assistant Woff, you have a hundred people helping you, me not being there won’t be a huge issue

No, don’t come. 

Just let me fucking be for once okay? 

Later on you see that he read the message and didn’t reply. You take a hot bath and go to sleep for tomorrow. 

You wake up the next day pretty late but just in time considering the fact that you are planning to leave in 2 hours. You order breakfast to avoid having something at the track and start getting ready as you are waiting for room service to arrive. You eat and then leave. 

Since you left the hotel earlier your time of arrival is estimated earlier than you actually planned so you decide to take a drive in Jeddah’s streets to soak in the country. An hour or so before the start you actually arrive at the track. You park your car and walk to the hospitality. Then you lock yourself in your office and just read notes for the race. Later on you hear a knock on the door. 

“It’s Wolff” you hear him say and you open the door even if you don’t want to. You don’t speak. You stay there and look at him. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks 

“I am okay, yes.” you reply “Do you want anything else?” you ask him since he’s standing there just watching, 

“Why are you acting like this?” he asks

“Like what?” 

“Like Christian Horner’s daughter?” 

“Yeah, you should be expecting that since that’s exactly who I am” 

“You haven’t been like this since Bahrain.” he says

“Well if you don’t like it then you should call Cynthia.” you tell him

“Is this what this is all about? Are you jealous?” he asks

“Listen Toto, if you want to discuss this I will discuss it outside this office please.” you tell him

“Okay then, follow me.” he says 

“What? Now?” 

“I want to solve this right now if it’s okay.”

“The race starts in 30 minutes.” you say 

“It will take less than 30 minutes, follow me” he says 

Both you and Toto walk in the motorhome before he manages to open a door at the end of the hallway. You climb off the stairs and you reach a place somewhere in between a wall and a closed section of the motorhome. 

“Speak” he says 

“Bossy much ?” you ask

“Yes, now please tell me how did the whole Cynthia thing reoccur after yesterday morning?” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know.” you tell him

“I do not have a clue.” he says 

“You don’t have a clue about inviting her here?” 

“Who?” 

“Yesterday you made me do a paddock tour to a group of people.”

“Yes, they were the Ritz employees, I am aware of that”

“So you are aware that Cynthia Jones was proudly here watching F1 and enjoying qualifying with a VIP pass right?” 

“I was not.” he says and honestly he seems like he’s telling the truth. 

“You didn’t see her in the garage?” you ask

“Well, believe it or not I do not see everyone who is in the garage.” 

“You didn’t invite her ?” 

“Nope.” 

“She said that she got her invitation right after her shift ended. And her shift ended after you saw her.”

“I was aware that they were going to be here. Just not the names of who was coming. The hotel management was supposed to do a draw and pick 5 people to join us as a gift. It’s part of our contract.” he replies

“So you didn’t know she was coming?” 

“I am going to say no once again.” he says “You can search my messages if you want to.” he says as he hands you his phone. 

“I trust you.” you tell him and you hand him his phone back 

“After all I am not that big of an asshole to invite an ex fling and then sleep with you the next morning.” 

“Don’t you dare do this again.” 

“Invite people or sleep with you?” 

“Oh Wolff fuck off.” you joke

“With you, gladly.” he replies

“Shhh” you tell him 

“You are not going to shut me up this way.” he says and then looks at you “Also take off this goddamn mask now that no one can see us, I am tired of seeing you with it.” 

You take of your mask and smile at him

“You’re sure that no one can see us here right?” you ask and he nods. 

You lean on him and kiss him, catching him off guard. He returns the kiss as he smiles in it .

“I am sorry, Wolff. I won’t overreact about Cynthia again.”

“It’s alright Horner.” he tells you. 

“The race starts in 15, should we go?” 

“Let’s go.” he says and both of you walk back to the garage and your usual places. 

At the start of the race both Lewis and George start off well, keeping their initial positions with Max lurking just behind George. Standing next to Toto, you have access to everything on his computer so you see lap by lap each and every thing you’ve learned to look for in order to plan a strategy in your head. When things get tough and Max gets behind Lewis in P2 your brain is running as fast as it can. The Mercedes strategists are proposing possible pit stop strategies based on the data that they have. However they don’t know one thing that you do. As an executive at Red Bull you have to be aware of code phrases over the team radio, which to be honest can’t be forgotten in a day. So as you’re seeing in the data Lewis is trying to manage his tires and you hear the message “Okay Max, it seems like we are going for a one stopper here.” , you feel the bells ringing in your head. 

The “It seems like” phrase is a code name for doing exactly the opposite that the phrase says so you are 100% sure that they are going for a two stopper in order to win. Something that Mercedes has done countless times. 

Toto had told you earlier that if you want to intervene you can press the button and speak but he thought that you wouldn’t be crazy enough to actually do it. When you crack the code of the Red Bull strategy you immediately press the button saying strategy and speak. 

“Red Bull is going for a two stopper.” you say and Toto looks at you with his eyes wide open. “In about 5 to 10 laps they are going to be back on the softs to chase us. I would suggest pitting Lewis for a second time, turning the engine up and trying to chase him.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks

“The “It seems like” is the key phrase Toto. Please let Lewis know. ” you tell him

“Okay. Do what she said. I am waiting for your calculations. Get back at me in two minutes.” he says while pressing the strategy button 

“Thank you.” he says. 

Later on it seems like Red Bull is caught off guard by Mercedes’ move and they try saving it as well as they can but they fail. At the end of the race the checkered flag is out and Lewis wins the grand prix in Jeddah. 

“Yes boys, come on. Amazing strategy” says Lewis through the radio as everyone in the garage is celebrating. George finishes P2. 

“Thank you for the amazing drive Lewis.” says Toto 

“Get in there Lewis!” says Bono through the radio. 

Toto turns to you and says thank you while he’s off to congratulate the other team members. After Lewis gives his post race interview to Naomi Schiff, you storm off to the pitlane to watch the podium ceremony. Max is also there and he seems a bit disappointed by his streak of P3’s during the season, but you’re barely worried. Right now you are celebrating about Lewis and George. You take your phone out and snap a picture or two. After the champagne opens and the trophies are given you go back to your office and lock yourself there once again. You’re hearing all the congratulations from people in the hospitality center and you sit on the office couch feeling that happiness and euphoria of winning. You haven’t spoken to anyone since the race ended but you are now just laying there happy. A long time after, you hear a knock on the door. You’re sure it’s Toto since the race debrief and the interviews must have ended by now. You ask who it is though.

“It’s Lewis. Can you please open up?” he says and you freeze, stopping dead in your tracks. You put on your mask and you open the door. 

“Oh my god Lewis hi. Congratulations on your win.” you tell him

“Thank you Mindy. It’s Mindy right?” he asks 

“Yes it is.” you tell him

“And you’re a Daimler intern?” 

“I am yes.” 

“Can you please take off your mask so that I can remember your face?” he asks and at this point you are pretty sure he knows that you’re not who you say you are. 

“I am sorry but I am at great risk, I don’t want to get COVID or anything.” you tell him trying to avoid the situation. 

“Don’t worry, I am wearing masks and I also tested negative this morning, so you can take it off.” 

“Is it okay if I don’t want to?” you tell him

“Yes it is.” he says and he turns to face the door, finally going to leave. “We will be outside celebrating the 1-2 with the team, it will be amazing if you come, even for the picture.” 

“I am not sure I have to be there.” 

“I know you had something to do with that win, this strategy didn’t make itself Horner.” he says and you freeze as you register how he called you. 

“Excuse me?” you tell him 

“Next time that you fight with Toto, don’t do it outside my driver’s room Horner.” he says. “I know what happened between you two, I saw you without your mask and I saw you kissing my Team principal, there’s no denying.”

“Shit. Toto said no one could see us.” 

“I could see you but Toto thought I would be at the grid by then when I clearly wasn’t.” 

“I am sorry. You can’t say this to anyone.” you tell him

“I don’t plan to, I just find it funny that you switched teams.” he says

“Yeah, I had to because my dad’s an asshole.” 

“Okay, now you get what everyone’s saying right?” he laughs

“Yeap.” 

“You should come outside, let’s celebrate. You earned this victory as much as I did. Plus I want to have you in the picture. You can wear your mask.” he says and he extends his hand to make you stand up from the couch. 

“Okay” you say and you walk with him 

“Oh and by the way, Wolff is heads over heels for you, I am pretty sure he’s liked you for a long time and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. That Cynthia thing is completely bullshit.”

“Really?” you ask him and he nods smiling. 

Both of you walk outside to celebrate that amazing day with your amazing achievements. Mercedes really feels like home for you. Toto’s eyes light up when he sees you outside, in between the mix of employees. He stands by your side for the photos and then all of the team starts playing with champagne. It’s a really great night in the desert that makes up for the craziness of the weekend which makes you relax ahead of the new week coming up. 

