#Nicole was closer to her mom

[micechicken]

Nicole's older sister and mother of Rosie, Marilyn.

[p-0-p-3]

[aceyalonso]

i - you are beautiful, melbourne

chapter summary : your mother meets her high school best friend and decides to join their family for dinner, you seem to be getting with her daughters. can't say the same with her son though.

alternative summary : oscar just ignores y/n cause she's a stranger

warnings : none (i think)

word count : 958

a/n : barely any oscar in this one (the song is just for the vibes tbh)

song : lost - frank ocean

The sun was setting over the Melbourne skyline, casting a warm glow across the city. y/n walked through the park, she and her brother walking before their parents. Suddenly, her mom called out, "Is that… Nicole?"

Looking up from her brother to see what had grasped her mother's attention, y/n realized a family of six walking closer to them. As they drew closer, y/n noticed the older woman's smile get larger. Y/n and her brother pause, with an almost identical face of confusion painting their faces. Y/n looks over to her father who is equally as confused, he shrugs as if telling them "I don't know them too"

She tilts her head to get a better glimpse of the family. Y/n feels a tug on her sleeve, kneeling to her brother's height before he whispers in her ear. "Y/n… is she mama's friend?" She smiles, "I think so Gabby, you want to say hi?" Gabriel lets out a deep breath, before nodding hesitantly.

Y/n and her brother walked up to the other family, closely followed by their father standing beside her mother. The families stopped in front of each other, and with a smile that spanned from ear to ear, Y/n's mother greeted the other woman first. "Nicole! I can't believe we bumped into you like this! It's been too long!"

As my mother hugs Nicole, I feel a pang of nervousness as she pulls me and my brother closer to her. As my gaze drifts towards her children, I observe their awkwardness and whispers. "They're just as confused as I am," I think to myself.

My mother puts her arm around me, drawing us closer. "These are my kids," she says with a smile, the introduction making us seem even more out of place. "This is y/n, and this little one right here is Gabriel." Gabriel meekly mumbles "Hello" and I smile, greeting her. "It's nice to meet you, Auntie Nicole."

Nicole pulls me into a tight hug "It's nice to meet you too, dear." She smiles, pulling away and putting her attention towards my mom. "This is my eldest and only boy, Oscar," she says looking at him. "I think he's around your age, y/n!" she adds. I only smile and nod in response, looking over to Oscar. His face remains stoic and unamused. "wow, not even a hi?" I say in under my breath

Shortly after Nicole introduces all her children Gabriel tugs on my sleeve, "I'm hungry..." he says loud enough for me, my mom, and Nicole to hear. "We were just about to grab dinner, do you guys want to tag along? Your little one seems to be hungry, y/m/n." Nicole says with a bright smile on her face

I see Mom look over to Dad as if asking for approval. Dad nods and Mom agrees enthusiastically, "Yeah sure, we'd love to Nicole!" Nicole only smiles interlocking her arms with my mother. My parents walked ahead with Nicole, deeply engaged in conversation. My brother and I silently followed, with Oscar Edie, May, and Hattie behind us. There was an aura of discomfort and awkwardness surrounding us. I focus on the pavement, trying to avoid eye contact with any of Auntie Nicole's children.

The two families were seated at a large table in a bustling restaurant, the noise of conversation, playful banter, and clinking silverware filling the air. Y/n sat beside her brother, her gaze occasionally shifting to Oscar who was seated between his mother and his sister Edie. The adults were engaged in their conversation, leaving the children to make small talk with each other.

Y/n glances over to May who is sitting to her left. Feeling the to need break the awkward silence, Y/n clears her throat and asks, "So... do you guys come here often?"

May looks up, surprised by the question. "No, not really," she replies "but mom really loves this place. She says the food is really good."

Y/n looks around the restaurant, taking in the decor and atmosphere "This is my first time here," she admits. May turns her head, facing Y/n, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh really? What did you order then?" May suddenly asks. "Oh uh.." Y/n mumbles, grabbing the menu. "This one... the Farfalle with pesto sauce."

As if on queue, the food arrives. The waiter places Y/n's plate of pasta in front of her. She whispers a quiet "thank you" before placing a table napkin on her lap. Y/n takes a bite of her pasta, savoring the taste "Oh wow. This is really good," she says in between bites. May nods in agreement, taking a sip of iced tea. "Yeah, I think that's one of their specialties here!"

The two girls continued to chat, discussing everything and anything that came to mind. Despite the initial awkwardness, Y/n found herself enjoying May's company and the conversation felt comfortable and natural. It's safe to say that by the end of the night, she gained a new friend.

As May and Y/n continued chatting and enjoying their food, the parents' conversation in the background suddenly caught their attention. Y/n overhears her mom talking to Nicole about their plans for the summer.

Y/n's mother explains, " I want you and your entire family to spend the summer with us- In Italy. We have plenty of room for everyone, and I think it'll be a great chance for the kids to get along" Nicole nods eagerly, "Sounds great, doesn't it Tim?" Nicole asks her husband. He nods, taking a bite out of his steak.

"Count us in," Nicole says with a smile. Y/n's mom beams with joy, relieved and excited that Nicole has agreed. "That's fantastic! I'll take care of all the expenses. Think of it as a treat for me not reaching out in the past." Nicole nods, still smiling from ear to ear. "We can't wait."

yn.jpg 📍Melbourne, Australia

liked by may.piastri, sienna_cresenzo, and 1,437 others yn.jpg you are beautiful, melbourne. (i made a new friend?!) tagged may.piastri

may.piastri i'm so sad we didn't meet sooner :( ↳ yn.jpg me too may :( but dw we'll still see each other this summer!!! ↳ may.piastri can't wait to visit italy for the first time liked by yn.jpg

username81 cuties! 💗

sienna_cresenzo pls tell me you're going to italy this summer🥲 miss you so much girl liked by yn.jpg ↳ yn.jpg ofc i will!! i miss you too 🫶

series masterlist | next

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: your mother had warned you. Don't let them know, she'd said, her nails digging angry crescents into the flesh of your upper arms, eyes wild and imploring, don't let them know you can see. you'd listened, all these years, you'd lived your life by that rule. until you couldn't.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.1

Like most things, it started with a look.

A boy. A girl. A crowded place; a friend talking—their voice muted as if heard through a motel wall. Time slows. People filter in and out of the space between, chatting, laughing, in frame just long enough to emphasize the weight behind something that, in any other context, would be utterly unimportant.

Simon had urged you outside at lunch, pulled you away from your table, tone frayed in desperation as he interrogated you about things you're certain you'd made seem the expression of a morbidly quirky imagination.

"Well," He said, like jabbing the eraser-end of a pencil into your sternum, "Can you?"

You hesitated, gaze lifting away from his to skirt the middle-distance behind him.

And then—

It happened molasses-slow. Your eyes caught his; lingered a beat too long to be played off as anything other than what it was. Acknowledgment.

Those sweet-sultry cow eyes widened a fraction.

Oh no.

Then time rushed back in and snapped into the correct rhythm. You didn't have a chance to process what had just happened because Simon sighed with the weight of the world, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling. Quickly, you arranged your expression into something slightly put-off.

"Si, what are you talking about?"

Simon groaned and took a few steps back then forward again. He reminded you of a caged animal being forced to perform. Lately, his mannerisms had been erratic, a little unhinged. You'd caught him talking to himself a couple of times, in classrooms or the cafeteria. The last couple of days he'd been glued to his phone, taking spontaneous calls that he'd never received before. Initially, you'd assumed he was in touch with Maddie; the only one she'd trusted enough to keep in the loop. However, the more you'd observed, the more you'd doubted the assumption.

You'd watched him unravel from a distance, of course. Nicole had turned inward, Simon was bursting at the seams, and you, as the casual friend with a life separate to theirs, stayed away out of a sense of insecurity.

You and Maddie hadn't been as close as she and Simon and Nicole. You shared interests in the macabre and spooky, but that's where it ended. Event Buddies who became familiar through exposure, lacking that profound connection that would give you a reason to call about something other than the next horror film release date.

You didn't feel right about asking to share their grief. It felt intrusive.

Simon paced the length of the bus shelter once more before stopping in front of you. He was clearly nervous, frustrated, avoiding your gaze for a second while he collected his thoughts.

Finally, he took a deep breath, glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and said, low and secret, "You talked about the ghosts here—" You folded your arms and tilted your head in what you hoped came across as confused. "—Last year," Simon grabbed your arm and pulled you in closer when a group of younger girls walked by, "Last year, you told us about the crush you had on your mom's dead boyfriend, remember? The guy who died during the '83 homecoming game?"

"They never dated." You corrected, fighting the urge to chew your lip. A giveaway that you were about to choose your words very carefully. "But, look, Simon, I talked about that stuff because I thought it was fun. Not because I can commune with the dead."

"But your mom—"

"Is a fraud and you know it." Then you frowned, genuinely intrigued, "What's going on?"

Simon shot you a dazed look, "Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly into this Sixth Sense shit? You've never believed in it before. A stance you've made very clear you take." Every time you joked about reaching out to the Other Side, Simon would scoff and roast you endlessly. Something that you found endearing. Like a prickly inside joke. It was your thing.

Suddenly, Simon got that look on his face, the one he got in class when your teachers outlined your homework. As if he were listening to someone. Except there was no one else close enough to hear.

The silence stretched into a thin static between you until, at last, Simon said, "Never mind." He sounded equal parts defeated and aggravated.

Taking a cautious step forward, you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Maddie, Si, I—" Have no idea how to put into words how fucked up it all is, "—I wish there was something, anything, I could do to help."

Simon pressed his lips together and nodded. From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching the bus shelter. Tall, broad, donning the unmistakable colors of the Split River Bandits, née Devils. You had to get out of there before you irrevocably fucked up and found yourself at the center of what your mother warned you would be a swarm.

"Look," You dropped your hand to Simon's, squeezing supportively. You might not have been able to tell the whole truth but you could try to offer some comfort. Whether or not he believed you was up to him. "Maddie's okay, Simon. Wherever she is. Whatever happened to her..." You paused, considering your next words, "She can't be so far gone that we won't get her back."

You said it with all the conviction you had in you, believed it to your core.

You'd seen the beatnik with her lollipops, the shy boy with the glasses; you'd seen the young man in the outdated suit, and the modest, Sally Olsson lookalike, and the girl with the daydream eyes. You'd seen the myspace emo punk, the lanky autoshop geek, the dark-skinned disco queen; the marching band, and the theater kid...and him. The charming, high-on-life football star currently stood outside the bus shelter, his hands cupped around his eyes as he peeked through the glass against the glare of the sun.

You hadn't seen Maddie. Not a glimmer or a shadow or the impression that she'd been and gone. Nothing. And you'd done your due diligence as soon as you'd heard about the blood in the boiler room. You'd scoured the town after dark, before school, whenever you could get away without raising suspicion. Her old haunts and favorite places had been empty.

Minus a couple of exceptions, but they hadn't been Maddie, so you didn't see the harm in continuing to keep the truth from Simon.

"Yeah." Simon said. He didn't sound convinced. "Thanks. For that."

You deflated, released his hand with an affirming squeeze, and made your excuse, "I gotta get ready for next period."

He didn't meet your eyes, simply pulled his phone out and put it to his ear. "See you later." The smile he gave you was tight, quick, insincere.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned and exited the bus shelter, tall dark 'n' handsome keeping pace as you made your way back into the school, his gaze a warm weight on the side of your face.

All you had to do was pretend he wasn't there. You'd done it countless times in the past, were well-versed in how to cover your mistakes.

You stopped briefly, reached out to open the door, and in that second, you felt a tingle up your spine and the closeness of a body behind you. His voice, a gentle rumble, spoke directly into your ear, the parody of soft breath tickling the hairs on your neck.

"I know you can see me."

You forced yourself not to react, perhaps stood a second too long before yanking the door open and marching inside, but you kept your eyes forward, and relaxed your jaw and shoulders. To the students milling about the hall, you were the picture of normal.

"Do what you want but I'm not going anywhere until you admit it." He said lightly, a step behind you as you maneuvered toward your locker.

Once again, you had to stop, twisting in the combination to open your lock. You fumbled, missing a number, had to start again. He leaned his shoulder against the locker beside yours, watched you through his lashes, a smirk pulling one side of his mouth upward.

You'd always been attracted to him. Had to suppress the urge to stare at him when he appeared in the same classroom or hallway you happened to be in. Having him interact with you, intentionally, made your heart quicken and the ability to think critically dissolve.

Oh God, not again...

Your brain fired a thousand synapses in every direction as you willed yourself to hurry before you accidentally did something stupid; steadied your hand to input the combination correctly. You tugged the lock. It stayed stubbornly latched. And then he leaned in, too close, the tip of his nose practically grazing your temple.

"You missed the 3."

The air was syrupy thick, fuzzy. In an effort to concentrate, you closed your eyes, repeating a mantra your mother had taught you to center yourself.

You sensed his body shift, tilted further toward you like a bracket, then the sensation of blunt nails traveling up up up your back, catching in the material of your shirt as if the touch were real. Goosebumps erupted over your arms, your breath hitched, and you found your head slanting in his direction.