[n0v4t33z]

The Syndicate - Chapter 9 : Once upon "Us"

Pairings/Interactions: Choi San X Female Reader, Park Seonghwa X Female Reader, Yunho/Jongho X Female Reader , Bang Chan X Female Reader

Genre: Lots of angst, Romance, Crime Fiction, Psychological Drama

Word Count: 6.3k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Mentions of Illegal activities (i.e Kidnapping, extortion, assassination etc.), flirting, (Not edited properly, I'll come back to it when I can)

Spotify Playlist🎵 | Series Masterlist📝

Author's Note💌: Kind of scared to post because of what happened but I'm doing it for @the-midnight-blooms because she's been waiting anxiously for this chapter! So here you go! On a side note I can't believe it's been a year since I've posted this series and began posting my stuff on here. (Partially edited, will finish ater)

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A few knocks on the door drags me out of my thoughts where I absentmindedly reply “Come in.” Jongho smiles and gives me a small wave “Hi y/n, I’ve brought you the medications you’re going to need to take for your wound up until it’s somewhat healed. There's a note in there telling you the instructions.” I smile and take the small paper bag and give Jongho a big hug which slightly takes him aback “Uh, y/n?” I pull back and gently pat his shoulder “Thank you Jongho, for everything.” He gives me a small shy smile and shakes his head “Oh, no worries. It’s my duty as a doctor.” I nod “Yeah, but you were in no shape or form obligated to be kind to me. Granted maybe because I was a detective but none the less you still did it.”  

He quietly nods and looks at me for a few seconds then pats my head “Take care Detective, I know you’re perfectly capable of protecting yourself but honestly you just never know what that man is planning.” I nod “Don’t worry about me, I know who the enemy is now. I’m just hoping Seonghwa makes it back to you guys unscathed. I'll protect him as much as I can.“ Again, there was another knock at the door then I look over at the door somewhat surprised “Uh, come in?”

 Yunho’s smiling face peeks into my room “Ah, here you are! Seonghwa’s in the car!” He walks over to me and pulls me into a gentle hug “Who knew I’d get attached to having a cop here, take care Detective.” He pulls back and gives me a warm smile and tugs my arm walking towards the door “Let’s go, he’s waiting.” I tightly hold onto my medicine bag and stop myself from walking behind Yunho “Uh, wait I haven’t seen San, I need to say bye.”

 Yunho presses his lips into a straight line and sighs “Well, about that. He does want to see you, he told me how attached he got to you but he also knows himself very well and he knows that if he sticks around he’s not going to let you leave.” I stare at the ground for a few seconds “I need to see him.” I grumble while Yunho looks up at the ceiling and sighs “I’m sorry but he specifically told me-” I pull away from his grip and run out the door and into Wooyoung’s room knowing he’s got to be there. I look around and notice it’s only Wooyoung sleeping peacefully. 

Jongho walks over to me and whispers “San left, he’s not here. He knew you were going to try and look for him.” I feel my stomach drop and I begin to feel sick. He knows me so well he prepared everything so he could avoid me because he knew I'd look for him. Jongho escorts me out of Wooyoung’s room and closes the door behind him then he nods at Yunho “Alright y/n, ready?” Begrudgingly I nod “Yeah, I guess” When we enter the tattoo shop I could see from the inside Seonghwa was leaning against the car waiting, as soon as we step out of the tattoo shop he gives me a small smile and opens the car door so that I could get in. 

Before I get in I feel a familiar tap on my shoulder and when it turn around I see it’s San. Before I even get a chance to react he pulls me into a hug tight enough to hold me close but gentle enough not to hurt me and buries his face on the shoulder that’s not injured. I notice his shoulders are slightly moving along with his hitched breathing, that’s when I realized he was crying. So I wrap my arms around him and hold him causing me to start trying to blink away my tears. “San...” His face remains buried in my hair for a few more seconds and when he slightly composes himself he looks at me and gently puts his hand on the side of my neck and slowly moves his hand up to my cheeks gently wiping away my tears “I was supposed to leave because I knew that if I stayed I wouldn’t let you leave, but as I was leaving I just felt like I couldn’t do that to you. Not when you’ve helped me so much.“ I shake my head holding his hand while his hand is on my cheek “It’s okay, as sad as I was I understood why you did it. I won’t hold it against you, ever.” His tears well up again then he lets out a small chuckle “I know you did, but deep down my heart wouldn’t accept that. I was already not able to go with you to something so Important, so to pull this again... I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself if I miss the opportunity to send you off. So, I'm sorry for scaring you like that.” I wanted to say so much but yet so little came out “It’s okay, you’re here now.”

 He looks at me with saddest gaze I’ve seen from him and looks at me for quite a bit before he says “Goodbye Detective y/n. Please take care.” He hugs me tightly, a little too tightly to where Jongho says "Uh boss careful her shoulder-" he only loosens his grip a little but he doesn't let go. The whole time I bury my face in his neck taking in his comforting scent for the last time in a while. Yunho, and Jongho, stand there with shock written all over their faces whilst Seonghwa silently stands there just watching. Suddenly when I feel like it's been enough I pull back and cup his beautiful chiseled face in my small hands and gently place a kiss on his cheek and give him a small smile "Take care, Choi San. Don't get caught." 

He pulls me in to a hug again, almost like he wasn’t satisfied. I'm sad we'll be apart for a while but I'm hopeful that I'll be able to help San and finish this once and for all even if I'm at a higher risk of being the one that's dead. I stand there for what felt like a while in his arms then he pulls himself away from me and looks at me in the eyes for a few seconds then glances over at Seonghwa. He silently walks over to me and helps me in the car then once we begin to drive to Lulens is when it began to set in that I was walking into my own grave. Then again, I died once. There's no harm done if it happens again, only this time it'll be permanent 

Throughout the whole drive back to Lulens I was quiet due to the huge knot in my throat, I kept replaying San’s sad gaze looking at me. It haunted me, it’s like he knew that after I get rid of this man I’m not coming back. It broke my heart, I wanted to stay with him forever. Even though I know there’s no way in hell everyone else is going to allow it because if it wasn’t Wooyoung or his mother it’ll be another rival mafia that will separate us whether it’s by distance or death. I know it comes with being in this business, nothing is forever no matter how pure it is. 

Consumed in my own thoughts I stare out the window and notice occasionally from the corners of my eyes that Seonghwa would glance over at me to check up on me evrey once in a while. He only spoke to me asking if I was hungry before we arrived to our destination. When we arrived I noticed it wasn’t a hotel, nor was an apartment but a house, not one I recognized though. It was odd because Seonghwa seems to know this place. I get out of the car and carefully inspect around us to see if there was anyone watching and to my relief there wasn’t anyone suspicious, at least not yet. Seonghwa walks up next to me while holding my luggage “Don’t worry, no one’s here or we would have gotten a heads up. Just relax, it’s okay.” 

Once he opens the door he leads me inside and I look around, the house seemed to be in pristine condition and very organized. I turn and look and Seonghwa slightly confused “So, how exactly did you get this house this fast?” He sets his keys down on the counter and smirks “Well, that’s because it’s my house.” I blink a few times “Oh wow, you’d think another woman is living with you because of the cute cat figurines on the wall over there.” He chuckles “Oh, those are mine, I like cute things. I also really like Lego models.” I smile “That’s honestly a pleasant surprise not many men are comfortable admitting that.” he shrugs “Hey, if it’s cute who can refuse? Besides it's a crime not to like cute things you know?” I giggle “you’re right, and for the first time ever I'm glad you don't think of it as something you should be ashamed of.” He chuckles and gently pats my head while he walks me into a spare room and turns the light on setting my things down next to the bed “This is the guest room, it will be your room since I figured you’d be uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as me.”

While flipping the pages of the scrapbook a picture of mom and grandpa clapping with me while I take my first steps catches my eye. I stare at the picture for a while tears warmly stream down my face then Seonghwa kneels next to me and puts his hand on my shoulder and gently squeezes “I know you miss them, that’s why I brought this back so that you could see them evreytime you miss them. Soon you’ll see your family again I know so.” I let out a soft sigh then I wipe the tears from my eyes again with my sleeve then i shut the scrapbook and turn to look over at Seonghwa “Hwa I don’t know how I'll ever be able to repay you for this. I feel like I owe you my life for this seriously, you don’t know how much this means to me” He smiles and shakes his head “There’s no need, I just wanted to be a good friend and help you stay strong and give you a ray of hope.”

 I smile and hug him tightly slightly surprised he hugs me back and rests his head on top of my head “I’m sorry San can’t be with you in moments like this.” I rest my head on his shoulder “It’s not your fault Hwa, don’t worry about it. At least I have you, you’re also another person I hold very dearly in my heart along with Yunho and Jongho.” He silently nods acknowledging me then he changes the subject and pulls away meeting my eyes “Come on, you should get ready for bed. It’s late and you need to rest, remember you have work in the morning.” I sigh painstakingly “Ah, yeah. I forgot about that..” He helps me put the scrapbook away and helps me up “Also, after your bath don’t forget to change the bandages and take the medicine Jongho gave you okay? The bathroom is down the hall to the left.” I nod “Thank you Hwa.” 

 I look around realize he made it seem like it was my actual room by having my makeup and perfume on the vanity, the bed was the sheets I had back at my old apartment with same purple comforter I’ve had since college. Something told me to check my closet and when I opened it I recognized my old clothes. I turn to Seonghwa slightly teary eyed “How’d you get my stuff?” He gives me a cheeky smile “I was a secret undercover spy..” He winks at me and continues “I just wanted you to have a few things that you’d recognize so that you’re at least comforted that you have a few of your possessions and feel like yourself again even though unfortunately it’s not much since I didn’t have enough time to retrieve all of them.” I shake my head wiping the tears threatening to fall “No, thank you. This is enough, thank you so much.” I kneel down and see a small box full of stuff with one item in particular catching my attention. It was a scrapbook photo album I was working on filled with photos of family, friends and special occasions. 