Fuck. You needed to—BANG—Jesus Christ!

Your eyes snapped open at the abrupt noise, your friend cackling wickedly as she took in your shock.

"Hey, silly." Mathilda Grace—of The Split River Graces, not that she'd ever say it like that—grinned proudly at the reaction she'd gotten out of you. "You ready to fail this test with me?"

You could still feel him hovering, but it seemed he'd put an appropriate amount of distance between you. Shaking your head to clear the last of the muzziness from a moment ago, you plastered on your most natural smile and responded, "Let's go disappoint our parents."

You managed to undo the lock and grab the right textbooks, transferring what you didn't need from your bag into your locker while Mathilda regaled you with what you'd missed after Simon had dragged you outside.

"What did he want, anyway?" Mathilda asked, more concerned than curious.

"To talk about Maddie." You replied as close to the truth as you dared. It had the added benefit of making Mathilda feel awkward enough to change the subject immediately.

"K, c'mon, bell's about to go and I need to grab my book, too."

Shutting and locking your locker, you chanced a sideways glance and were relieved to find that it was just you and Mathilda and the regular stream of other alive-and-well students making their way to their next class.

Still, as you and Mathilda walked toward Ms. Fields' class, you felt the tingle of his gaze on the back of your neck.

The next couple of days would be white-knuckle hard, but you'd dealt with it before and could do it again. Had to do it again.

What you didn't anticipate—and probably should've, given what you knew about him—was Wally Clark's steadfast determination and his refusal to let sleeping dogs lie for a second time.

💀___________________________

PART TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[thelostconsultant]

Take what you want

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: Oscar shows up to surprise you, then drags you into a relationship that's everything but healthy.

warnings: dark!Oscar, toxic relationship

note: This is probably my last F1 fic, so this is my baby. Be gentle with it, please.

Since Nicole and your mom had been best friends since childhood, she was almost like your aunt, just as your mother was in the same position for her children. This meant barbeque parties on the weekends, big, chaotic Christmas and New Year celebrations, and other freetime activities that lately involved watch parties when Oscar’s race took place at a reasonable time. It was fun, really, like having a big extended family you could always rely on. 

You and Oscar were close in age, and while you were closer friends with his sister, Hattie, the two of you also got along pretty well. He tried to keep in touch despite his chaotic schedule, keeping up a channel for the both of you to vent, because you had both promised to keep whatever you discussed between yourselves. There were things he needed to discuss with someone, sometimes specifically with a woman, and he couldn’t trust his sisters to keep it to themselves. And if one of his sisters told the others, his mom would find out in less than five minutes too. 

Earlier this year he had broken up with his girlfriend, a girl whose existence was kept a secret even in front of his family despite the relationship lasting for a few months, and it hit him really hard when she announced that she was breaking things off. It took long hours of conversations over the phone, and a bunch of messages to help him move on. But then he got better, and he disappeared as the season continued, and you didn’t really notice, because you were just about to finish your studies at university. 

These days you just sent each other memes every now and then, only exchanging a few sentences before disappearing from each other’s lives again. So, when the idea for a graduation party came up, you didn’t even think about inviting him. He lived on the other side of the world, so even if he wasn’t racing that weekend, there was no way he would come. Knowing he thought you weren’t good enough friends anymore for you to consider inviting him felt like a stab in the heart. You should have sent him a message at least, just out of courtesy. 

Today you were planning to avert your thoughts from the conversation that had been plaguing your days, hoping that focusing on something else could make you feel free again. You still had a few weeks until you started your first full time job, so you wanted to enjoy your free time, so when your mom mentioned some new, fancy restaurant that she wanted to try out and secretly reserved a table to months ago, you couldn’t say no. Your dad didn’t like these places, but you did, so you put on an elegant black jumpsuit and did your hair and makeup with an excited smile on your face. 

Even though you offered to pick her up in your old home, she chose to meet you at the restaurant since she had to take care of something first and there was a chance she would be late. Wouldn’t want to lose our table, she said. So, you went there telling the host her name when he asked you if you had a reservation for the evening. There was a strange gleam in his eyes when he heard the name, but it disappeared as quickly as it showed up, that’s why you weren’t really sure if it was really there in the first place. He took you to your table, but when he pointed at the one, you saw someone already sitting there, a man whose face you couldn’t see. 

Hesitantly, but you walked over to the empty chair across from him, your heart pounding in your chest. But when you saw his face, your breath caught in your throat. “Oscar? What–?” you asked, so confused that you weren’t even sure what to ask. 

He flashed a small smile at you, then stood up and rushed over to help you with your chair. While your eyes followed his every move as you waited for an explanation, he remained silent even after taking his seat again. It was only after a waiter came over and poured you both a glass of wine before taking your orders that he leaned back in his chair and truly looked at you. “It didn’t feel good when you said you couldn’t count on me. We had a break at the time, I could have flown here,” he said with his usual flat tone, although you could see the emotions in his eyes. 

After all those years, you knew it meant he was hurt, and it made you feel like shit. “It would have been a waste of time to fly here for one night,” you said quietly as you reached for your glass. 

He leaned forward and rested his forearm on the middle of the table, his palm open as an invitation for you to take his hand. For a few seconds your gaze shifted back and forth between his hand and his face, but then you decided not to play along. There was a voice in the back of your mind telling you not to fall for this trap–because you had a feeling it was some sort of a trap. It was just so strange that he hadn’t contacted you or asked about you for weeks, and then all of a sudden he just showed up here. Maybe your mothers conspired again. 

With a sigh, Oscar pulled back his hand and wrapped his fingers around his glass instead. “I don’t understand you,” he noted, and his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “I thought we were friends, yet you didn’t tell me about your graduation party and apparently you seriously think I wouldn’t want to be here to celebrate with you.”

“Your life is so different now, attending some stupid party back home is probably not all that exciting,” you finally admitted after a break, immediately feeling guilty when you noticed his reaction. It was barely there, but you knew how to see and decode even the smallest changes in his expression. “Look, this place is really nice, and I'm glad to see you, but why are we here?” you asked him cautiously.

He took a deep breath as he finally tore his gaze away from you. “I just wanted to see you. When Hattie told me how awesome your party was, I felt left out, and then I realized I didn't even think of asking you how things went at university, even though I knew this was your last semester,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. 

“It's okay, you have more important things to think about,” you assured him, even though you did feel a little bad when he forgot to ask about your life when you talked. 

Oscar looked back at you, meeting your gaze again. There was something, maybe guilt that poisoned his usually calm eyes. “Is that really where we got to over the last few years? I don't want you to think you're not important, and I don't want to be an outsider when it comes to your life.”

You wanted to be the smart one, you wanted to be better than this, but the thought that had been on your mind for a long time now inevitably slipped out. This was the sour truth, the only thing that kept returning to you every time you happened to talk.

“I'm the outsider when it comes to your life, Oscar, and I'll always be. Maybe you'll know about what's going on with me, but you barely tell me anything important, and I highly doubt this will change in the future. Your secret girlfriend was pretty much the only thing you told me honestly, everything else was just some sort of inconvenience that bothered you,” you blurted out.

A grimace was the only reaction while he listened to you, and maybe, if you weren't imagining things, his hands gripped the glass a little tighter now. That was something you didn't like about Oscar, the way he could keep his cool even when normal people would be already making a scene. But here he was, sitting there in silence as he carefully tasted your words.

The waiter returned with your orders, and his eyes moved back and forth between you for a second, probably sensing the tension between the two of you. He placed the plates in front of you with an apologetic smile, then scurried away, giving you some privacy. The moment you were left alone, your friend leaned forward and licked his lips as his eyes burned a hole into your head.

“My mum mentioned that you're going to start your new job in a few weeks,” he began, waiting for you to confirm it, which you did with a nod. “Tell them you're not going. Tell them you can't go, then come to Monaco with me. You’re right, maybe I did keep you away from my life lately, so let me change that.”

Your first reaction was to laugh and shake your head as you reached for your glass and took a sip of your wine. With his usual poker face, Oscar slightly raised an eyebrow, as if asking what was so funny about this. What? Well, the whole thing, you didn’t even understand how he could think it could work. “I have absolutely no idea how you came up with this, but as nice as it sounds, my answer is no. I want that job, and when I hinted at not being such good friends anymore, I meant more phone calls and messages, not trips together,” you explained.

A long sigh left him as he shook his head. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you away, let me fix it,” he tried.

Looking down at your delicious-looking meal, you had to realize that you weren’t even hungry anymore. What would be the point in forcing food down your throat when you wanted to throw up? So, you pushed your chair back and stood up, not missing the questioning look he sent your way as you grabbed your bag. “I have a feeling we would spend the rest of the evening arguing, and I don’t feel like doing that, because I still consider you a friend, so thank you for everything, but I’ll just go home now. Have a nice evening.”

When you tried to walk past him, he reached out and caught your wrist to stop you. “Don’t do this,” he said calmly, but you pulled your arm out of his grasp. When he realized you were serious about leaving, he let out a groan, then stood up and let his lips crash into yours in a kiss that knocked every coherent thought out of your head. He only pulled away long enough to breathe, resting his forehead against yours as his eyes were locked with yours. “I wanted to wait with this, but you didn’t leave me a choice,” he informed you, the hint of a smile visible on his lips.

The fact Oscar, the very guy who’s been incredibly secretive when it came to his private life, kissed you in front of all these people truly confused you. And he kissed you. He had never shown any sign of seeing you as something other than a friend he grew up with. Yet here you were, his palm resting on your cheek, thumb gently rubbing your soft skin as he waited for your reaction. But you were still speechless, you had no idea what to say. Not until you suddenly remembered an important little detail.

“I’m just about to go on a first date with this really nice guy I met a few days ago, I can’t do this to him,” you told him softly, your fingers curling around his hand to pull it away from your face.

He scoffed, looking anything but pleased with your reaction. “You haven’t even been on a first date with him. Come on, let tonight be our first date. I just don’t want you to say no, then realize you should have agreed when it’s too late.”

Gulping, you thought about his words. And if it didn’t work? If you went on a date, and it would be disastrous, and the two of you couldn’t even talk to each other anymore? “I’d rather keep you as a friend and not risk losing what we have,” you told him after some thinking.

Long seconds passed with his eyes fixed on you, the fact the gears were rapidly turning in his head as he thought being quite obvious. Shaking his head in the end, he picked up his phone and took your hand, dragging you with him as he quickly paid for the untouched dinner then headed to the exit. Your mind was full of question marks, you had absolutely no idea what he was planning, but you didn’t want to make a scene. You were taken to a car that parked nearby, and he opened the door for you so you could get in, but you hesitated.

“Come on, get in,” he said, his voice stern and making it sound like an order. You had never heard him speak to you like that, and it made you worried that maybe there was a side of him that you never had the chance to meet. And if he was like that, you didn’t even want to meet him. You’d rather keep the sweet guy imagine in your head. “Please, just get in. I’ll take you home,” he tried again, his voice hitting a gentler tone this time.

“You know, tonight was actually pretty good for something,” you began, earning a surprised look from him. “You changed, Oscar, and I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, after all it’s only natural for our personalities to change over time, but I don’t really recognize you anymore.”

When you pried his hand off you, he looked at you with the same emotionless face, and this time even his eyes remained neutral. You had absolutely no idea what was going through his head, but then he shut the door he had been leaning on, then walked to the other side of the car. “Yeah, well, you changed too,” he told you before getting in and starting the engine and driving off.

Following the disastrous dinner attempt you sent your mother a message to tell her you would jump in the next day to discuss a few things. All she wrote back was Oscar’s name with a question mark, and you sent her an angry emoji in response. You were a little mad at your mother for not giving you the heads up, for putting you into the position of meeting him in a restaurant full of people after all that time, but deep down you knew she meant well. Right now, you just wanted to tell her how badly things went and ask her not to do this again in the future.

The two of you were sitting in the dining room, drinking coffee and eating some cookies she made that morning, and you didn’t even know where to begin. But then you let out a sigh and said, “It wasn’t fun, mom. I was expecting to see you, and then he was there, and our conversations had been really awkward lately, so yeah, you can imagine how happy that chat was.”

She reached out to wrap his fingers around your forearm in a supportive way. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. When he called me and said he was here, and that he wanted to surprise you, I thought you would be glad to see him. What happened between you? You used to be such good friends,” she asked, sincerely confused.

Without going into details and accidentally spilling something you weren’t supposed to talk about, you tried to explain her how you both changed over the years, and how you were sure his life was now so much different than yours that maybe meeting him like once a year at a family event was more than enough. It hurt you, sure, because you still cared about him, but maybe going no contact would be the best decision to make at this point.

Before your mother could say anything, you heard your dad move behind you in the kitchen. “So much for your plans,” he told your mom with a short laugh as he picked out a bottle of beer from the fridge. You saw your mother shoot a pointed look at him, to which he responded with a shrug. “I’m just saying.”

And with that, he returned to the living room to watch some match, leaving you alone again. You raised an eyebrow in question, now pretty interested in what kind of plan he was talking about. She tried to keep silent and change the topic, but you warned her not to do that, so she took a deep breath and began to explain it. “When we found out I’m pregnant with a girl, Nicole and I began to talk about how nice it would be if you and Oscar got together one day, and when we saw how well you got along, it became kind of an inside joke. It was just a thought, a fantasy, not some super-secret plan,” she said.

It was… Well, it wasn’t shocking. You had always felt like they were trying to make sure the two of you could spend a lot of time together, Nicole even took you on one or two trips when she went to visit Oscar in England, but you always thought they were doing this because your relationship with his sisters was happening naturally, while the two of you sometimes needed a little nudge.

Since you didn’t feel like talking about this anymore, the two of you began to discuss the plans for your father’s upcoming birthday party. You didn’t want something extravagant, just a casual barbeque party with family, and friends, and maybe a few of his work friends, after all he had been clear about his wish for something that let him wear shorts and his favorite t-shirt with a pair of thongs. Maybe it could take place in the evening, so he could go on a fishing trip the day before and only get home early afternoon on his birthday. 

You both heard the doorbell ring, but your dad told you he would see who it is, so you continued your conversation, believing the guest was one of your father’s friends anyway. You couldn’t be more wrong, because he walked into the kitchen and cleared his throat to get your attention, announcing your guest who happened to be none other than Oscar. He flashed a small smile at your mother as he walked over to give her a hug, then he turned to you with a more serious look.

“The plane if waiting for us,” he stated.

Your parents exchanged a confused look, then your mother looked back and forth between the two of you. You had no idea what he was talking about either, so you watched him a raised eyebrow. “Us?” you asked, to which he responded with a nod. Suddenly you remembered the night before, his idea to make you fly to Monaco with him and spend some time with him. “I already told you, I’m not going anywhere,” you told him.

But Oscar seemed completely unimpressed by your resistance. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

You looked out the window, thinking about suggesting the backyard, but something told you your parents would be listening closely. And you weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him, but then you saw a fleeting expression on his face that was begging you to agree. “All right,” you said with a sigh, then signaled him to follow you.

The two of you went upstairs to your room, and once you closed the door, Oscar took a deep breath. “I’m only asking for a few months from your life. Just until the end of the season,” he said, his voice completely flat and steady.

“Which is in December, if I remember correctly. That’s pretty far away.”

He reached out to swipe a stray lock of hair out of your face. “Come on, what’s keeping you here? I’m offering you the chance to travel around the world and attend the races with me.” It sounded nice and all, but you didn’t want to leave, not now. “Your job, right?” he asked, apparently knowing perfectly well what was going through your mind. “Well, your boss is apparently a huge F1 fan, and he could be consoled with some signed merch. He even said they’ll try to find you a position when you return. So yeah, you’re free now.”

There were so many emotions running through you that you didn’t even know how to react at first, but then you decided to slap him hard. He put a hand on his cheek, and you didn’t miss the hint of a smile on his face as he watched you. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight. When did he become like this? The guy standing in front of you, with all the manipulations and plans he was ready to force on you, didn’t remind you of the kind person you used to know.

It was him who broke the heavy silence. “Come on, don’t make a scene. Just get in the car so we can go to your place where you pack a suitcase before we finally go to the airport,” he told you, his voice carrying the kind of authority that almost made you do as he said. But he noticed that you were still not willing to agree to the trip, so he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you, this time being surprisingly gentle. “Just be a good girl for me, okay?” he whispered against your lips.

This was becoming too much for you, and your emotions were running high, causing you to start sobbing with tears running down your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs, even flashing a sweet smile at you. “Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly.

Oscar placed a soft kiss on your forehead before answering. “Because I love you, baby, and I only want the best for you,” he said, somehow making you believe that everything he said was true.

About a month later, you were getting more and more used to your new, temporary lifestyle, even if sometimes it felt like living in a golden cage. Because Oscar wanted to control almost every aspect of your life. He took you shopping so you would wear clothes he approved of, he asked you to join him when he had to do his regular workouts, he picked out what to eat, and you didn’t really have a say when he met his friends from F1 either.

“Their girlfriends will be there, you will have company, baby,” he always said, successfully convincing you to go with him.

Even if you managed to get lost in conversations and start to feel good in your new friend circle, you could always feel his eyes on you, especially when you left the group to bring yourself another drink. Sometimes when a guy decided to try and pick you up, he showed up and pulled you into a messy kiss without a warning to send a message to whoever tried to make a move on you. Every time you asked him why he didn’t trust you, he said he just felt like kissing you, making it seem like it wasn’t related to the guy. But you noticed the pattern. He was possessive, and he didn’t like the idea of your attention ever turning to another man.

There were moments when you couldn’t take it anymore, when you locked yourself in the bathroom and cried for a while, hoping he wouldn’t be looking for you until you pulled yourself together. Moments like this you knew leaving him was the right thing to do, but there were two obstacles.

One, the flight ticket back to Australia was quite pricey, and even though you had savings to use, some money was still missing. Of course, you could have asked your mom to send you the missing amount, but then she would ask why when Oscar was paying for everything, and maybe she would tell Nicole that something was wrong, who would immediately try to contact his son to scold him, and so he would know you’re planning to do something he wouldn’t like.

Two, he always managed to shift your focus back on him. “I love you so much, you know that? It would break me if you ever left me,” he said every time he could sense something was off about you. And you, being the idiot you were, believed him and even felt bad for him. How could you leave when he loved you so much? It would have been cruel; he didn’t deserve to be left heartbroken. Sure, he was a little controlling sometimes, but maybe he was like that because he couldn’t control everything on the track, and he was frustrated when a race didn’t end the way he wanted.

For some reason his fans loved you. All they saw were the photos he carefully chose every time he shared them, and all they heard were short mentions of you in interviews or videos his team posted. And these were all sweet and cute, giving people the illusion that this was the perfect relationship. There were no signs of your struggles, no one knew what you had to go through next to him. Because every time you went somewhere public, you put on your brightest smile and acted like you were madly in love with him.

Even when you weren’t.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, hm?” he asked you softly when you rested your chin on his chest and looked at him.

His hand was drawing circles into your back to soothe you, but it wasn’t enough to calm your racing thoughts. You let out a troubled sigh and thought about how to say what you wanted to get off your chest for days now. It was the weekend of the US GP, but even though the end of the season was close, you didn’t feel like sticking around any longer. You’d been gathering your confidence and strength to tell him what was on your mind, you were getting yourself ready to tell him it was over, that you wanted absolutely nothing from him, but you just never knew how to say it.

In the end, after a minute or two of complete silence, you finally got yourself to speak up. “I want to go home. To Australia, not to Monaco, before you say,” you clarified.

Oscar drew in a sharp breath, his eyes fixed on you the whole time. “What’s back home that you miss so much? But fine, I guess we can travel there after the Brazilian GP,” he said, making it sound like he was doing a huge favor.

“Why do I have a feeling that you simply don’t want to understand what I’m saying? I want to go home. Alone. For good. I hope I don’t need to literally spell it out for you,” you said as you sat up, unable to keep the venom dripping from your voice.

He watched you in silence for a while, his eyes giving away that he was displeased with your sudden resistance, but you couldn’t care less. You finally had the strength to speak up, you weren’t about to let this chance slip away. So, you just sat there and waited, hoping he would yield and let you go, even if you had your doubts about the chances of this result.

Just as expected, he also sat up and curled his fingers around your throat, his thumb putting some pressure on your windpipe. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted to make it clear he could hurt you if you gave him a reason for that. “I thought you were my good girl,” he began, his voice quiet but threatening. “And now this is what I have to hear? That you want to leave me? I give you everything you want, baby, why would you leave? Come on, you’re smarter than this.”

Your heart was about to jump out from your ribcage as you listened to him, which made it impossible to speak up without your voice breaking. He was trying to manipulate you again, using the delicately balanced mixture of a love confession and a threat to convince you to stay with him. Every time he sensed you wanted to leave, he pulled this sickeningly sweet voice, using it as if it was a siren’s song to keep you chained to him.

“Let’s just go back to sleep. You’re tired, I’m sure you will see clearer in the morning,” he said as he placed a kiss on your lips, then pulled you back with him as he lied down again.

This was the moment you knew there was no escape, and he wouldn’t let you leave even after the end of the season as you had agreed in the beginning. You couldn’t stop the sobs that wanted to emerge, and soon you heard Oscar’s attempt to soothe you, talking to you quietly and softly as if you were an upset child. “I love you,” and “It would break me if you left,” and “We are so perfect together.” It was truly sickening, but a very, very tiny part of you still wanted to believe him.

Maybe this time things will be better.

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART EIGHT)

Masterlist

let's go chapter 8! :) Can't wait to start on chapter 9!

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 4.6K ↳chapters in this series: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, mutual pining, brothers teammate trope, bestfriend!reader, fluff, smut, NSFW, 18+ content (mdni!), fingering, masturbation, mutual masturbation, kissing, touching, sexual tension, talking about feelings,

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

It had been about an hour since your moment, and you were currently fast asleep in Oscar's arms. You head was laying on his chest and he was gently tracing circles on your upper arm with his left hand, while he used the other to scroll through his phone.

He heard a soft knock on the door, before he heard his mom call out "Osc, darling, it's just me"

He looked down at the two of you, contemplating wether or not it would be smart to let anyone find them like this, cuddled up in his bed. But after all, it was just his mom and both you and Oscar were dressed decent enough again, to not catch any eyes.

"Yeah come in" he replied, making sure to keep his voice low, so he wouldn't wake you up.

His mom opened the door, greeted with the sight of her son, looking as content as possible. She smiled at him and leaned against the doorframe "Wanted to ask if the both of you wanted to come down to eat some breakfast together, but I think I know the answer already"

Oscar smiled at her, putting his phone down next to himself "I'm sorry you had to walk in on this. She was just sleeping so peacefully and I didn't wanna wake her up"

Nicole smiled again at them "You look happy, Osc. Don't waste the opportunity just because you guys are afraid of the consequences. It might be worth it"

A sigh left the younger Australians lips, looking down at you, curled up in his arms "Trust me, If it was on me, I would have taken the risk a while ago"

Nicole send Oscar a sympathetic smile "I'll make some breakfast for you and bring it upstairs"

"Thanks mom"

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A few hours had passed, currently midday, when you made your way back towards Oscar's bedroom, about to take a shower. You had spend the morning with Oscar's sister Mae, playing board games with her.

As you opened the door, you were greeted by the sight of the Australian driver lying belly down on his bed, scrolling through his phone. You walked over to his bed, standing beside him. A cough left your lips softly to alert him to your arrival, causing Oscar to immediately switch positions, now lying on his back, looking up at you.

"Hi," he murmured, a small blush immediately making its way to his cheeks again. It was endearing how easily he got flustered.

Ever since the two of you had spent the night in his hotel room, Oscar found it impossible to look at you without feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach, constantly replaying what you had done together. It felt forbidden, yet so good.

Oscar looked you up and down, checking you out rather obviously. You were wearing a pair of shorts and a black cropped top, which wasn’t anything special, yet to Oscar, you looked stunning.

"You like what you see?" you sassed at him, a cheeky smile on your face, expecting to make Oscar flustered by catching him staring. But he did the last thing you expected.

He grabbed your arm with his hand and pulled you down onto him, before flipping you around and hovering above you. The sudden movement made your heart race, and the playful glint in his eyes told you he was in a teasing mood.

Oscar rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your skin. "And what if I do?" he whispered, his voice low and teasing. "Were you planning on doing anything about that?"

You gulped, the proximity and intensity of his gaze making your pulse quicken. Trying to maintain your composure, you shot back, "Maybe I'll just have to make you stop staring."

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Good luck with that," he murmured. His hands began to roam over your body, sending shivers down your spine. He squeezed your hip, causing you to gasp softly, and then moved his hand to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze.

Oscar's other hand raked through your hair, the gentle touch contrasting with the growing tension between you. You felt his breath on your lips, so close yet so far. Just when you thought he would kiss you, he pulled away slightly, a teasing glint in his eye.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of frustration and desire.

He grinned mischievously. "If I'm not allowed to stare, then you don't get a kiss," he teased, his tone playful but charged with sexual tension.

You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance. "That's not fair," you pouted.

Oscar leaned in again, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. "Life's not fair," he whispered before pulling back once more, leaving you on edge.

"You're such a tease," you muttered, half-joking, half-frustrated.

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And you love it," he replied, his hand caressing your cheek.

The playful banter and the undeniable chemistry between you both made the moment electric. You knew you were in for a wild ride with Oscar, and despite the tension, you couldn’t help but feel thrilled by his playful antics.

Oscar chuckled and slowly pulled away, offering you his hand to help you get up. You accepted it, and he effortlessly pulled you to your feet.

"Thanks," you said, brushing off your shorts. "I actually came here to take a shower. Is that okay with you?"

Oscar gave you a look of mock indignation. “You don’t have to ask things like that. Everything you do is okay with me.”