After he leaves I sit on my bed and look at my closet and bed. Sill feeling weird about the overall new environment “Time to go back to pre kidnapped y/n.” After a warm shower and taking my medicine, I get to bed. That’s when I realize putting on a bandage by yourself especially while your wound is hurting is quite difficult. The last thing I want is to go bother Seonghwa, I guess I’ll just go to bed like this and let the wound breathe. I should be fine since I barely even move in my sleep anyway. I climb into bed and lay there until I eventually fall asleep because the medicine kicked in.

In the morning Seonghwa gently shakes me awake and in his usual soft voice he says “y/n, it’s time to wake up. I woke you a little earlier since I thought you might want to do your hair and makeup. I’ll get breakfast started.” I slowly sit up slightly wincing in pain then Seonghwa looks at my shoulder “Your shoulder is bleeding, did you forget to bandage it up?” I look down and realize it was bleeding a little bit, I must have snagged it while I was asleep. Nice. I shake my head “Actually no, I tried to but I couldn’t do it because it was kind of hard because it was hurting and I didn’t want to bother you.” He softly laughs “y/n, you’re silly. Of course you’re not bothering me, next time just let me know. You don’t want that wound to get infected.”

 I nod then he walks over to the night stand where the bandages are and he points at the straps of my tank top “Um, do you mind putting these down for a little bit?” I nod and pull the straps down when he lays down the first part of the bandage for me to hold I notice his hands were shaking a bit so I decide to look away while he wrapped my wound. When he’s done he gently pats my head “I’m done, go ahead and get ready I’ll make you some breakfast.” I nod and get out of bed and sit in front of the vanity and realize this is all my old makeup and brushes. A small smile paints my lips and I begin to do my makeup how I would have usually done it. After getting ready I step into the kitchen, he hears my heels clacking against the floor and turns his attention away from the stove and his jaw drops for a moment and quickly goes back to what he was doing on the stove “Oh, hello Detective y/n y/ln you made it just in time for breakfast.”

 I smile and sit down at the table “It smells delicious, I’m honestly not used to eating breakfast especially when I’m going to work. It was usually just coffee.” He serves me my food and sets it in front of me and smirks “Well, get used to it because since I’m your pretend boyfriend I have all the responsibilities of one and that includes cooking for you.” I giggle “Ah yes, lucky for me he’s my best friend too.” Seonghwa gives me a warm glance at me while I take a bite of my food. I happily pat the table, he sits down across from me while stirring his hot chocolate “Hey, why aren’t you eating?” He takes a sip of his drink and says “I’ll eat after I drop you off at work. If I eat with you I’ll slow us down and you’ll be late.” I take a sip of my coffee “I can just drive there, you don’t have to drop me off Hwa it’s okay.” He shakes his head “Hm, you’re injured. You shouldn’t be driving, besides I’ll be dropping off your lunch later.” My eyes grow wide “What if they see you though?” He shrugs “It’s okay, my actual government name and face isn’t in the data base remember? So don’t worry.” I can’t believe I forgot, it’s the sole reason Seonghwa is with me.  

After I eat Seonghwa drives me to work and before I get out of the car I see Detective Chris with another colleague looking directly at the car I’m in. Suddenly I feel Seonghwa gently pulls my face in his direction and that’s when he leans in for a kiss. For a second I feel my heart stop then I realize the reason he did it was because they were looking in our direction. When I realized this it was too late for me to kiss him back he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and gives me a smirk “Have a good day at work sweetheart, I'll drop off your food around lunch time.” In too much of a shock I stammer and reply with “Ah, thank you.” When I walk into the police station, as soon as I enter the station it gets uncomfortably silent and quiet then Chris pops out of nowhere and says “Ah, hey Detective y/ln! Captain Lee let us know you were coming back today! I’m glad your back!”

 I uncomfortably laugh and smile then I walk over to Detective Chris and pull him closer to my level “What did I tell you about not telling anyone I was alive?” He chuckles gently patting my back “Don’t worry, the whole staff here had to sign an NDA about this so it wouldn’t get out to the press. It just didn’t make sense to Captain Lee to keep you isolated working by yourself so rest assured your family and nobody besides the people who work here know.” Quietly I nod then I look around “So where’s Captain Lee?” He points at his office “Uh, in his office..He told me to wait for you so that he could give us our next case.” I look at him with furrowed eyebrows “Wait, he told me I was supposed to do paperwork though?” Chris shrugs “I don’t know that’s just what he told me but you should ask him about that.” 

When we walk over to Captain Lee’s office, and I won’t lie that I got hit with a wave of nervousness and deja vu. It’s been a while.  Captain Lee looks up from his paper work and gives me a smile with his signature golden tooth showing “Detective y/ln, you’re here.. It’s good to have you back. Your shield is actually being made as we speak and you’ll receive a new one in a few days. As for your weapon..” He pulls out a form from his filing cabinet “Just sign this and your badge number.” He sets the gun on his desk with a holster next to the form and hands me a pen. I sign the form and he scoots my weapon to me then Chris asks “So, what’s the case we’re working on Captain.” He picks up the file and hands it to Chris “Homicide at a gas station alleyway. ” I bite the inside of my cheek then I say “I’m sorry Captain but didn’t you say I was supposed to be doing desk work until I recovered?” He nods “Oh you are, you can work on that while still at your desk. You’ll only need to do a few things at the moment for now since we got this case about an hour ago so once you’re done with that you can start reviewing some police reports that are pending.” Chris hands me the file and I nod “Okay, sounds good.” Suddenly the phone rings and before Captain Lee answers he promptly shoos Chris and I away “You’re both dismissed.” 

Chris and I nod in obedience and exit his office, whilst we walk towards the main station floor where the desks are Chris abrruptly stops me “I’m sorry but I have a question y/n” I hum and look around to find my desk “What is it?” He rests his hand on his holster “Since when did you have a boyfriend?” Why’s he asking? Is it because he saw Seonghwa and I kiss? “Ah yes, we’ve been dating for about a year already. I just never spoke about him because I didn’t feel like I needed to, I also didn’t want to bring up something so personal here at work but after what happened he helped me out so much and so now I don’t mind being seen with him here anymore.” He cocks an eyebrow “Really? But if you really liked him wouldn’t it be kind of harsh on him to keep him a secret? I mean I’m sure your parents don’t even know about him.” I shrug “It just wasn’t that serious at the time, just casual dating. Once the kidnapping happened that’s when things got serious between him and I.” He taps his chin then says “But that’s weird, I don’t think I saw him at your funeral though.” I let out a slightly irritated sigh “That’s because San threatened him if he went. There happy? Can I go to my desk now? I don’t know why you interrogate me about my personal life, it’s clear I want privacy with that.” 

He puts both his hands up defensively “Okay, okay. Sorry. I just wanted to know more about the guy who owns my partner’s heart. ” I walk towards my desk and sit down and groan slightly annoyed. Chris is going to be a pain in the ass, I better tell Seonghwa about our “relationship history” just in case so there’s no slip ups. After I finish the few tasks for the gas station homicide and move onto reports concentrating to the point where 6 hours pass by and I forget Seonghwa was due to drop off my lunch. Suddenly I receive a phone call and absent mindedly answer it without checking the ID “Hello, this is Detective y/n y/ln. ” The voice at the other line says “Hello Detective, you have a Mr. Park here to drop something off for you. He says it’s your lunch.” I look at the time and gasp at how quickly time surprisingly passed “I’ll be right over, thanks.” I get up from my desk and walk over to the front desk waiting area where he was waiting. As soon as he hears the door open Seonghwa walks towards me and gently places a kiss on my forehead “Hey, I brought lunch.” I smile then I nod “Alright, how about we go and eat it at the courtyard outside?” He chuckles “That sounds great.” I look at the girl at the front desk and notice she was making googly eyes at Seonghwa and so it starts..

 When I step outside towards the courtyard then he looks back “That girl at the front desk was hitting on me, she made it so obvious it was actually kind of funny seeing her stumble.” I look over at him “Wow Hwa, since when did you become so evil?" He smirks "I'm only good to you sweetheart." I nervously chuckle "Okay, you can drop the act now there's no one here.." He gives me a loving gaze and  helps me sit down at a picnic table furthest in the back of the courtyard for privacy then sets down my lunch in front of me. " I told San I was going to do a good job so I'll commit to it, you can break character if you want. You never know who's listening especially here.” I glance around and look at the other police staff and other fellow officers coming in and out of the building fully absorbed in their conversations making me feel slightly paranoid.

 Seonghwa carefully sets up my eating utensils next to the tupperware then pours me a fresh cup of lemonade. He seemed to be very particular about being neat, it definitely does make sense now considering how he always looks well maintained. “Oh, here you go sweetheart. I don't know how long you'll be here I made you kind of a big lunch so you have leftovers so you can eat them later when you get hungry." I look around and pat next to me changing the subject. "Okay sit, I need to tell you something." He obediently sits down next to me and looks at me quite concerned "Is it something bad?" 