You smiled, a little shy but also playful. "I just felt like I had to ask."

Oscar smirked, "Well, for the record, you never have to ask for permission to use my shower. Or anything else."

You rolled your eyes again, but a smile played at your lips. "Noted. Now, if you'll excuse me."

A little time passed as you grabbed your things and headed into the bathroom. You stepped under the warm spray of the shower, sighing in relief. But as the water cascaded over you, you realized you had forgotten your shampoo and shower gel on the desk.

"Oscar!" you called out, your voice carrying through the slightly ajar bathroom door.

Oscar walked over, standing just outside the door. "Yeah? Need something?"

You saw his silhouette through the crack in the door, the tension between you rising again. He quickly looked away, respecting your privacy even as his mind raced with thoughts. "Did you forget something?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"My shampoo and shower gel," you replied. "They're on the desk. Can you hand them to me?"

Oscar grabbed the items and brought them to the door. He pushed it open slightly, walking towards the shower cubicle, his eyes glued to the ground. "Here," he said, his voice a bit nervous.

You laughed softly at his bashfulness. "Oscar, you've already seen me naked. There's nothing you haven't seen before."

He swallowed hard, still looking at the ground. "I just didn't want to intrude if you didn't want me to."

You smiled, feeling a mix of affection and mischief. "I honestly don't mind. In fact, you can take a little peek, if you want"

He hesitated, his heart pounding. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, teasingly running your hands over your wet body. "Absolutely. Come on, Oscar. It's not like you haven't seen me before."

Slowly, he lifted his gaze, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you. The water glistened on your skin, making you look even more stunning. He was starstruck, unable to tear his eyes away.

You decided to put on a show for him, pouring the shower gel into your hands and lathering it up. You spread it over your body, your movements slow and deliberate, making sure he could see every detail. Oscar's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you.

You moved your hands to your breasts, caressing them sensually as you spread the soap. Oscar leaned back against the wall, his breathing becoming more labored. When you turned around to soap up your back, you took the chance to let your hands glide over your ass as well, to which he couldn't help but let out a low groan, his eyes glued to you.

Turning back to face him, you rinsed off the soap, the water cascading over your body. You looked at Oscar, your eyes locking onto his. His arousal was evident, a noticeable bulge forming in his shorts. You smirked, enjoying the effect you had on him.

You moved your hands lower, starting to touch yourself more intimately. Your fingers found your clit, and you began to rub it, throwing your head back a little and moaning softly as you did. Oscar's eyes widened, his breath coming in short gasps.

"You can touch yourself if you want," you said, your voice husky with desire.

He hesitated for a moment, but then his hand moved to his crotch, palming himself through his shorts. He let out a low moan, his hips thrusting slightly into his hand.

You continued to pleasure yourself, your moans growing louder. Oscar's hand slipped into his shorts, stroking himself more urgently. He was mesmerized by the sight of you, his eyes never leaving your body.

The tension built between you, the air thick with desire. Your movements became more frantic, your moans louder. Oscar's breathing was ragged, his strokes quickening as he watched you.

Finally, you both reached the edge. With a final, shared look of intense desire, you both came, your cries mingling in the steamy bathroom.

You looked at each other, a chuckle escaping your lips as you both came down from the high.

You glanced at Oscar, noting the mess he'd made in his shorts. "Maybe you should join me in the shower," you teased. "Since you, you know, made a little bit of a mess"

He grinned, still a bit breathless. "Maybe I should." He practically ripped off his clothes, stepping into the shower with you.

Without wasting a moment, he pinned you against the wall, his lips crashing onto yours in a passionate kiss. The water drenched both of you, adding to the sensuality of the moment. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you intensifying as you lost yourselves in each other.

Oscar moved his hands down to the back of your thighs to lift you up in his arms, and pinned you back against the wall. You slotted your legs around his waist and draped your arms around his neck, slotting your lips back together.

Oscar moved his hands down to the back of your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly. He pinned you against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist as you draped your arms around his neck. Your lips found each other again, and the kiss was even more passionate and heated than before. His tongue explored your mouth, and you responded by biting his lower lip gently, eliciting a deep groan from him.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling on it slightly, which seemed to drive him wild. Oscar squeezed your thighs, holding you firmly as the kiss intensified, both of you lost in the heat of the moment.

Eventually, you both pulled away, panting slightly, eyes locked. "That was amazing," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine awe.

"Yeah, it really was," Oscar agreed, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

The intensity slowly ebbed away, replaced by a tender, intimate atmosphere. You spent the rest of the shower together in a romantic way, taking the time to wash each other with gentle, loving gestures. Oscar carefully spread the shampoo through your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp in soothing circles. The sensation was calming, making you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

Once your hair was rinsed and clean, you both stood under the warm spray of the shower, hugging each other tightly. The water cascaded over you, washing away the remnants of your passionate encounter. It was a moment of pure closeness, just the two of you holding each other, no words needed.

In that embrace, you felt a deep connection, a bond that went beyond the physical. The worries and complications of your situation seemed to fade away, leaving only the feeling of being completely together, if only for this moment.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

Later that day, you were relaxing on one of the loungers in the garden of Oscar's childhood home. Oscar had gone inside to due some chores for his mom while she and his dad were away picking up groceries. This meant you had a little time for yourself, which turned out to be perfect timing as Lily and Kelly both had asked you to FaceTime you in a group call once you had the chance. So you took the chance and pressed the call button.

"Y/n Norris!" Lily immediately started once they picked up. "Spill the beans!"

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what they were hinting at. "What are you talking about?" you teased back at them.

A loud laugh left Kelly's lips as she heard your fake innocence. "Girl, don't act like you don't know."

"Yeah! What she says! First of all, you're an idiot for snogging with him in public, but that's beside the point," you heard Lily say. "JUST GIVE US THE TEA! You two finally snogged and you didn't even tell us!"

"Well, it wasn't supposed to happen, though."

Another chuckle was heard from the other side of the line while Lily rolled her eyes at you.

Kelly was the one to speak up this time, a smirk across her face. "It wasn't supposed to happen? Keep lying to yourself, girl."

"Yeah, fine, I could have made the decision to not do it. But I was drunk, and then I apparently don't really have a sense of reasoning."

Lily smiled at you, a little cheekily. "But, spill the tea. First of all, is he a good kisser?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes again, not surprised by their curiosity. "Definitely" you said, chuckling a little at the wide eyes you got from the girls. "But we might have gone back to his hotel room afterward. We didn't sleep together, though. We just messed around a bit" you said, explaining broadly what happened between the two of you, obviously leaving out the too intimate details.

Lily wiggled her eyebrows at you knowingly "Was it good?"

"God, yes. I think 'good' might be an understatement. Honestly, might be the best I've had" you gushed cheerfully.

Kelly laughed at you and rolled her eyes a little "It's always the quiet ones that have hidden talents" she quipped, another chuckle leaving the brunettes lips.

"For real" you laughed "Can assure you that we legit had the best sex, I've ever had" you exclaimed, unaware of the slip up you just had.

Lily then looked at you questioningly "I thought you just said you didn't have sex"

"Oh" you muttered, realizing you just misspoke "Well, we didn't in his hotel room" you said, clenching your teeth together.

Kelly and Lily both giggled at you, finding it incredibly entertaining that you misspoke, but also got curious about what actually happened "But, that kinda means that you guys hooked up twice in I would say, less than 48 hours?"

"Ehm.. three times actually" you uttered, covering your eyes with your free hand "Four if you include just making out as well"

"Oh. My. God. Norris" Kelly snickered "You honestly keep surprising me every single day"

"I can't help it okay, it just happened"

"Well, you technically could help it, you just didn't want to" Lily deadpanned, a laugh immediately replacing the fake seriousness, before adding "So the conclusion is; you guys are in love with each other, but refuse to get together because of certain reasons, yet you can't keep your hands to yourself"

"Yeah, you could say it like that"

The conversation continued like that for a while, until you noticed that Kelly's mood shifted a little, getting a bit more serious. "Are you planning on sticking with your decision of you two not getting together, by the way?" she asked, a sigh escaping her. "Because, you know, I'm all for having a bit of fun together without strings attached. But as far as I know, Oscar is madly in love with you. Wouldn't it be a bit sad to lead him on like that? Don't you think he'll might get the wrong impression if you start hooking up more often?"

You felt your heart break a little at the thought, not wanting to hurt him in any way, but you still had to make up your mind about it. You let out a soft sigh, spilling your honesty to the girls. "To be honest, I really don't know. Up until yesterday, even though I've been in love with him for a while now, I was still convinced that I had to stick to it, but things kinda changed this morning after we had sex and now I'm not so sure."

Lily shook her head at you, a small grin on her face. "And if I interpreted you correctly, it didn't feel like 'casual hookup sex', or did it?"

You remained silent for a while, thinking about what to say next. "Not really, no," you spoke, the words leaving your mouth hesitantly. "We might have accidentally said 'I love you' to each other at the end."

"Y/n, we really love you and we stand by you most of the time, but I think I can speak for the both of us if I say that you really have to talk to Oscar about this. And then I mean, explicitly," Kelly said, gaining an agreeing nod from Lily.

"I think you should, yes," Lily added, the grin on her face turning into a more caring look. "You really should make up your mind about what you want because it's not fair to either of you, honey."

"Like, don't get me wrong, friends with benefits can work if there are no feelings involved. But you are in love with each other, one of you is bound to get hurt if you keep this going."

You nodded, agreeing with the both of them, unable to really use your words for a reply. Stuck in a war with yourself on how to tackle this dilemma.

"We obviously can't decide what decision to make; you have to do that yourself. But I do think that you at least should talk to Oscar today. He deserves the clarity as well, you know?"

"How can I give him that if I don't even know myself?"

"I think that just talking about it with him might give you the clarity that you need."

"Maybe you're right."

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

At about three o' clock in the afternoon, Oscar's family and you had gathered around the garden table, some snacks and drinks on it. Oscar's dad had picked up Oscar's grandparents, who were staying over for a few days. They were honestly such a cute couple and it was evident how good their bond with Oscar and their other grandkids were, it was honestly delightful to see. It made you warm and funny, thinking about the bond Lando and you shared with your grandparents as well.

You had been talking about basically everything and nothing. Sharing some stories of Oscar when he was younger, as well as about how you gained your interest in your job field. It had led you guys to the current subject of discussion, your current position as Oscar's physio/trainer.

"So, darling, how long have you been Oscar's physio for?" his grandfather asked you.

"Well, I worked as a medical assistant at McLaren for about a year before this, so I already worked alongside him every now and then already. But I only started working as his personal physio since the start of this season" you explained, looking over at Oscar for a second, before redirecting your gaze towards his grandfather "And since the GP here in Melbourne, I also took over the role of his previous trainer, Kim. He was able to get a different position that fitted better with his personal life, so I got offered to take up that role as well, which I gladly accepted"

Chris laughed at his son "Don't be too soft on him tho! He could use a little bit of strictness" he joked "Otherwise he'll get lazy, won't you Oscar?"

Oscar rolled his eyes at his dad and send you a smile, delighted that his grandparents seemed to enjoy your company very well "She's doing a good job" he complimented you "I'm glad she got it. How awesome is it to be able to work so much with your best friend"

"Oh" Oscars grandmother chuckled "Sorry, darling. I thought the lovely girl was your girlfriend."

Oscar turned beet red "N-No! She's not my girlfriend, Nan."

His grandmother looked at you and then back at her grandson "Your eyes say something different, darling. You look at her as if you want to marry her"

"Mom, don't tease the boy" Nicole told her mom, trying to keep her in check a little "They just have a very close friendship"

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The sun was setting over the ocean, casting a warm golden hue across the beach. The waves lapped gently at the shore, a soothing backdrop to the weighty conversation you knew you needed to have. As you walked beside Oscar, the sand soft beneath your feet, you felt the tension between you, an unspoken understanding that this was a pivotal moment. When you reached a small, secluded ledge overlooking the sea, you both sat down, the air thick with anticipation.

Oscar turned to you, his eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset. "We need to talk about us," you said, breaking the silence. Your voice was steady, but your heart raced. "I think it's time we figure out what's really going on between us. We deserve clarity, both of us."

He nodded, looking down at his hands. "I agree. It's been... confusing. But amazing," he added, glancing at you with a small, sad smile, before speaking up again "We need to make a decision. A firm one. If we decide not to date, we can't keep being intimate. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

You sighed, feeling the weight of your words. "Yeah. We need to be honest with each other."

Oscar reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "So, let's weigh it all out. The pros and cons."

You smiled faintly. "Okay. Pros first."

He thought for a moment, then started, "Well, we're obviously attracted to each other. And we care about each other. I love spending time with you, whether it's working out, watching movies, or just talking. And... I'm in love with you, but you knew that already" he said, his voice breaking. "I love how you challenge me, how you're always there with a smile after a tough day, how you get my stupid jokes. I love how we can talk for hours about everything and nothing"

Oscar took a deep breath, his voice a little unsteady due to the amount of emotions he was feeling at the moment "I love how it feels when I'm with you, like this morning, when we were together... it was perfect. It meant everything to me."

A tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it away quickly, but not before you saw it. "I'm in love with you too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But... the cons."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "There's the fact that you're my client. My job is to keep you in peak physical condition, and dating could complicate that. There's also Lando. He's my brother, and you're his teammate. If things went south between us... it could get messy."

Oscar looked down, his expression pained and his eyes watery "I know. I think about that too. But what if it doesn't go wrong? What if we make it work?"

You shook your head slightly, feeling the familiar fear creeping in. "It's just... it's a lot of pressure. What if we hurt each other? What if we can't keep it professional? What if it's wrong?"

Oscar's eyes were misty, and he swallowed hard, another tear slipping down his cheek. "I'm afraid too. But the idea of not being with you... that scares me more." He reached up and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "Does this feel wrong?" he whispered, leaning in to kiss you softly, full of love and tenderness.

The kiss melted your fears away, if only for a moment. It felt right, in the best way possible, but the anxiety lingered. You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his. "It feels perfect," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But that doesn't make it any less scary."

Oscar nodded, his hand still on your cheek, tears still flowing. "I know. But maybe we can take it slow. No labels, no pressure. Just... see where it goes. Keep it a secret, if that helps."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity and hope. "Taking it slow... I think I can do that. But we need to be careful. We need to communicate, be honest with each other."

"Absolutely," he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. "We'll make sure we're both on the same page, every step of the way."

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of cautious optimism. "Okay. Let's give it a shot. But remember, no labels yet. And we keep it between us."

Oscar smiled, his relief palpable, though his eyes were still glistening with unshed tears. "Deal." He leaned in and kissed you again, this time with more certainty, sealing the promise you had just made to each other.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you both sat there, hand in hand, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. The future was uncertain, but for the first time, you both felt ready to face it together.

After a few moments of quiet, you felt Oscar shift beside you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "About this 'taking it slow' thing," he began cautiously, "what does that mean for... intimacy? Like, when we're alone, can I kiss you or hug you whenever I feel like it? Or does 'taking it slow' mean to you, that we avoid that as well?"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Of course, you can. I love it when you kiss me, or hug me. It makes me feel loved"

Oscar smiled, a bit of the tension easing from his face. "Good. Because I really enjoy it too."

Feeling a mix of shyness and cheekiness, you added, "And just to clarify; for me, 'taking it slow' only applies to us not having a label and not telling anyone yet. It doesn't apply to... you know, the more intimate stuff. Like what we did this morning or in your hotel room."

Oscar's eyes widened slightly, a small smile spreading across his face. "So, you're okay with...?"

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. "Yes, I'm totally fine with it. I actually want that. Just because we're taking it slow in terms of labels and keeping it a secret, doesn't mean we can't enjoy being close to each other."

Oscar let out a relieved laugh, pulling you into a tight hug. "I'm so glad to hear that. Because honestly, I don't think I could keep my hands off you."

You laughed, hugging him back tightly. "Good. Because I don't want you to."

As the stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, you both sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, feeling a new sense of hope and possibility for what lay ahead.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛᴡᴏ ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

The sun is annoying, and the world can survive without vegetables.

This is the conclusion you’ve drawn after waking up to warm, yellow rays that shine directly onto your closed eyes. You blink groggily, rubbing your tired eyes with a free hand while the other brushes your teeth. 

“Honey, you’re gonna be late!” 

You mumble out an incoherent reply to your mom from the bathroom, quickly tossing on a thin cardigan after rinsing your mouth to rid the intense menthol sting that lingers on your lips. Entering the kitchen once done, however, provides you with a delicious reminder of how amazing of a cook your mom is. 

You grab a fork, devouring the scrambled eggs on toast. Sriracha stains the plate as a result of your messy eating habits, placing the now-empty plate in the basin with a satisfied hum. “Thanks, Mama!” You grab your school bag and rush to the door. You pause at the small alcove before the door, stepping down and slipping on your shoes. 

“Bye, Mama! See you later!” You call out before shutting the door behind you. The walk to school is as usual, with loud car horns being beeped as people rush to work while you stroll past graffiti-filled walls on the side of buildings. The street outside your school is already crowded with various cliques chatting away, and you enthusiastically greet some of them with nods and half-smiles as you enter through the main gate.

You polish off your taco, throwing away your napkin after using it to wipe your lips of any grease stuck on them. You look up at the sound of your name being called, grinning once you see a short brunette walking down the hallway. “Morning,” You greet Nicole cheerfully, opening your locker and pulling out the textbooks and notebooks you need for the day.

“What’s with you today?” 

You hum at her question, glancing at her with a quick shrug as she scrolls through Instagram. Nicole’s the first friend you made here in Brooklyn High School after transferring here four months ago. She had been the first to approach you, asking to borrow a pencil after she forgot to bring hers to class. 

Like any other teenager being forced to move cities to somewhere completely new, you stick to her like glue after that, eventually infiltrating your way into her friend group. 

“You know me, studious and independent’s the vibe I got goin’ on,” You grin at Nicole, draping an arm around her shoulder and giving her an affectionate squeeze. She looks up from her phone with a frown, using her finger to push up her glasses which had slid down slightly from their usual perch on her nose.

“Don’t be so uptight,” You chuckle, nudging her side. She sighs, rolling her eyes in amusement instead. You’re interrupted from your conversation on where to hang out this weekend at your name being yelled out from a distance away. 

“Eyyyy, que pasa!” You laugh at Michael’s greeting as he comes up to you with an outstretched fist, bumping it gently after removing your arm from where it was resting around Nicole’s shoulders. “Have you studied for the quiz today?” He asks, slinging a casual arm around your shoulders while you walk down the hall with Nicole beside you. 

You hum with a quick shrug. “Think so?”

“Man, you gotta get your head down from the clouds, bro.” He chuckles, trying to move sneakily to stand beside Nicole, who simply holds up her hand, stopping him from coming any closer with a glare. He retracts the arm he’s about to sling around her shoulders with a sheepish grin, holding it up in surrender.

“Anyway,” He brushes off her clear rejection, focusing back on you, “I’m planning a hangout with a few friends to celebrate the end of exam season. You in?” You immediately nod with a wide grin, already excited at the thought of goofing around with your friends. 

“Of course, you’re invited too. Maybe we can have our own little hangout-” 

“I’d rather stab my right arm.” Nicole cuts him off with an angelic smile, though her venom-filled words elicit an amused laugh from Michael. “Ah, how I love that icy nature of yours,” He sighs with a shake of his head.

“Who’s coming?’ You ask absentmindedly, adjusting the two notebooks in your arms. 

“Jeremy, Ally, Geoff, Tiff, Miles…”

“Miles? As in, Miles Morales?” Nicole finally speaks, eyes wide in surprise.

“Who’s that?” You don’t recognise the name. The rest you’re familiar with, though. They’re all in Brooklyn High, just in different classes. You’d seen them in passing around the school, and they recognised you in turn as one of Michael’s friends. 

“Right, you don’t know him. He transferred a while before you joined. He’s in Brooklyn Visions now. Here,” Nicole holds up her phone to your face, and you squint at the picture on her screen. Huh. He’s kinda cute, you suppose.

“Cool. Guess we’ll meet during the hangout then.” You sit down at your desk, Michael sitting at the desk beside you while she takes her seat in front of you.

“Wait, how do you know Miles?” Nicole rolls her eyes as she turns around in her chair, placing her elbow on your desk as she leans on her palm. 

“He helped me out a couple of times.” She answers simply. Michael frowns slightly. “Were you two….?”

“Why? Are you going to be devastated if I say yes?” Nicole smirks. “Unfortunately, it’s actually because our moms knew each other.” She sighs, holding up her free hand to observe her nails.

Before Michael can respond, the bell rings to signal the start of classes. They pass by in a flash, and all too soon, you’re outside the door to the art classroom. You’re hesitant to enter, eyeing the doorknob as if it’d burn you as soon as you touch it. 

“Well? Will you stay outside collecting dust, or will you enter?” You flinch at the sudden voice, looking up to see Miss Dawson looking at you with an expectant gaze. Her arms are crossed, waiting for you to go inside. 

“Y-yeah, I was just about to, but then I realised I forgot my…. brushes?” 

“You stored them in my desk drawer last week because they were too heavy to carry home with you.” 

Damn it. You purse your lips, huffing at your forgetfulness. “Fine,” You mutter, grabbing the doorknob and turning it, walking to your usual corner of the room. You pull out your sketchbook and pencil case, leaning back in your chair and waiting for Miss Dawson to start her lesson.

“Today, I’ll be assigning you a task for your end-of-year exams. I know some of you are interested in building up your portfolio to apply for the Brooklyn Academy of Fine Arts or maybe even to other schools in different states.” You perk up slightly at the mention of art school, placing your hands on your sketchbook. Miss Dawson speaks slowly yet surely, looking at each student with pure conviction. When her gaze lands on you, you’re a hundred percent sure she can see every thought that crosses your mind, each doubt that lingers in your heart. 

“Your topic is, Your Favourite Scenery.”

Murmurs spread through the class, everyone looking at each other with worry. You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it in thought as you furrow your brows. Sure, the topic might seem simple enough on the surface, but the fact that it’s so broad is exactly what unnerves you.

Having a chosen topic is good as a guideline, even more so when you know precisely what your favourite scenery is. With the addition of inspiration and motivation, it’d be a breeze to complete.

The problem is, you have none of the above.

You’re not sure what scenery you enjoy, much less have a favourite. Sure, sunsets are pretty, and skyscrapers are cool, but not much really struck you as deeply. You’re made aware of Miss Dawson gesturing for you to come over to her desk, hesitantly standing up and walking there while everyone else is discussing among themselves about the topic given.

You part your lips to greet her, only to be cut off when she holds out her hand expectantly. You huff, handing her your sketchbook. She flips through the pages, frowning slightly when she sees the random doodles and mindless sketches until she stops on a specific one.

She hums, taking in whatever’s on the page. You can’t remember what you’ve drawn, but you’re more than reluctant to admit how much of a slump you’ve been in lately. It’s not like you can come into class, declaring your lack of talent whilst waving your hands in the air.

You focus on Miss Dawson's makeshift jar of pencils on her desk, recalling someone else gifting it to her for Teacher’s Day. The blunt nibs are a testament to how much she uses them, a bedazzled one drawing your attention. You pick it up, observing the tiny sequins firmly glued to the wood with a fascinated gaze. 

You flinch when Miss Dawson suddenly clears her throat, automatically moving your hands behind your back and focusing your attention back on her. “So, I assume you had an encounter with our city’s local hero?”

“How’d you know?” You ask, eyes wide in surprise. 

She simply turns the sketchbook around to face you, the sketch you’d made last night of Spiderman clear as day. Your cheeks warm, the drawing having slipped your mind. “Looking through your sketchbook, it’s obvious that you’ve been in a slump, honey. But this sketch…This is really good, maybe even one of the better ones you’ve done.”

“Thank you?” You’re not sure if she just complimented or insulted you. 

“Seeing him must have helped your inspiration somewhat, didn’t it?”

“I guess so. I dunno, it’s not like a switch I can turn on and off anytime I want.”

“Well, you’ll have to learn how to keep it on. And for this assignment in particular, I want you to focus not just on your favourite scenery. I want you to focus on what exactly makes it your favourite.” Miss Dawson hands the sketchbook back to you with a knowing smile, and you take it from her unsurely.

“Right…” You return to your desk with one dismissive wave from her hand, sitting back down with a defeated groan. You prop your chin onto your hand, staring at the sketch blankly.

An art slump is the worst. Besides, it’s just a drawing of Spiderman; although it is admittedly some of your best work, it’s not like you can just channel that again at the snap of your fingers.

You need inspiration. You need motivation. You need….a muse, which can only mean one thing.

You’re gonna attempt to find Spiderman.

Attempt #1: Have a friendly run-in!

“This is such a bad idea; why am I even trying to find a superhero? I’m literally just going to ask him to be my muse and he’s gonna say no, which is gonna be so embarrassing and I’ll never be able to show my face around here again and what if next time I’m being robbed he turns away because it’s me??”

“Okay, calm down. He’s not going to turn away because he rejected you, or he wouldn’t be a superhero. Also, you’re literally being paranoid because I’m not there with you.” 

You frown, pulling your phone away from your ear to check if it really is Nicole you’re calling. “That’s not true.”

“I know when you’re lying.”

“Okay, maybe I’m being slightly paranoid, but for good reason! Why can’t you just come with me? You’re good at getting people to do what you want.” 

Nicole’s soft chuckle somewhat relieves you, knowing she took it as a compliment. “I’d come over, but I have to help plan the outing with the group, remember? And I’m not the one with a ride to an Art Academy on the line - you are.”

“Wait, outing?”

“Yeah, remember this morning? You’ll meet Miles then; I think you’d get along. Anyway, you’ll do fine. Michael told me Spidey swings by the hotdog cart every Tuesday, so I guess it’s reliable information.” Nicole reassures you, though her last few emotions are filled with a tinge of doubt. She pulls the phone away to mumble something to someone, and you’re sure it’s an insult based on the irritated bite in her voice when she returns to the phone.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow then…” You say reluctantly, unwilling to hang up the phone.