"Ehh, well depends on how you look at it. It's about my partner Detective Bang. The thing is he's asking alot of questions about us like since when we started dating and why you didn't show up at my "funeral"." He smiles "I see I did a great job convincing him." I sigh and gently smack his arm "Hwa this is serious, if either of us slips up we're in trouble. So that means we have to rehearse and plan out how we met, when our anniversary is, how long we've been dating which by the way I told him we've been dating for about a year." He shrugs "Hm, sounds about right actually and we met at the cafe when you dropped your drink." I purse my lips and shrug “Fair enough because that actually happened” Seonghwa chuckles “What about our anniversary?” I sit there for a few seconds “March 4th ” He cocks and eyebrow “Why’s that?” I smirk “Your birthday is April 3rd and reverse it it’s March 4th so it’s easy for you to remember.” Highly impressed he pats my head “Such a smart girl, but don’t you think they’ll notice?” I shake my head “Nah, they won’t look too hard into it especially Chris he’s kind of slow when it comes to things like that.”  from the corner of my eye I see a male figure approaching then I pleadingly look at Seonghwa then he continues “So today, since my girl is going to come home from her exhausting first day of work I decided I wanted to do a surprise for you.” Suddenly I hear a few footsteps behind me then I quickly turn around and notice it was Chris. Great. 

“Hey y/n,I wanted to tell you I brought in some statements and witnesses.” He hands me another folder with some papers “Alright, thanks for letting me know.” He curiously glances over at Seonghwa then back at me “So this is your infamous boyfriend huh?” I nod “Yeah. Chris, my boyfriend Seonghwa. Seonghwa, this is my partner Detective Christopher Bang.” Seonghwa sweetly smiles and reaches in for a handshake to which Chris gladly accepts “Would you like some?” Seonghwa points at the beautiful garnished homemade food on the table then Chris shakes his head “Ah, no thank you but thank you for offering. Sorry I interrupted you guys just wanted to drop this off.” I slightly furrow my eyebrows watching Chris walking away “I’ll see you at the interrogation rooms in ten.” He nods digging his hand into his pocket. “Sure, enjoy your lunch” As soon as he’s gone Seonghwa utters in a low voice “He’s weird.” I sigh “Yeah, before I was gone he wasn’t like this. Something is up with him.” We stay quiet for a few seconds then I suddenly gasp “Oh yeah also before I go I wanted to show you I got my gun! The only thing is I’m a little worried it might have a tracking device on it since it was in Captain Lee’s drawer.”  Seonghwa looks around and extends his hand “Can I see?” I nod and hand him the gun and he begins to take it apart and carefully examines the gun.

 He removes the magazine and looks inside of where it should go then he says under his breath “Well, there’s nothing here, but have you received your badge yet?" I shake my head " No, I'll receive it In a few days because it's "being made" at least that's what Captain Lee told me." Seonghwa looks into the distance and says " When you do let me know, I have a feeling he might be getting it bugged or putting a tracking device in it to see where you come home to probably to get a general feel of your routine so you're easier to track." I sigh and run my hand through my hair “This is so annoying. Okay well, I guess I have to go now. I’ll eat this later.” I close the lid of the Tupperware suddenly Seonghwa reaches over and takes my hand gently placing a kiss on the back of my hand “Make sure to eat, I don’t want you to get sick.” I press my lips into an awkward smile “Yeah, thanks I will.” I get my lunch box and walk back inside the police station. After the interrogation, I sit at my desk working on the case from that morning until San comes to mind. I miss him. 

“Alright so tell me did you go to school or were you home schooled?” San shakes his head “No, I went to a private school, Silver Coast Academy” My eyebrows slightly rise “Oh, wow I heard to enter that school you either have to be rich, have good grades, or have connections there” He presses his lips forcing a smile “Which I had, except for the grades. I was just average believe it or not.” I giggle and turn to my side to face San properly “That’s okay, grades don’t define you. Only how hard you worked.” He covers his mouth and looks away “Ohh you’re not going to like it but I wasn’t good at that either. All I cared about was video games and comics” I gasp and sit up “Comics?! Which ones?” He purses his lips for a few seconds to think “Dark Titan, Nighthawk, Solar Flare” I give him a big smile “Oh! I’ve read Nighthawk and Solar Flare but not Dark Titan. Have you read Black Knight?” He smiles showing me his dimples  “I have actually, is that one your favorite?” I nod “Yes, it is actually” He smirks “It’s my favorite now too.” My face heats up and I dryly laugh trying to cover it up.“Stop..” He chuckles giving me a dimpled smile “What?!” I touch my warm cheeks trying to cool them off and pout “You’re such a weirdo.” He leans in close enough to where I can feel his warm breath on my neck and whispers “Yeah, your weirdo.” 

I smile to myself gently touching my cheek while staring down at the keyboard of my computer until Someone knocks on my desk causing me to flinch and turn in the direction of the noise and to my disappointment it’s Chris. “Hey, Captain Lee says he needs to see you.” I raise an eyebrow “Oh? Me? Did he tell you why?” He shrugs “I don’t know, he just asked me to tell you.” I nod and walk towards Captain Lee’s office.

What is he going to blackmail me with? I knock and open the door and see Captain Lee turn away from his computer and smile “Detective y/ln hello, how’s your first day so far?” I close the door behind me and sit down forcing a smile “It’s been good, good to be back.” he chuckles “Is that so?” I nod “Yep.” He adjusts his glasses “Well, I called you here because I need to talk to you about a few things.” I rest my elbows on the arm rests “Yeah sure Captain.” He continues “Why exactly were you left alive by the Aurora Syndicate?” Starting off strong are we? I shrug “Honestly I don’t know, San took a liking to me pretty quick though.” His eyes staring deep into my soul trying to break me trying to seem much more intimidating than he actually is “Oh really? How come? What did you give him in order for him to do that?” I raise an eyebrow “What are you trying to get at Captain Lee?” 

He dryly laughs “Nothing, I genuinely want to know why he decided to let you live. Usually when someone is taken hostage specifically ordered by San himself they end up dead despite negotiations. Does this have to do with you knowing about The Obsidian Dragon?” That asshole knew. "Wait, so you knew from the beginning I was probably not coming back? You knew San would kill me regardless if you obeyed him or did you not?" He smirks "I plea the 5th Detective." He did. Now he's closed off. He continues and says “So how was he? San, was he ever aggressive towards you?” I rest my head on my hand  “Not that I remember. They kept me drugged most of the time to avoid me fighting back. I did get beat pretty good a few times though, not by him but by someone else.”

He writes something down on a piece of paper in front of him “Hm, did anything else happen?” I shrug “I don’t know honestly I just can’t really remember much, I just remember crying alot.” He slowly nods and continues writing things on the piece of paper then he looks up at me “Well, that’s all the questions I have for you today Detective.” He abruptly stops and something shifts in him then continues "One last thing I will say is I better not find out you helped them Detective…” Nice, the threats are here. 

“Why would I do that? Just because he let me live? With all due respect sir but I don't think I'll be changing sides anytime soon despite what happened." He slightly raises his eyebrows "Oh really? Well, that’s good to hear Detective the thing is you just know too much and due to human error sometimes it may or may not slip. Which reminds me, I need the address you’re residing in currently so that I can send patrol cars to your residence since Detective Chris mentioned you’re a bit concerned with Aurora Syndicate members finding you.” I nod “Oh yes, um I actually don’t know the address but I’ll ask my boyfriend.” He gives me a slightly confused look “You’re in a relationship Detective?”

I quietly nod knowing what he was going to suggest “Uh, yeah I am. We’ve been together for about a year.” He opens his filing cabinet and pulls out a few papers “Alright, that’s good. I suggest you do a background check on him and an interview here with the police just to make sure he’s clear of anything that may be a problem.” He’s really trying to find something to frame me with “Of course, thank you Sir.” He continues “Make sure to turn this into the clerk.” He gives me a smile pointing at his eyes cheekily “I’m watching you Detective “ I awkwardly smile knowing damn well it wasn’t a joke. I dismiss myself and walk out of the office. It’s my first day and he’s onto me already, I wonder how long I have to endure this.

Back at home Seonghwa and I sit in the living room in silence, after telling him everything Captain Lee told me that day. I feel bad because I know this is probably the time when he’s probably regretting everything. “I have to let San know about Lee keeping an eye on us now just so there are no surprises and we get caught.” We should keep an eye on him as well but how? “Hey Hwa, do we happen to have wiretapping and tracking devices?” He bites the inside of his cheek trying to recall “I can get a hold of them but I don’t have any here in my house at the moment for obvious reasons.” I nod “That’s fine, when you do get a hold of them just put them in my room.” Seonghwa’s eyes get round “Wait, are you going to bug Lee? So blatantly?” I nod “Yeah, I’m just going to observe him for a bit to see when it’s the perfect time to install them. I can even go as far as deleting the footage of me installing the stuff in case he gets suspicious. I’ll most likely do it when I stay late since I don’t want to risk someone seeing me.”

Seonghwa slightly purses his lips “What about me? Is there anything I can help with?” I nod and smile “Actually yes, doing that interview with the police and passing it would help a lot just so they’d stop with the questions.” I lay back on the couch  “Alright fair enough sweetheart I’ll make you proud.” He smirks and winks at me while I simply stare back at him taken aback. I can’t move what the hell was that? I don’t know whether I should laugh or be shy. I let out a nervous laugh “Very funny Seonghwa.” He takes the plate and cup in front of me and simply smiles. Ever since San told him to be my fake boyfriend he’s been…Flirty. Why? Why is he taking this seriously if it’s fake? I get it if it’s for show but here when it’s the two of us he keeps up the act. Is it- Wait, no don’t answer that.

•································•································•

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Previous Chapter |

[triscribeaucollection]

Can’t Breathe In

(SO. What if, way back during Infinity War, the group on Titan fighting Thanos managed to get the gauntlet away from him? Say, for example, Peter yoinks just a tad harder at the right moment, pulling it and the four already-retrieved Stones off. There’s still the problem of keeping them away from the purple bastard, so Strange opens up a portal back to Earth, tosses the kid, the gauntlet, and the Eye of Agamotto through for good measure, before he and Tony and the Guardians do their level best to put Thanos down for good.

One thing leads to another, all roads converge in Wakanda, and there ends up being a knock-down drag-out free-for-all fight between the present Avengers and the remaining Children of Thanos for six Infinity Stones in one room (Shuri having just enough time to cut Vision free of the Mind Stone before shit hits the fan).

Stuff is exploding, containers are breaking, half a dozen all-powerful artifacts tied to the foundations of Existence are flying through the air, and a certain Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Doofus manages to grab two at once.

Things get... interesting, after that.)

---

Peter is so screwed.

Even if he survives, even if he manages to change enough things to save the day for everybody else, he is so screwed, because he did the one thing Doctor Strange explicitly said not to and at this point it’s definitely going to kill him.

Just. Slowly. Because that’s Parker Luck for you.

Panting through the pain, Peter manages to finish scrawling out the last of his future-notes, doubled up at the very bottom of the page. Then he promptly drops the pencil and grasps at his head, whining faintly.

Some of it’s definitely a residual after-effect of accidentally grabbing two Infinity Stones at once and super accidentally activating them. The rest is a miserable combination of adjusting to no longer having his powers, adjusting to once again having asthma, and of course the bout of bronchitis his thirteen year old body happened to be dealing with when Peter’s sixteen year old mind got dropped into it.

Zero out of five stars, do not recommend.

A hand knocks on his bedroom door, and Peter barely bites back an instinctive whimper. “Y-yeah?”

“You okay in there, kiddo?”

And there’s the other thing. Ben is still alive.

Ben is alive, May isn’t a widow, and Peter really needs to make sure they both stay that way.

But he also needs to warn Mister Stark about everything that’s coming.

“I- I guess,” Peter says miserably, and it’s enough to make his uncle open the door and step inside. The kid’s heart stutters just at the sight of him: familiar concerned expression, rumpled well-worn clothes, brown hair that’s only just started to turn gray around the ears.

“Well, you must be feeling a little better, at least,” Ben mutters, glancing between Peter at his desk and the abandoned bed. “I’m ducking out to run a couple errands, kiddo, shouldn’t be gone too long. Want anything?”

He takes as deep a breath as he can manage at the moment. “Actually- yeah. Could you drop off a letter for me?”

Ben raises an eyebrow, mouth quirking up a little at one corner. “A letter?”

“Mmhm.” Peter reorganizes his papers real quick, then folds the four sheets in half before taping them closed. On top goes a post-it note, and one final scribble: for FRIDAY or Happy Hogan, please.

...after a moment’s consideration, ‘please’ gets underlined an extra time.

Ben’s second eyebrow has risen as well by the time Peter turns back, holding out the makeshift envelope. “Where am I taking this, kiddo?”

“Manhattan. Stark Tower.” He can see the startled blink, and hurries to go on, “It’s really important, Ben, please. If I could take it my- myself-” His lungs choose that moment to induce a coughing fit, and Peter practically doubles over as his whole body shakes.

One of Ben’s large hands settles between his shoulder blades, rubbing up and down until Peter can breathe again. “Okay, buddy,” his uncle murmurs, gently tugging the papers free of his grasping fingers. “Okay. Stark Tower. I can do that. Might take me an extra hour, though- are you going to be okay by yourself?”

Rather than speak and irritate his poor throat, Peter raises a thumb’s up.

Ben grins, just slightly, and ruffles his hair. “Go on back to bed, then. I’ll top off your water cup and head out.” A+ plan. Truly phenomenal. Peter drags himself out of the wobbly desk chair and shuffles over, dragging the same blanket he’d brought along with him in the first place. Toppling over onto his old mattress is easy; so is making an unintelligible noise of gratitude when Ben sets down a refilled plastic cup. And from there, Peter slowly... drifts... off.......

...only to lurch back upright in a panic, mere minutes later, because he addressed the notes to Friday.

FRIDAY, the AI who doesn’t exist yet. Instead of JARVIS, the one who does.

Several curse words drop from his mouth, as Peter scrambles to try and find his- his phone. Which he does not have yet. Because it was a Congrats On Starting High School present after he turned fourteen. Because of course.

Nothing for it, then. As miserable as he feels, Peter needs to get dressed, go after Ben, and swap out the incorrect post-it for a properly addressed one.

When asked, he will very much blame his current fever and illness to explain why he didn’t go out into the living room, and use the landline they still possess at this point in time to call his uncle and fix the error. But that’s later, and this is now, and Peter fumbles for his jeans and a mostly clean t-shirt.

---

Ben Parker would like to claim he isn’t a terribly gullible person. Nor a distrusting one, either. But this feels like a delicate balance between the two, as he takes the subway to cross from Queens over to Manhattan, and then walks a couple blocks to a particular nigh-infamous building. ‘Stark Tower’, ‘Avengers Tower’, either way, the gleaming structure easily attracts attention, even when you aren’t a rubber-necking tourist.

The sheaf of papers crinkles in his back pocket.

If Peter weren’t so sick, Ben probably wouldn’t be humoring him like this. Then again, if Peter weren’t sick, he’d more than likely have found a way to sneak off to Stark Tower himself to deliver the mysterious letter. Taking a deep breath, Ben steps through glass doors, and does his best not to hunch his shoulders or otherwise look nervous around so many people in business attire.

Even so, his thrift store outfit and old leather boots draw at least a few stares.

The young woman at the desk he goes up to at least smiles welcomingly, and Ben does his best to return the expression. “Hi there. This is going to sound weird, and I apologize in advance, but my kid’s sick and begged me to drop off a letter for him.”

“A letter for whom, sir?”

“Ah-” Ben pulls the folded papers from his pocket, miraculously managing to avoid losing the post-it note on top. “-Friday or Happy Hogan? He wrote down both their names, but I’m afraid I don’t know who either is.”

The woman’s face does something complicated when she sees the taped letter, but thankfully doesn’t laugh or scoff. “Well... Mister Hogan is Mister Stark’s head of security, but I’m afraid I haven’t heard of anyone named Friday who works here.” Something chimes on her computer screen, and she glances away to tap a quick reply.

Ben can’t help but blink. “Security? Huh. I would’ve figured a scientist or something...” Well, to be completely honest, he figured a feverish Peter would write directly to Tony Stark, considering how many Iron Man posters occupy the kid’s bedroom walls. But a security man just makes no sense at all.

“Pardon me, but what was your name, sir?”

“Parker. Ben Parker. Uh, like I said, I’m really just humoring my kid while he isn’t feeling well - I understand if you can’t actually get this to Mister Hogan-”

“On the contrary, sir,” a British voice says out of nowhere, making Ben jump. “I have already taken the liberty of summoning the appropriate individual to meet with you.”

He stares at the young woman, who looks startled but not nearly as confused. “That was Jarvis,” she quickly explains, “Mister Stark’s AI. Jarvis runs most of the building’s automatic functions, but- he doesn’t usually speak to guests without prompting.”

An uneasy feeling creeps up the back of Ben’s neck.

‘Jarvis’ doesn’t talk again, and the young woman directs him to wait by the end of the welcome desk for whoever’s coming down to meet him. It’s awkward, to be sure, especially as more people idly glance in his direction.

But then an elevator dings, and Ben turns, and shock overwrites literally everything else.

“Mister Parker?” Tony Stark asks, walking briskly towards him. Behind his glasses, the man’s eyes dart to either side of where Ben is standing, and they flicker slightly with something he would almost call disappointment. “Hi, welcome, sorry to startle you, but we’d better have this conversation in private. Jarvis said you’ve got a letter?” Wordlessly, Ben holds it up. Stark huffs, quickly plucking it from his fingers, but doesn’t bother to do anything besides tucking it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Then he claps a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and steers him straight into the waiting elevator. “How’s Peter?”

The shock is still going strong. That’s the only explanation for why he blurts out the single word response, “Sick.”

Stark’s head snaps around. “Sick? With what? How bad is it?”

“Bronchitis,” Ben barely manages to say, most of his brain power currently occupied trying to reconcile the fact that Tony-Iron-Man-Stark apparently knows his nephew. “Not- not too bad, this time. How do you-?”

“J, you downloaded the kid’s medical files, right?” Stark asks the open air. 