“Yeah, bye.”

The monotonous dial tone greets your ears after Nicole’s curt goodbye. You shut off your phone, flipping your sketchbook to an empty page with a sigh. You rifle through your pencil case, picking up the sequined pencil you’d accidentally taken from Miss Dawson and tapping it against the blank paper.

Draw your favourite scenery.

You look around, taking in the vibrant green trees and serene lake, the joyful laughter of children and parents filling the air. It’s peaceful. Dogs wander around, some leashed and some set loose. One approaches you, but you wave it away, flinching when it gets too close for comfort. It’s no longer peaceful.

“You can go away now…” You mumble, poking its side to hopefully urge it to move away from you. Your legs automatically move up to the bench, drawing your knees close to your chest. “Shoo, bad dog! Where’s your owner?” You glance up to check if their owner is nearby, only for your bedazzled pencil to be snatched out of your hands.

“Hey!” You exclaim angrily, reaching out to grab it from the dog’s mouth. You hesitate when you see the dog drool dripping onto the end of the pencil, eyeing it with a shudder. You take a moment to steel yourself, grabbing the slimy end with as much force as possible, trying to yank it free from its mouth. 

“Let go of my stuff! That’s not yours! I have to return it to Miss Dawson, you stupid dog!” Your grip slips, and you land on the ground with a yelp, wincing when your knee gets scraped by the coarse dirt through your ripped jeans. 

“Give it back!” You demand, lurching yourself forward and grabbing the pencil again. However, the dog growls playfully, thinking of it as nothing more than a game for entertainment. “This is why,” You grunt between shallow breaths, “I prefer cats!”

Your sketchbook had fallen beside you, the beautiful cover now stained with dirt. You narrow your eyes into a glare, scowling at the dog. “Let go!” 

It finally does, maybe because it sensed that you wouldn’t be playing with it. You fall back once more, your back hitting the ground harshly. The breath is instantly knocked out of your chest, and you inhale deeply, trying to force more air back into your lungs with a choked gasp. 

You sit back up, holding the pencil up victoriously until you remember that there’s dog drool all over your hand. You groan in disgust, searching for a tissue to wipe it off. Wait. Your sketchbook is missing. 

You look around frantically, only to see the exact same dog from earlier now burying a half-open sketchbook into the dirt. Your sketchbook. A strangled yell rips itself from your throat, practically throwing yourself at it with a glare that could rival even Karen herself. You push the dog away, scrabbling at the dirt to uncover your almost completely buried sketchbook. 

“Bye, Spiderman!” Your head instantly turns at the sentence, spotting the familiar black silhouette nodding his thanks to the hotdog cart owner, his hotdog securely held in his hand. He flicks his free hand and shoots a web onto the side of a building, beginning to leave.

“Wait! I have a ques-” 

He swings off into the distance, already blocks away in the span of a few seconds without hearing your cry. Your arm falls to your side, collapsing back onto the ground to catch your breath while your sketchbook lies buried in the dirt. 

Damn it.

Attempt #2: Get Mugged!

“God, I hope this works,” You mumble. The streets around you are dimly lit, and you’re armed with nothing more than your bulky pencil case and a whistle, both stored in the deep pockets of your hoodie. The handbag containing your wallet and phone bumps against your waist, the strap loosely slung across your shoulder.

You’re the perfect walking target to be mugged.

Granted, this is probably one of the worst ideas you’ve had in the history of bad ideas. The chilly Brooklyn night breeze tickles your ears with an icy breath, and your body gives an involuntary shiver. You scan the empty streets hopefully. When was Spiderman – or better yet, a robber, going to show up?

Whether it was desperation or pure adrenaline driving you forward at this point, you couldn’t tell.

But you’re here, and you’re determined to see things through.

Minutes pass of you wandering the dark streets like a fool, and you’re just about to head back home when you sense that something’s off. Your steps slow, and you hear someone else’s shoes scuffle a short distance behind you. 

You start to speed up, fingers gripping the heavy pencil case in your pocket. You’d been hit by it before by accident and did not get away unscathed by any means. Your heartbeat quicks its pace in your chest, sensing them get closer with each step. 

There he is.

You finally spot Spiderman chilling on the roof of a nearby apartment building, breaking into a run. The mugger behind you grunts in surprise, and you hear him start to run as well. Your breaths are short and ragged, and you finally reach just below the building. 

“Stop right there, missy!” Looking up from where you’ve bent over to catch your breath, you see the sharp knife blade held up at you. The robber is slouching, just as out of breath as you are. However, he straightens his back and flashes you a yellow-toothed smirk from under his cap, and you shudder at the bits of dirt clearly seen in his beard. 

You hold your arms up in surrender, risking a quick glance up, only for Spiderman to jump down and land smoothly right in front of you. “Hey man, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play around with sharp objects?” He tuts, shaking his head as he uses his web shooter to tug the knife away from the robber.

The knife lands in his hands with ease, the robber immediately turning to flee. “I don’t like doing this bit, but you leave me no choice!” Spiderman does a quick frontflip and lands before the robber, grabbing his shoulder and tilting his head. “You should’ve known better,” You hear him scold, and spot a light blue electric current flowing from his fingers to the robber, knocking him unconscious. 

Spiderman lets go, taking a surprised step back as the robber falls to the floor, unconscious. He winces, dusting off his hands and walking toward you. “You shouldn’t come out here during the night,” He chides playfully, grabbing the knife that had fallen to the floor when he caught the mugger. “You’d be in a lot of trouble if I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah, thank you. Actually, I wanted to ask-”

“Whoop.” He cuts you off, glancing at his watch, “I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls! You’re gonna want to take a right down here, another left, and then one more right and you’ll be at the main street. Stay safe!” He gestures down to a more brightly lit street, patting your back before shooting his web shooter at a nearby building.

“Wait- Ugh,” You groan in defeat, watching him swing off again without hearing your question. Your arm is outstretched, fingers barely brushing against his arm before he leaves. 

DAMN IT.

Attempt #3: If he doesn’t stop and listen to the goddamn question, you’re going to lose it.

“Calm down, pinto.”

“I spilt pinto beans on myself, one time, people. One. Time.” You frown, crossing your arms. Nicole smirks, shrugging nonchalantly in response. 

“Yeah, yeah. Michael told me that he saw your Spidey boy swing around the taco truck down the street a couple times every Thursday, so we should keep a lookout. Don’t want your sketchbook taken away from you again, do we?” 

“How does Michael even know all this?” You mumble. 

“Look, we don’t ask him questions, and he doesn’t ask us any. It’s a two-way street, pinto. Use those brains of yours.” You shove Nicole lightly with a roll of your eyes. Falling back, she leans against a wall, immediately pulling out her phone and scrolling through it. 

God, she has a serious internet addiction. You choose to scan the crowd instead, your gaze sweeping over the kids from the Brooklyn Visions Academy filling the street, having just gotten out of their clubs. You look somewhat out of place with your own uniform, shuffling your feet slightly when they glance over with confused gazes. 

You raise your brows in response to a few of them, and they leave with a haughty scoff. You roll your eyes. Stuck up snobs, the lot of them. Hopefully, the information Michael provided is accurate, though you’re sure you’ll never know where he gets it from. 

“Hey, is the bowling alley chill with you for the hangout? Miles sucks at bowling, so we can team up to obliterate the boys.” 

“Sure,” You reply absentmindedly, only to pause and turn to face her. “Is he not free to meet up before, though? I’d like to get to know him first, so it won’t be as awkward.” 

“Nah,” Nicole frowns at her screen, “He’s busy on all the days I suggested. Something about homework and stuff. Maybe he’s turned into one of the snobs.” She puts her phone away with a snort. “Also, there’s your Spidey-guy.”

“What?” True enough, he’s at the taco truck right now, ordering a taco and waiting patiently. Spiderman has to have lunch breaks too, you suppose. You watch him tap his fingers against the metal table, bobbing his head along to a beat playing in his mind.

You grit your teeth, grab your bag and keep your now clean sketchbook, having wiped off all the dirt with a cloth and the best surface cleaner you own back home. Your eyes shine with a determined glint, practically marching through the crowd to him.

“Hey!” You stumble back, looking down at the bright yellow mustard on your pristine white shirt. “Are you kidding me?” You growl in frustration, looking up to see a girl dressed in the Brooklyn Visions uniform holding up her ruined basket of fries, the small toppled tub now on its side and most of the sauce on you.

“Watch where you’re going!” She huffs, looking at you with pure disdain. 

“Watch where I’m going? Watch where you’re going!” 

Oh God, please let him still be there-

Spiderman is holding his taco now, trying to slip away through the crowd. Your eyes narrow into a glare, pushing past the girl with a muttered apology, running as fast as possible to catch up to the superhero.

You spot him jogging into an alleyway, following suit. You stop, however, when you see that it’s empty. “What?” You mumble, looking around frantically for him. You hear a loud coo, looking up to see the very hero you’re looking for crawling along the wall of the Academy dorms. 

“Wha-?” Now you’re baffled. You watch him reach a specific window, using an arm to open it and enter before sliding it shut behind him. Three floors up and the last one down the hall. Got it. You run to the entrance, only to be stopped by a security guard.

“Woah, woah, woah. Only students of Brooklyn Visions Academy are allowed inside.” He chuckles, holding a hand in front of you to stop you from entering. 

“No, you don’t understand! I need to talk to someone inside.” You try to plead, but he merely raises his brows. 

“Okay, what’s their name?”

“W-well. You see, here’s the thing.” You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Mmhm. Come back when you have their name, and I’ll call them down for you, okay?” He dismisses you, using his hands to turn your shoulders around. He pats your back slightly, sending you on your way.

You frown, brows furrowing in thought for a way to get in. Maybe Nicole would have an idea. She’s eerily good at stuff like this. Your feet pound against the pavement in a steady rhythm as you run back to where you had left her waiting.

“Nic!” You call out, panting heavily once you reach the girl who’s still in the same position as when you left. “I need help; I gotta sneak into the dorms of the snob school.” You say through your gulps for air, your lungs screaming for more oxygen.

“You need to sneak in?” She asks, looking up from her phone with raised brows.

“Yeah. I can’t explain right now, but I really need your help.” You confirm breathlessly.

She mulls over your plea for a moment before shrugging, moving away from the wall and pocketing her phone. She stretches her arm above her head momentarily. “Stay here.” She orders before stepping out of the alleyway and out of your sight. 

You wait, albeit impatiently, tapping your foot as urgency consumes you. Nicole soon returns with the Academy’s blazer in her hands, tossing it at you with a grin. “Got it for free; you can keep it. I gotta go for a study session. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah, thanks, Nic.” She never fails to impress you every time. You thank her quickly before returning to the dorm entrance, wearing the blazer on the way. You halt once you reach it, keeping your head down and fastening the buttons securely, hiding the bright yellow stain on your shirt. 

God, it’s probably going to get onto the blazer too, you wince. Spotting a group of girls walking into the entrance, you jog over and stick close to them, walking past the security guard from earlier. 

Once you’re inside, your tense shoulders sag with relief, a massive weight being lifted off your chest. The atrium is pretty cool, but you don’t have time to admire any architecture right now. You glance at the two winding staircases, signs directing the students to the boys' or girls' side.

You recall the window being on the right side of the building, walking up the respective staircase. Luckily, not many students are around. Most of them have gone out. 

Third floor, last room down the hall.

You take the lift up, exchanging an awkward smile with another girl who’s clearly sneaking in as well. She gets off at the second floor, and you spam the button to close the lift doors. As soon as they close, you practically collapse against the wall with a long, drawn-out sigh of relief.

The lift doors open to the third floor. You peek your head out, looking around. Good, there’s no one.

Stepping out of the lift, you pause. Do you go right, left, or straight? From what you recall of the exterior structure, you’re pretty sure it’s the hall on your left. Steeling your resolve, you walk down the carpeted floor, your footsteps muffled. 

There it is, the room at the end of the hallway. You raise your hand, knocking on the hard wood once, twice, three times.

Silence is all that greets you.

“Is anyone there?” You call out softly. When no one responds, you grip the doorknob just to check. To your surprise, however, the door swings open with a single push, revealing the room inside. 

It wasn’t locked.

“Pardon my intrusion….” 

You step over a pile of clothes on the floor, your nose scrunching at the smell. Deodorant and musk fill the air. A picture frame sits on a desk to your left, with a photo of a short boy.

That can’t be him; his stature is too different.

Another picture sits on a small nightstand, and you pick it up to see a familiar face. The boy in the picture with his family is tall, with chocolate brown eyes and raven-black hair. You frown, tilting your head. Where had you seen him before…?

A soft thud draws your attention. Something had fallen to the floor from where it was squashed between the bedframe of the bunk bed and another piece of furniture. You bend down, picking it up. 

Spiderman’s mask hangs loosely in your grasp.

You look multiple times from the mask and the poorly-hidden suit to the picture, finally connecting the dots. You pull out your phone, hurriedly texting the one person who could confirm your surefire theory.

yo, Nic. send me the picture of the guy - Miles, i think? - Read, 2pm

Sure ig. dont go stalking him tho - Nicole, 2pm.

The strong vibration of your phone alerts you to a new text. You look down, thankful for Nicole’s fast reply. Opening the text, an image of the ever-so-elusive Miles Morales fills your screen. 

Oh my god.

Your eyes widen, your suspicions confirmed.

It can't be.

But it's the only explanation that makes sense. 

Miles Morales is Spiderman. Spiderman is Miles Morales.

You hide the mask back where it's dropped out of its hiding place, swallowing thickly when you hear the lift ding, making your swift exit.

Rushing down the hall, the last thing you expect is to bump against the very boy you’ve been looking for. You don’t dare risk a glance, recognising him just by his shoes alone. Ignoring his apology, you run off, making your exit.

Once you exit the dorm entrance, most of the tension leaves your body. Making your way back home, your mind reels from the discovery.

Miles Morales is Spiderman.

While you slip away from his notice, Miles spots something in his peripheral vision. His suit had fallen slightly out of his hiding place. Thinking nothing of it, he goes to stuff it back in when he sees a small spot of yellow on the side of his mask.

Yellow?

He brings the mask up to his nose and takes a sniff. His brows furrow at the familiar scent.

...Mustard?

He wipes it off with a shrug.

[girlleon]

I MUST BE SPOILED AND ROTTEN (CAUSE NO ONE ELSE WOULD EVER DO)

real dad!leon x fem reader

warnings: father-daughter incest. could perhaps be read as a sequel for too close for comfort. daddy kink. also more nicole dollanganger, this is a little more directly inspired by uncle. pussy smacking, d/s dynamics, established relationship. title taken from spoiled and rotten by darling violetta.

Summer is blisteringly hot. It’s been nothing but eighties and nineties and humidity. It doesn’t even have the decency to cool the hell down at night. Your box fan doesn’t do much for you, the only air conditioner is in the living room.

Which is why you’re awake, staring at the ceiling with a gnawing in your lower stomach.

You get up, clad in dad’s old t-shirt and ruffle socks, and pad down to dad’s room.

The door creaks when it opens, there’s no reprieve from the heat in his room or the hallway.

You slip silently into his room and crawl into bed with him. “Daddy?”

Leon’s up in a moment, strong arms wrapping around you. Government training left its mark all these years later. “What is it, baby?”

“Can’t sleep.” You nuzzle his neck, leaving a kiss over his pulse.

He laughs, voice ragged from sleep, and your stomach flutters as one of his arms unwinds from you and dives into your panties. “Yeah? Think I know why, baby. Want me to make it better?”

You nod, lifting your leg up a little more for him.

Quickly, he withdraws his hand and smacks your pussy hard enough to make you jolt and cry out.

“What do we say?” No change in his inflection, but that’s your daddy.

“Thank you, daddy.” You mumble, rewarded with a kiss to your jaw and his hand gently petting over your stinging clit.

“My poor baby.” Leon coos, nudging your nose with his and leaving a kiss near your mouth as he slowly fumbles with your clit. “Your fingers not doing it for you anymore?”

You shake your head. “No, daddy.” They haven’t since he got inside you that first time, bending you over the kitchen counter while dinner burned on the stove.

Yeah, it was real fun trying to shut up the fire alarm whilst you both were naked from the waist down. Doing the dishes was awful, but that’s his job.

You stiffen up when he pushes two fingers in, no burning stretch because he got you used to three in no time.

When you moan, Dad rewards you with the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. “That’s my sweet girl.” He rests his forehead against yours, then kisses you as you get close, feeding off your moans and the way your walls squeeze his fingers.

Leon withdraws his fingers and gently wipes his hand on your tummy, patting your mound gently and grinning when you giggle. “Is that better?” He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you over, head in your neck.

“Mhm…” you nod lazily, already nodding off.

One orgasm plus dad’s weight on you equals a good ten hours of sleep.

You shift a little as you stand in front of your mom’s grave, feeling sort of ashamed in some odd way. Would mom be horrified if she was alive? If she knew her husband and kid were doing it on the daily?

Then again, you kinda ceded the kid label the second you let dad get inside you. Maybe that’s why you’re so interested in Twin Peaks, Laura Palmer was her dad’s own daughter-wife.

You lean into dad’s side unconsciously, staring at the headstone and sweating through your t-shirt in the fucking sun.

Later, as you’re cooking for the two of you, dad’s hands slip beneath your shirt, resting on your waist. “You’ve been all weird today, baby.” He sets his chin on top of your head and comes a little closer, fingers drumming on your sides.

He’s like a cat, Leon is. Never shows up when you’re actively showing attention to him and is bothered by it at best, only to turn around and come begging for it when you inevitably fuck off. You’d think he’d sleep at your feet if he could.

You sigh, stirring the noodles around the pan. “It’s complicated.”

Leon sighs too, dropping his head to ghost his mouth over your cheekbone. “So? Talk about it with me. I’ll uncomplicate it for you.”

You stir a little more, staring down at the pan and slowly sweating through your previously clean shirt. You should’ve just thrown this shit in the crockpot and called it a day. “Feel like I’m disrespecting her. Mom.”

His hands freeze; called it.

“Why?” He asks slowly, like he’s trying to interrogate you. Kinda reminds you of when he’d run a full investigation of why there were no leftover pizza slices left. If there are none left and only two people in the house, no dog, then how many graves are you spitting on?

You scoff, trying to pull away, but Leon’s got you cornered against the stove. “Come on, baby.” He goads, wrapping big fucking arms around your middle and pulling you in. “Why?”

You’d look at him as if he grew two heads if you could. “Because she’s my mom. Cause she’s your wife. You fucked her before me.”

He snorts in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Is that jealousy I hear, baby?”

You growl in annoyance, turning off the heat. “Don’t ‘baby’ me.”

Dad smiles against your face. “You sound just like your mother.” Of course this motherfucker isn’t bothered by it. “Just like her too.” He pats your ass. “In some ways, at least.” A wet kiss on your neck.

You make an unhappy noise, aiming an elbow at his ribs. “Focus, dad, Jesus fucking Christ. You can’t just fuck me every time we have a disagreement.” It’s not really a disagreement, he thinks you’re all in your head again. Got that from mom too.

Dad freezes, then withdraws, turning you to face him with the hands on your sides. “I’m sorry. Promise I’ll be serious.” Leon takes a hand and kisses it, keeping a hold of it like a bridge between you.

You huff, only slightly mollified by him. “You don’t feel… you’re not bothered by it?”

Leon’s eyes study you for a while, brows slowly furrowing. “I love you. Lots and lots, baby. What—“ he holds your hand a little tighter. “what we have, what we do, is only a natural extension of that.”

When you’re silent again, he reels you in, his fish on a line and hook in your cheek. “The royals did that, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, and Prince Phillip was a ghastly looking beast.” You mutter, pressing your ear to his heart. Dad snorts above you.

Hear that? That beats for you. Used to beat for mom, but he got a new one just for his precious girl.

“And Nicholas the second’s son had that blood disorder because of it.” That’s probably not true, but also could be true, who knows.

Divine punishment, like in a One Hundred Years of Solitude when that kid was born with the pig tail after generations of inbreeding. The entire settlement in Venezuela got wiped from the face of the earth for that. Rocks fall, everyone dies.

Lot’s daughters raped him. His wife got turned into a pillar of salt because she looked back after they fled Sodom and the girls never got any comeuppance.

He smooths a palm over your head. “Honey, Alexandra also had the same problem. So did at least two of the daughters.”

“But we don’t know.” You look up at him and frown.

Dad pouts down at you too before kissing you. “Your mom is always in my heart.” He says once he’s pulled away, wiping a bit of his spit from the corner of your mouth. “And so are you. She’d want me to be happy.”

You hold back a snarky comment, only giving him a look. Leon shrugs and straightens up. “Is that all it was, babydoll?”

You nod after a moment and he pats you on the ass again. “Better?”

You suppose so, you’re not really sure.

You feel a little like everyone knows when they look at you. Like Girl, Interrupted when Angelina Jolie looks at Brittany Murphy’s character and tells her everyone knows her dad rapes her, but what they—we—all missed is that she likes it.

Liked. Likes. Same difference, honestly. All that matters is that she—you—liked what her dad did to her. Rape.

God, what if his coworkers found out? Incest is a felony in most states. You and him go in the clinker, and everyone knows what happens in prison showers.

There are some things better kept between family.

Your dad loves you, you know he does. You love him too, even if everyone else is weirded out about it. He needed a relic of mom’s around, and what are you if not that?

Cum is thicker than water, in that sense.

[its-all-papaya]

okay for the prompt ask game: landoscar, the most cliche thing: only one bed, and getting together - go!

only one bedddd MY LOVE. I ADORE making the boys CUDDLE.

tell me what you wish I'd write

I will set the scene: Lando and Oscar are in their second year as teammates, now, and they’re proper friends, right? Much closer than they were the year before. Time to…. meet the family?

snippet enclosed at the end under the break just fyi :,)

Meddling Nicole. We know now that she will canon throw her son under the bus and expose him for a little laugh. She also knows that Oscar has been maybe a little obsessed with Lando for years, and getting to know him as a teammate has not dulled Lando’s shine for Oscar at all. He’s actually worse. Tries to be really lowkey about it, not bringing up Lando too often, only mentioning him when he feels it’s relevant, but Nicole can tell by the change in his voice when he talks about Lando, the way he edges Lando into conversations he doesn’t really NEED to be in. Anyway. A few weeks ahead of the Australian GP she’s on a call with Oscar and is like “You should bring Lando round when he’s here, honey. Have him stay a night, we’d love to meet him properly.” And Oscar is like… oh. uh. Yeah. Sure.

In what world is Lando going to say no to Oscar on that when Oscar’s got his soft Lando Smile on and he’s like “just for a night, my mom really wants you to”?

The day after the race perhaps? Because Lando podiums and Carlos wins so they go out and Lando is perhaps a little hungover and cranky when he arrives, but immediately goes soft for Oscar. He’s headachy and tired and reaches for Osc as soon as he’s in the doorway, wrapping his free arm around Oscar’s back and resting in the hug for a long, long second. They’re speaking in soft little private voices to one another and giggling and Oscar is smiling his hopeless, besotted smile, and Lando’s eyes are sparkling even through the hangover exhaustion. And then “Lando, so glad you could make it!” and they spring apart and Lando rubs at his cheek with his palm and Oscar rolls his eyes at his mum and gives Lando a little squeeze around the wrist as apology.

“Let me take your bags, Oscar can show you around a bit and you can get some lunch in you.”

They’d hang out all day, maybe with Oscar’s sisters (who love Lando obviously bc they can all team up on Oscar together), perhaps kicking around outside or whatever.

Dinner has Meet the Family (tm) vibes where Oscar’s parents are quizzing Lando about his own family and racing and how Oscar is at work. And maybe there’s some food Lando doesn’t eat and he feels really bad and is stressed but Oscar is like “you don’t have to eat that. Mum, I told you Lando doesn’t eat seafood.” Very Romantic. Very Domestic.

Afterwards, they all convene in the living room to play a game or something and Lando doesn’t understand the rules and doesn’t have the attention span to learn so he’s like “I’ll just be on a team with Oscar.” Except he’s really just leaning into Oscar’s side, looking at the cards but mostly just Oscar’s hands, and watching Oscar play. Eventually he kind of catches the gist and makes a suggestion about something right at Oscar’s ear, lips brushing skin, and the move… works? And Oscar is like “thanks, mate” all soft and Lando is like “I’d say we make pretty good teammates, yeah? someone should hire us that way” and yawns and smirks at the way it makes everyone giggle.

Eventually Lando starts nodding off against Osc’s shoulder, everyone’s talking and laughter warm around him. After it sticks, Lando’s cheek smushed against Oscar’s bicep, Oscar’s hand curled around Lando’s knee, Nicole goes “you should take that one to bed, honey, he looks exhausted.” And Oscar is like… simply why would you phrase it like that? but “okay, is he staying in the guest room?” and Nicole is like “oh! did I not tell you? we’ve got your grandmother there. huh. could have sworn I told you this. I figured Lando could just bunk with you, hope that’s alright!” and Oscar is like... well. I’m not going to make him sleep on the COUCH 24 hours after a race.

So he wakes Lando up sooooo gently and Lando blinks soft and sleepy and a little frowny because he was cozy there, actually. And everyone else feels like they’re intruding, as is prone to happen around Lando and Oscar.

Oscar apologetic explaining the situation, but Lando just shrugs and stretches and follows him up the stairs, because it won’t be the first time he’s fallen asleep in the same bed as a teammate, probably.

Oscar’s childhood bedroom hasn’t changed much since he left for boarding school, and Lando perks up once they get there so he can poke fun of Oscar about the posters and the knickknacks on his desk. And Oscar’s blushy and laughing and a little defensive, but mostly just fond fond fond having Lando in this part of his life.