“Yes, Sir,” the same disembodied voice as early rings out. “This would be Peter Parker’s fourth bout with bronchitis in the past three years. Records indicate he is taking appropriately prescribed medication and has been home from school for the past two days.”

“Good, that’s good.” Still, Stark’s expression is twisted unpleasantly, and Ben can only stare in a sort of detached fascination. “Double check that our pharmaceuticals division doesn’t have anything better for him, J.”

“Of course, Sir. I also need to inform you that we have received confirmation from Prince T’Challa of Wakanda, and reassurance that his family is taking the necessary precautions.”

“About time Pink Panther got back to us. Anything from Fury and our super-duper wonder spies?”

“They have yet to emerge from the secondary conference room. Mister Barton’s only communication at this point has been to request another round of takeout and coffee, as it looks to be, and I quote, ‘a long-ass day on top of a long-ass night’, Sir.”

Stark snorts. “Got it. Approve whatever he and Nat want. Anyone in the lounge?”

“Negative.”

“Right, take us there, then.” Sighing, the celebrity finally turns to actually face Ben. For a long moment, he only stares. “It’s different, seeing you in person. Good different. Peter actually say anything about the letter?”

“...no,” Ben manages to answer. “No, and I don’t- no offense intended, Mister Stark, but what the hell is going on?”

“Tony, please.” A flash of genuine pain crosses Stark’s face, before he returns to the bland observing expression. “And none taken. I’ve had a lot of people ask me that question since two this morning.”

The unease returns, this time in Ben’s stomach. At 2am, he and May were woken up by Peter shouting in his room - a fever dream turned nightmare, or so they assumed.

He doesn’t particularly care for the coincidence.

“So tell me, Ben Parker: do you believe in time travel?”

---

Peter is so, so screwed.

He left the apartment without his key. Without his shoes. And the longer he attempts to keep shuffling down the city sidewalk only in his socks, overwhelmed by noises and smells and the bright sun overhead, the more it becomes abundantly clear:

He messed up.

Majorly messed up. On top of his other major screw-up, and the more he tries to squint at street signs without the glasses he also forgot at the apartment, the more his head pounds and his nose runs and his chest hurts.

Eventually it’s just- too much. Peter coughs weakly into his elbow, and scoots into the first alley he can find.

---

Once, not so long ago, Ben didn’t think aliens or superheroes existed outside of books and movies. Time travel isn’t that far a leap in comparison.

But the more Stark keeps talking, the less Ben takes in, overwhelmed by a couple of things the celebrity breezed over, which stand out all the more for his lack of emphasis. First and foremost: Tony Stark cares about Peter. Knows him. Likes him. Invites him on weekend visits to work on personal projects. Illegally hacks medical databases to double check that the boy is getting appropriate medication for his current illness. Ben might actually laugh if it weren’t for the second thing:

He’s going to die.

Stark doesn’t outright say that, of course, but he tip-toes around the fact that he knows Peter well enough to care about him, and he knows May well enough to be wary of lying to her, but today is the first time he’s ever laid eyes on a living, breathing Ben.

Peter is going to be a superhero. May is going to be a widow. Peter caused some kind of magical accident that sent the Avengers back in time three years. May is going to be a widow. Peter apparently wrote out four pages of notes about incoming disasters for nothing, because Stark and his teammates have been scrambling for the past ten hours to prevent all of it and more.

May is going to be a widow.

Eventually, Stark must realize Ben’s only absorbing every fourth sentence or so, because he abruptly finds himself pushed down into a sleek leather chair, glass tumbler in hand. He doesn’t bother to check exactly what kind of alcohol he’s been given; it burns going down, and that’s good enough to restore some clarity to his overwhelmed mind.

First thing’s first. “Peter has superpowers?”

“He will. Probably. We know when and how he gets them, at this point it’s just a matter of making sure he’s in the right place at the right time. If he still wants- I mean, I’ll be honest, I’d probably sleep a little better knowing the kid isn’t swinging around Queens stopping muggers in the middle of the night, but I also know there’s only a point oh two chance he’ll willingly avoid becoming Spider-man again.”

Ben nods, swallowing down his initial reaction to that word-vomit. “Okay. Okay- next question.”

“Shoot.”

“How do I die?”

Stark promptly winces. “...alright, poor choice of words on my part. Look, Ben- can I call you Ben?” He nods. “Thanks- look. I don’t know all the details, but Peter definitely will, and between the two of us I can guarantee you won’t this time. Hell, I’ll get you a nano-tech bulletproof vest if I have to, but we’re going to make damn sure you live to a ripe old age no matter how many burned casseroles May tries to fix for dinner. Alright?”

Something in the back of Ben’s mind whispers that it can’t possibly be that simple, but he’s willing to take the other man’s words at face value for the moment. “Alright.”

“Sir? Captains Wilson and Rogers have returned, with two guests.”

“Hot damn. Okay, Ben- just hang tight for a minute, I need to say hi to Ruby Tuesday and her delinquent brother, and then we’ll see about getting Peter up here, yeah?” Ben doesn’t have a chance to respond before Stark is up and moving, heading for the elevator just as it slides open.

Captain Rogers is apparently that Captain Rogers, and Ben’s eyes widen so much he half-wonders if they might actually fall out of his face.

Steve-Captain-America-Rogers steps out of the elevator, face tired but triumphant, dressed in civilian clothes rather than his iconic uniform. That’s definitely The Shield slung across his back, though.

Behind him comes another man, dark-skinned with short hair, rolling his eyes as he finishes saying something to the people behind him. Both young, on the thin side - the girl’s hair is long and dark, the boy’s shifting from a similar color to silvery-white in a way that doesn’t look like a dye job. He’s nervous; she’s relaxed. Stark approaches them with stiff shoulders and a careful smile.

“Tony,” the girl says warmly, and half the tension drops away from Stark’s frame.

“Wanda,” he replies, stopping short of arm’s reach. “You’re okay?”

“I will be. I have Pietro again.” She reaches out, and catches the boy’s hand where he meets her halfway. “Ultron?”

“Shut down for good. Never even got the chance to wake up and cause trouble.”

The girl lets out a low, shaky sigh, squeezing her eyes shut as she nods. “Good. That is- very good. Vision?”

“We’ve got him. Sort of- no body for him to land in like the rest of us, obviously, but Cho’s putting one together, and there’s a copy of his consciousness tucked in with Jarvis right now.”

“One moment please, Miss Maximoff,” the AI says. A moment later, what sounds like the exact same voice speaks again, but with a great deal more emotion. “Hello, Wanda.”

“Viz,” she replies, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “You are alright?”

“I am much better, now that you’re here.”

Well didn’t that sound adorably sappy. Some small sound must escape Ben’s mouth, because a moment later the girl, Wanda, is looking right at him with a frown. “Who is this?”

“Ben Parker,” Stark promptly answers, shifting in place to make a sweeping gesture. “Better known as Spider-man’s uncle. He came to drop off some notes from the kid, who apparently didn’t realize we all got swept back in time thanks to his stunt with the Mind and Time Stones. Speaking of whom- Jarvis, have we got eyes on Underoos yet?”

“Yes, Sir. But I am afraid Peter Parker is not in his Queens apartment.”

Like a storm blowing out a candle, Stark’s face turns immediately grim. “Beg pardon?”

“Facial recognition picked him up eight blocks from his home building, moving slowly. Approximately nine minutes and thirty-four seconds ago, he entered an alleyway without any available security cameras. To my knowledge he has not yet emerged.”

Ben couldn’t say when exactly he got to his feet, but he suddenly finds himself standing next to Stark, hands clenched to keep from shaking. The other man meets his panicked gaze, and a flicker of understanding passes between them. “Show us, J.”

A holographic screen pops up. Footage plays. Ben barely pays any attention to Captain America stepping closer, too focused on the little figure helpfully highlighted by Jarvis.

(Peter isn’t even wearing shoes.)

“What, did he feel the need for a Delmar sandwich?” Stark grumbles, before the image zooms in. It becomes abruptly clear that Peter isn’t feeling suddenly better - his face is tight with desperation, mouth open to breathe, and every few steps he pauses to lean against a wall, eyes screwed shut. Ben feels a vice grip squeeze his heart, especially when his nephew staggers between two buildings, disappearing with his head down, arms tucked in close.

“Yeah, he’s not doing so hot,” the other man beside Captain America states.

“Understatement of the year, Wilson. Alright, everything else is on pause, I need to go get him-”

“I am faster.”

They all turn to stare at the boy still standing halfway behind Wanda. Even she looks surprised. “Pietro?”

He shrugs, a small nonchalant twitch, belied by the concern in his eyes. “I am faster. Show me a map from here to there, and I can pick him up without attracting attention.”

Ben glances at Stark. The celebrity offers back a flat smile, face carefully blank. “I mean, he’s not wrong. Speedy Gonzales here could probably run to the other end of Long Island and back in a couple of minutes.” There’s a moment’s hesitation, and then- “Your call, Mister Parker. He’s- your kid. First and foremost.”

...after a long, painful moment, Ben turns back towards Pietro. “Please.”

---

It feels like his life is just one big mistake after another.

Arguing with his uncle, distracting him at exactly the wrong moment, and paying for it with a funeral. Ignoring Mister Stark’s orders, almost causing all those people on the ferry to die. Not pushing harder to get a message through to Happy, almost allowing the plane to be stolen.

Grabbing the first two Infinity Stones to go flying past his face, in a room full of aliens trying to steal them and Avengers trying to protect them. Peter can still feel the burning in his hands, like catching a pair of electrified cables except dialed up to eleven, and every time he tries to take a deep breath it just gets worse. Not even the spider bite had caused him to hurt this much.

Wind whistles, short and sharp. A train going by- or maybe just a single car? No, wait, that didn’t make any sense-

“You are Peter, yes?”

Slowly, agonizingly, he manages to peel one eye partly open, and squints at the guy crouching in front of him. Familiar, but- not in the way that meant Peter had seen him somewhere before. “Y-yeah?”

“I am Pietro Maximoff,” the guy says. “Tony Stark and your uncle are upset you left home.”

Ah.

Well. On the one hand, Ben clearly made it to the Tower. On the other, Peter’s probably going to be in a lot of trouble for this. On the third- on a metaphorical third hand, Peter hurts. He can’t even bring himself to say so to this guy, Pietro- Maximoff, does that mean he’s related to Wanda- and instead whines, hands pressing tighter against his head.

“I am going to take you to them,” Pietro goes on. Peter lets his eye squeeze shut again, and jerks his head in a short, shallow nod. Hands carefully drag him out from his hiding place between two dumpsters, and then he’s being picked up, cradled close like a much younger kid. Normally he’d protest, insist that he’s sixteen- or thirteen- but honestly, Peter can’t bring himself to care.

There’s a distinct lurch, and a thousand sounds bombard his ears, horns and voices and wheels turning and doors opening and it’s way WAY too much too many too soon-

-and he checks out.

---

Ben doesn’t quite stare at his watch the entire time Pietro’s gone, but it’s a near thing. Steve Rogers takes a moment to introduce himself, along with Sam Wilson and Wanda Maximoff, but thankfully none of the Avengers try to force any strained small talk. Stark barely makes a sound at all - he keeps on staring at the blue-tinted holographic screens, eyes glued to the replaying clip of Peter stumbling into that alleyway.

It’s a relief when Pietro blurs back into existence in front of them, Ben’s actual physical nephew held securely in his arms.

But only for a split second.

Because Peter looks awful.

In the time since Ben left their family’s apartment, his kid has somehow managed to slide from pale to almost ghostly white, tremors wracking his entire body. He doesn’t react to Ben or Stark calling his name, eyes screwed shut and fists pressed hard against both ears, breathes coming short and shallow.

“Jarvis, vitals,” Stark orders, gesturing for Pietro to set his burden down on the nearest sofa. Peter whines when the young man lets go, but Ben slides right in, one hand carding through his nephew’s hair while the other presses flat against his scrawny chest. He doesn’t pay attention to whatever the AI relates to Stark; there’s just Peter, and his ragged breathing, and his pounding heart.

“Okay, kiddo,” Ben murmurs, soft but hopefully loud enough for the kid to hear. “We can make it through this, and you’re going to get better, if only so I can ground you until you’re eighteen.”

Peter’s next breath comes out more like a huff than a gasp, and one corner of his mouth turns up, just slightly.

“Only eighteen?” Stark leans a little over Ben’s shoulder, not quite intruding though it’s pretty clear he’d like to. “I’d make it twenty-five, at least.”

“M- Mis’er S’ark-”

“Hey, kid. Fancy seeing you here, when you should be tucked up at home in a nice warm bed. What’s the idea, huh, giving me and your poor uncle a matching pair of heart attacks?”

Peter coughs weakly, eyes still closed. “Wrote- wrong. Fuh-friday, not- Jarvis.”

Ben sees Stark stiffen in the corner of his eye, and holds back a sigh. “Friday’s the name of another AI?”

“Back-up for Jarvis,” Stark mutters. “I would’ve switched to her in a few days, if we were still following the original timeline.”

That manages to make Peter’s face scrunch up with confusion. “-what?”

“We all came back in time, kid. Whatever the hell you did with those Stones, they picked up every Avenger plus a few bonus people and tossed our minds back to the good old days before we’d even heard of Thanos. Possibly those Guardian idiots too, but we haven’t been able to make contact with them yet.”

“Oh,” Peter croaks, finally cracking his eyes open. “Good?”

Rather than answer, Stark sucks in a startled breath, and Ben feels his stomach swoop unpleasantly. From the abrupt silence behind them, where the others had been murmuring amongst themselves, he figures everybody’s equally stunned.

Peter’s eyes are glowing.

The kid just stares upward for a moment, obviously aware something’s wrong. “...Mister Stark? I don’t- feel so good.”

To Be Continued...

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

tips on how to land babes like lamb

i like how we're assuming there's other people like her out there. but i'll tell you what i did anyway.

my whole plan started by sending her anon asks every once in a while regarding random hannibal meta stuff and trying to understand her pattern of thought. so, i guess the first thing is

try to passively engage with them through their fandoms and understand how they approach certain philosophical dilemmas and thoughts.

since most of my asks were about hannigram, through them i tried my best to deduce what her angle to achieving an "ideal" relationship was (she tends to connect things to sexual energies and opposing forces but this could vary from person to person), so that i could approach her with a similar angle. so i guess the second thing could be

try to align your own thoughts to them, which ideally shouldn’t be difficult since the "babe" you’re trying to "land" would probably only be attractive to you because your philosophies match. if not, try somewhere else.

after that she kinda served me my one chance on a silver platter and ofc i was waiting for this so i took it. when she started the polls i basically reblogged every single one that i could. that was when i familiarized myself with how i could approach her actively. and ik that wouldn't be possible for everyone so the other thing i'd suggest is that

actively approach them once you've learned how they react to certain elements of their favourite media i.e. how they go about metaing within their fandom, through reblogs MAJORLY. this is where you like HAVE to be confident or you're gonna cobweb your ass to the anon asks FOREVER.

another thing that could definitely be a real plus is if your "babe" is into something niche and you do have the ability and time and energy to engage with that particular thing DO IT. and if they post/rb about it, you post and rb about it. that shit helps AND you acquire culture.

last thing i'd suggest is try not to be a creep and PLEASE be subtle and respectful that is by far the most important thing. let your "babe" initiate personal conversation and a healthy amount of possessiveness once y'all are an item ain’t hurtin' nobody.

if you've got any follow up questions anon i'll be willing to attend to those as well.

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

2023 Fic Round Up (Part 2: Fic Quotes)

For favorite lines, I tried to choose quotes that may have less visibility—maybe they haven't made it into a tumblr post or the summary, but I love them all the same. To make this easier for myself, I'm limiting this to quotes from my three published works that I'm the most proud of, plus the two WIPs that I've worked on the most recently.

Presented in reverse chronological order, I present fic quotes:

Unnamed Porn Star x Filmmaker AU

I literally wrote both of these as I outlined two days ago, so they have not reached their Final Form. Also, Smut Warning.

Alex is jealous of the wax. An inanimate object. For being spread across another man’s body. He’s pretty sure he’s completely lost his mind.

Moments later, Henry comes all over Basil’s hand as he uses it to stroke Henry, coating the deep blue wax that’s slowly hardening on his dick. A completely fucking mess. Alex wants to get his mouth on it.

Honey, You're Familiar (From My Mirror Years Ago) aka the Dads Fic

I've shared a lot of my favorites, but I don't know if I've shared this—pretty prose has never been a strength of mine, so I'm pretty proud of this:

June glances up at Henry, studying him for a moment. He wonders what she sees, if she can tell that he’s a crystal vase filled with a bouquet of emotions—absolutely transparent and if nudged too hard, the carefully crafted container might just crack apart, contents spilling out, shattering all remnants of what might have once been construed as beautiful.  An unavoidable mess. The hyacinths, taking up most of the space, for regret and remorse. Tulips, a bit hopeful, for forgiveness. Purple lilac, stubbornly wedged in the mix from the first moment Alex flashed his smile at Henry, for love at first sight. He thinks maybe June does catch a glimpse of the blossoms, because the next thing he knows, her eyes face softens a bit, and she’s turning back to face her cousins with her hand pressed against Henry’s back. It’s not the touch of the Claremont-Díaz sibling he craves, but it still settles him somehow, even before she speaks.

(Dil)Do It Yourself 

Chapter 1

“Pez, like the candy?” Alex blurts out. He doesn’t have much of a filter on a good day, but hot people make his porous coffee filter turn into a goddamn colander.

Also Chapter 1

"If I find that you have somehow managed to muck it up, how should I plan to contact you?” Alex grins back at Henry. He has no fucking clue why this British elf who speaks like a Victorian orphan and looks like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein photoshoot has him thinking about getting a second apartment key made, but here he is. Mentally googling routes to his nearest hardware store. “Well, usually, when it’s for business I just give out my fax,” he drawls, unable to contain his smile as he gets to the second half of his sentence. “But since I’m fairly interested in mixing this with pleasure, I guess I can share my cell number.”

Soft stuff before the less soft stuff in Chapter 3

What he’s absolutely not prepared for is the look on Henry’s face when he spots Alex entering the shop—like Alex just saved babies from a burning building or cured cancer or something. It’s way too fucking much when Henry doesn’t even know about Alex’s coffee addiction or the way he incessantly taps his foot when he’s focused or how Alex accidentally interrupts people when he starts getting really passionate in a debate. Maybe Alex can accept that Henry’s into his jokes or his smile or his dick. But basically, Henry hasn’t learned about all the other stuff that comes with spending an extended period of time around Alex. He’s not getting his hopes up. Except when Henry smiles, and softly greets him with “I missed you,” Alex absolutely gets his hopes up.

Claremont 2008 

Both of these are from the final chapter of the fic:

Henry’s sitting at his desk, a heavily annotated Norton’s Anthology of Poetry propped open to his left, a notebook full of beautiful, neat cursive laid open to his right. The soft glow of his lamp warms the small space, coupled with the changing light from the window as the early sunset fills the room with an orangey light that makes Henry appear golden, like he’s been blessed by Apollo, or Helios, or some other sun god.

Finally arriving at their door, Henry unlocks it for the first time, the movers having finished up while the two of them went over to pick up a nametag for their new roommate. After taking a few steps down the hall, they enter into a cozy living room already filled with both their book collections and their family photos all jumbled together. The Lightning Thief sits next to Pride and Prejudice like they’re two puzzle pieces aligning, a photo of Henry and Arthur on a sailboat hangs next to one of Alex sitting on his abuela’s lap: two homes side by side. 

Freaky Friday (I woke up in my enemy's body) 

Alex waxing poetic about Shaan's ass

“You can, er , go,” Alex directs him, though it comes out like more of a question. Apparently it was effective enough, though, because the guy exits, and the phrase “hate to see you go, love to watch you leave” pops into his mind when he gets a view of his ass strutting out of the room in that suit.

The Great Dick Soliloquy

Eventually, and to Alex’s great shame, he gives in. He just has to know, okay? It’ll just be a brief glimpse, he assures himself. Alex is not kidding when he says that he took one glance at Henry’s dick and it changed his life. He really did intend on it being a brief glimpse.

Thank you to @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @firenati0n @anincompletelist for the tags!

Sorry if I missed one of y'all doing this, tagging @littlemisskittentoes @ssmtskw @affectionatelyrs @read-and-write- @matherines @rockyroadkylers!

To see all my 2023 fics in Part 1, click here.

[stick-ball]

I WAS LOOKING FOR A JEREMY BPD/ANGER ISSUES POST I THOUGJT I HAD SEEN THIS MORNING PLEASE WRITE YOUR HEADCANNONS AGAIN I BEG OF YOU GIVE JEREMY KNOX THE LOVE HE DESERVES

Okay so this is long overdue, but might as well. I guess this is an observation of fandom Jeremy as much as the canon one, so don't come at me.

I dunno read Jeremy as having BPD bcs... bcs honestly have you ever met anyone who has Sunshine shining from their ass? Me neither. Though I have met ppl with severe personality issues who had a coping mechanism like that, of course they weren't young and talented sportsmen looked up to by many ppl and rooted for by many, so they had enough free space and privacy to go absolutely fucked up at other ppl when they were having bad brain hours.

Yes im including myself here.

The name of the game is If I Give Them No Reason to Leave Me They Won't.

Or If I Give Them No Things To Hate Me For They Won't Hurt me.

But spice it up with black and white thinking, paranoia and unhelathy behaviours jumping off the standard spectrum of bottling things out into like, going on a 4 hour run to cool off bcs you are undeserving bcs you are a bad captain bcs you're annoyed at the freshmen bcs they dont care about your shared goals enough and is thay really a them issue? Or is it actually a You issue? Are you blaming others for your own failures again? Look at yourself, you're fucking pathetic, and egoistic at that, you demand things from others but how do you show you care for what others need huh? You think you're a good captain? Keep telling yourself that, before you know it they will all turn against you. Because you're a failure, bcs you cant even make them care? Maybe you're just not a good enough player , or maybe they can see straight through you, see what you are udnerneath the happy exterior. Yo have just not good enough, not trying hard enough, and you want them to look up to.. to That???

Or maybe it is a them issue bcs fuck that, fuck the smiling, fuck the caring, you don't actually care, if they don't care, why would you? 🤔 you don't owe anyone anything you are so done with everyone and everything cant they LEAVE YOU THE FUCK ALONE, HAVENT YOU DONE ENOUGH TO HAVE AT LEAST ONE SMALL THING GO RIGHT ONCE? YOU ARE SO FUCKKNG ANGRY so you have to do something you feel like smashing something, you could, your body is literally a machine, you could show them what you actually think about their Opinions, how pathetic and annoying they are and actually fuck that you have to leave you cant stand being in the same room as them for one second longer.

But the sunshine Jeremy 🌞 exterior slips on so even though you want to crash the doors closed you smile and wave and say something stupid and cheery you even have a fucking spring in your step.

Bcs you're a fucking liar a fucking impostor you can't help it at this point you are a clay figurine that's hollowed out inside.

You are so tired it's like there's a lump of cloth absolutely soaked weighting on your lungs

You actually feel like crying while you wave at alvarez from the stretch of the corridor, making goddamn plans to meet up for group studying maths later in the evening while your lungs constrict holding down a sob.

You hate them all for the next 3 hours.

And then on hour four while you're circling the campus heading back from your walk/jog/run/staring into the distance/jog again you tap into the very comfortable very familiar hating of yourself.

This is a light version of course but I bet Jeremy is that person that dissapears sometimes like at parties ect bcs they are doing some absolutely stupid shit like having sex with a complete stranger or getting drunk but they know enough about the emptiness and self hatred they will feel ten minutes after they succumb to thay behaviour that they learned to do it when the judgment of the ppl who know them won't touch this piece of him. Bcs it feels like a separate piece.

Like he is parcelled into different breeds of fucked up inside and they are all set on a loop in a music playing machine from a highway diner. One song ends another starts you can choose which one if you throw in a dime.

And also we gotta add in the sensory issues, he sees things, he hears them, sometimes he does a dodge while there's nothing coming bcs he thought it was. Some weeks it feels almost he lives from one training to the next bcs he doesn't remember a minute from what's in between. Good thing he taught himself this sunny persona bcs its an autopilot mode that gets him having to answer the least amount of questions when he doesn't fucking remember what happened from 8 am till late afternoon that day.

[jasperisabisexualmess]

Royal

Summary: You were separated from your childhood crush and meet again.

Warnings: Y/n is technically a criminal, bloody Y/n, Wanda is a little scary, not that i'm complaining, I don't really know what else to put, let me know if I missed something.

A/n: I wrote this a long time ago so it might be trash. I don't really remember so might as well post it.

The Scarlet Queen, the Queen, and the Scarlet Witch were the only titles you could use to describe the queen of Sokovia. The once small but cozy town that had become the biggest powerhouse kingdom to exist. 

It was all because of one woman, The Scarlet Witch, no one knew her real name. I did though. I knew her in elementary school. It was a rich private school which my father worked at. We were friends until 8th grade when her father died and she had to leave school and become queen. I admit I might have had some other feelings for her but I ignored them. When she made the rule that she was only to be addressed by her titles I made sure that I never slipped up while talking about her. When I was in 9th grade my father got this disease and passed away. I no longer could stay at the school and had to provide for myself so I started a life of pick-pocketing. I felt awful and would never take more than I needed but it was the only way to survive. 

One fateful day I picked the wrong pocket.

I was looking around for someone to pickpocket when I saw a tall guy that looked like he made some money. So when I passed him I reached in his pocket and pulled out some coins and started to walk away. When he yelled,”Come back here you pickpocketer.” He started to chase me so I ran. He then caught up to me and threw me to the floor. He yanked my hair back and asked,” Do you know who I am.”. I shook my head. He then angrily said, “I am the captain of the guard.”. I finally realized how bad I fucked up. Rule 12 states that If you steal from someone that has a lot of power you can be sentenced to death. “Wait, please sir.” I pleaded. “You better not say a word till I say you can.” He said. I agreed and followed him. He grabbed a couple of horses and they started riding with me connected to the ends of the horses. I was covered in mud and dirt which was probably from before to. He then took me to a huge courtroom thing with paintings all over the wall. He threw me to the middle of the floor and said to wait till the judge comes to huddle this. Apparently the royalitie type people have their own judge. Who? I didn’t know. 

I just stared at the floor till I heard a loud voice that was sort of familiar but rough and stern,” You can face the court now.”. I looked up to see my childhood best friend, The Queen, in charge. She continued on and didn’t recognize me, “State your name.” She sternly said. Everyone was staring at me but I didn’t know what to say. She looked more angry, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”. I then said as loud as I could without coming off as rude, “Y/n Y/l/n”. Her face faltered for a second and she then quickly yelled, “Everyone leave.” As the captain went to grab me she angrily yelled, “NOT HER”. He quickly scurried. She ran down to me as fast as possible, ran down to me and hugged me.  I said, barely able to breath, “I’m a little dirty and bloody.”. She still didn’t let go until 30 seconds after. “What happened to you?” She said, “Wow, still straight to the point.”. She looked at me with concern. I answered her question with,” Life I guess.”. She didn't push further but just said,'' You need a bath come on.``. I followed her to a washroom with a fancy marble tub already filled with hot water. “Here is a towel and there is some fresh clothes in that drawer. Then we can talk.”

A/n: To be continued?