They brush their teeth side by side, elbows knocking, and it’s… so domestic. Overwhelming. Oscar is scared of how easily they move around each other, Lando’s hand on the small of his back as he sneaks by to grab his face wash from the bedroom where he’d forgotten it, Oscar handing over a towel to dry Lando’s face before Lando can even ask.

Oscar’s stressed that it’s going to be awkward when it comes time to actually get in bed, but Lando just tucks himself in against the wall and curls up on Oscar’s pillow. Oscar dilly dallies a bit, but Lando huffs and pats the bed and goes “Oscar,” drawing out the last syllable, “turn off the light and come to bed, I’m tired.”

Which. Does THINGS to Oscar. But Lando asked nicely, so he flips the switch and crawls in next to Lando.

They don’t touch at first. And Oscar’s bed is only a full, so it’s like… intentional. And that lasts a few minutes. But Lando whines and pats at Oscar’s side until Oscar says “what“ and Lando’s eyes are big and soft even in the dark and he says “‘m not very comfy” with a small little smile and Oscar is… only a man. So he lifts his arm up and lets Lando crawl happily under and settle against his chest with a contented sigh. And from there it’s easy to pet Lando’s hair and let Lando practically purr into his chest about it. SOFT. CUDDLY.

Lando falls asleep almost immediately because he’s still recovering from the night before. Oscar watches his eyelashes flutter prettily and toys with his curls and strokes the side of his cheek and just. Yearns. Because Lando fits so easily here in Oscar’s life. Everything felt so natural and right. Feels even more right now, with Lando in his bed, in his arms. So Oscar presses a little self-indulgent kiss to Lando’s forehead. Except the skin wrinkles beneath his lips and Lando’s fingers flex where they’re tucked against Oscar’s waist. Lando’s eyes crack open and he looks. so! soft! but Oscar’s heart is racing because he just really, really thought Lando was fast asleep.

SNIPPET‼️

Lando doesn’t look mad, but he doesn’t really look anything discernible at all in the dim light filtering through Oscar's window. Mostly he just looks sleepy. From a distance, Oscar hears the familiar sound of the air-con kicking on.

“‘s nice,” Lando says after too long, eyes fluttering back closed. There's a little smile turning the corners of his lips up and his nose twitches a little where it's rested above the collar of Oscar's loose pajama shirt. He doesn't normally wear one, but he'd figured, given the circumstances, that it would be best to.

Emboldened again, Oscar places another light kiss, just to the left of the first. Lando's smile grows with it, and he turns his face into Oscar's chest, like he's bashful about it. Oscar wonders, if he turned his bedside lamp on, whether Lando's cheeks would be pink with his attention.

"Keep going," Lando says. Mostly breath, eyes still shut.

"Yeah?" Oscar's not sure what they're doing, where they're going with it, but it's been 18 months and he hasn't learned how to say no to Lando yet, so he puts his lips next to Lando's eyebrow, on the bridge of his nose. He pauses after that, and when he breathes in, he swears he can taste his own toothpaste on Lando's exhale.

"Os-car," Lando sing-songs. Oscar doesn't think it's fair, how Lando gets to hide behind his eyelids while they do this. Whatever it is.

"Lando," he gives Lando a scratch between the shoulder blades, "look at me."

It's bolder than he normally is, bolder than he feels, still, but it gets Lando to crack his eyes open. Lando's still smiling, but it's a little tighter again.

Oscar's heart is beating hard. He remembers suddenly, absurdly out of place, that he'd lost his virginity in this bed. He thinks that was easier.

"Are we doing this?"

Lando's fingers twitch at his side. Oscar can't tell whether they're curling into his side or into Lando's own palm.

"I mean," he's at least properly awake again, "yeah. If you want to. I want to."

Oscar's pulse hasn't slowed down. It feels like a final flying lap, one shot to get everything just right.

"I want to," Oscar confirms, "But not just to do it."

"Like how?" Lando says. He props himself up on his arm so he's looking down at Oscar. Oscar's hand falls to the small of his back. Keeping him close.

"Like not just to kiss, or whatever. Like I want to because I like you. And you're important to me. So I don't want to make things weird if it's not like that for you."

Something changes in Lando's gaze, and Oscar thinks it should probably be a look he hasn't seen before, but instead it's familiar, the way it settles over both of them.

"Os-car," Lando says in that same tone from before, "I'm in your fucking twin bed. Your sisters added me to a group chat while you were at the bathroom this afternoon. I learned a card game for you." He lifts his free hand to run a thumb under Oscar's eye, "It's weirder that I've done all that before we got here."

Oscar thinks that's a yes, but he has to be sure, so he catches Lando's fingers in his hand and brushes his lips over them.

"So?" Oscar says.

"So," says Lando, "your mum is going to be so happy when you tell her."

Like qualifying on pole. Like coming home. Lando kisses him.

And then every member of Oscar's family teases them endlessly and it's sooooo fluffy and cute and domestic xoxo the end

[lixzey]

Letters

a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The last four letters will be the same, so heads up!

warnings: mentions of panic attacks, fighting, mention of a gun, slightly detailed murder, mention of a lot of blood, police officers, ambulances, implied post-traumatic stress disorder, trauma, and foster homes

The Fourteenth Letter

As soon as the plane landed, Timothée quickly made his way off of the plane—he was practically pushing through passengers just so he could make his way out—he had no time left to lose; he needed to find Y/n as soon as possible. Timothée was, without a doubt, scared. He wasn’t sure what would be waiting for him at the address he had in his hands.

What if he had the wrong address? What if the place was long gone? What if….Timothée couldn’t even bear to think about the worst-case scenario—even if it was possible. What if’s and maybe’s were scattered throughout his mind. Timothée wanted to think positively—that she was alright, safe, and sound at least—but those negative thoughts were inevitable, given the contents of Y/n’s letters.

Timothée sighed, running a shaky hand through his curls as he strolled to the airport’s exit. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he scanned the area for the car his manager had arranged for him, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what could be. 

When he finally spotted his ride, Timothée stepped in and gave the driver the address, urging the driver to drive as fast as he legally could. The driver looked at him skeptically, eyebrows knitted in confusion, but nonetheless did as Timothée asked. As the car weaved through the crowded city streets, Timothée’s phone rang all of a sudden. The young actor sighed, picking up the call.

“Timmy, darling?” His mother’s voice spoke from the other line. “Where are you?” 

“I’m on my way to a friend's,” Timothée lied, staring out of the car window. 

“Oh, alright,” Nicole hummed, though Timothée felt like his mother knew that he was lying. “Anyway, there was a young woman looking for you just fifteen minutes ago.” 

Timothée’s brows knitted in confusion. “Looking for me? Who was it?”

“I didn’t catch her name, but she left a letter.”

Timothée’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of a letter. “A letter?” 

“Yes, a letter,” Nicole confirmed. “Like the last time.”

“The last time?”

“A basket of letters. Did you receive them?” Nicole asked. “I asked Pauline to drop it off at the hotel you were staying at in Paris, since she was going the same way.”

“Oh,” Timothée said, gaping at the realization. The letters were delivered to his childhood home, and his mother asked his sister to drop them off. But who delivered the letters? Was it Y/n? “Who delivered the basket, Mom?” 

“The basket was left on our doorstep, sweetheart,” Nicole replied, sending shivers down Timothée's spine.

It was possible that it was Y/n who delivered the letters, but she sent them. She had mentioned in a letter before that she had used all of her extra money for stamps and such, meaning she had sent them in the mail. How the hell did the letters get compiled? Who the hell sent them to him, if not Y/n? Why the fuck were the letters delivered too damn late?

Finally, the car pulled up to the address he had scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper, snapping Timothée out of his daze. He quickly thanked the driver and stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk, his eyes scanning the old run-down building with a large signage with Oregon Sweet Angels Children’s Home written in peeling red paint on a fading yellow background.

Timothée took a step closer, peeking through the boarded windows for a sign of Y/n—or maybe a glimpse of what was inside, of old photos hanging on the walls, or if there was anything else left that could lead him to her, as it was obvious that the children’s home was long forgotten. 

The actor sighed as he sat on the steps of the old building, disappointed at the fact that he had traveled forty hours for nothing. Maybe it was stupid of him to assume that he could find her; he had received the letters too late.

Taking a deep breath, Timothée fished the fourteenth letter from his pocket. “Fourteenth, four more left.”

August 15, 2023

Dear Timothée, 

I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had a panic attack this bad since……

I heard a loud, echoing gunshot from outside of my apartment, and I just froze in place. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and couldn’t think. Because a gunshot tossed me back into the system for the remaining years of my childhood—if I could even call that a childhood.

It was the summer before I started high school.

My aunt still treated me like shit, the bare minimum, and all that. CPS still came by every week, making sure I was happy—I wasn’t—and healthy. It was annoying to act like I was okay, that everything was alright, and that there wasn't anything wrong when clearly there was. But who was I to complain? I was the orphan forced to be raised against the only family I had left's will. In everyone else's eyes, I was happy and loved. But not one of them bothered to look behind the damn curtains.

I constantly stayed in my room, making sure the door was locked and my headphones were right beside my bed.

Why, you ask?

It's because my aunt brought home a man, her fiancé; let's call him Leo. 

It's not that I didn't like Leo—he was kind, he always gave me books, and we'd bond over our shared love for literature—but they always fought. It wasn't like normal fights; they would yell, they would scream, and it involved a lot of hitting and breaking things—courtesy of my aunt, I suppose, because she was the only unhinged person I've ever known. Their fights would always revolve around cheating; my aunt constantly accused Leo of cheating when he didn't. He was loyal, even though my aunt wasn't the best pea in the pod. Leo loved her, but my aunt kept on looking past that, always believing things he wasn't even capable of doing.

I was honestly scared that Leo would one day realize that my aunt was not the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Leo was like a second father to me; he said he sees me as his own and that he'd love to adopt me once he and my aunt got married.

But all that never happened. 

I was sitting in my room, reading peacefully, when I heard them fighting again. At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it because their fighting was practically normal at that point, and I was used to it by then. I shook it off to the side and put my headphones on, but before I even got to play the song from my playlist, I heard a loud, deafening echo of a gunshot from the living room downstairs. I quickly got up; my ears were ringing and my vision blurred as I held the doorknob, opening it with shaking hands. I stepped out of my room, slowly creeping down the stairs, peeking over the railings.

The first thing I saw was Leo.

Lying in a pool of his own blood, slowly dying.

I stood there, frozen. The sight of the wound on the left side of his chest, where the bullet pierced through, sucked the air right out of my lungs. The white Persian rug underneath Leo’s pale and lifeless body absorbed the blood, staining it completely and making my mind blank out. All I could hear was the loud firing of the gun, taking Leo’s life in an instant, that easily.

My aunt stood there, the gun still in her shaking hands, as she stared down at her fiancé’s body, realizing what she had just done was not reversible. She didn’t notice me approaching Leo’s body. I wanted to scream at her; I wanted to charge at her and hit her again and again for killing the only person I had left who cared and loved me after I lost everything that I’ve ever known. But I just stood there as tears flowed down my cheeks, feeling hollow and broken inside—the first time I ever felt that way. After what felt like an eternity, my aunt finally looked up at me—the gun against her forehead—and before I could utter a word, she fired the gun, taking her own life just as easily as she took Leo’s.

I fell onto my knees as the ringing of the gunshot replayed again and again in my ears like a fucking merry-go-round, choking out sobs as I stared at the lifeless bodies in front of me. I didn’t know what to do. Again, I wanted to scream and shout, but nothing came out of my throat other than raspy breaths. I knelt there like an idiot for what felt like forever, wondering what I did to fucking deserve this. How the fuck could anyone hurt a little kid? 

Eventually, I grabbed the phone—Leo’s phone—from the coffee table and dialed 911 with my hands shaking. A little while later, the police and ambulances arrived, and immediately one of the RMTs rushed towards me. I was still kneeling in front of Leo’s body, so the RMT wrapped me in her arms and slowly escorted me out to one of the ambulances. I was shaking and sweating while one of the police officers who responded asked me questions about what happened.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t. 

The scene kept replaying itself again and again. I just kept on crying silently, until the RMT who took me out of the house said it was better to take me to the hospital first to recover from the trauma, and a psychiatrist would be better given what I had to witness. I just sat there until I saw bodies getting loaded into the other two ambulances—Leo and my sorry excuse for an aunt’s bodies—in black body bags. I never, ever expected that I’d see someone I loved die in front of my eyes again. First my parents, then Leo.

I was then whisked away to the nearest hospital. The hospital where I woke up three years prior. I was back to square one, now a literal orphan. No more family. 

I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. I spent a week in the hospital, crying and crying again and again until I ran out of tears. Psychiatrists, therapists, nurses, and doctors all tried to help me open up, but none of them were ever successful.

After my stay at the hospital, I was thrown into foster care—Oregon Sweet Angels Children’s Home—for good this time. I spent my first few days stuck in bed; I didn’t have the energy to mingle with the other kids my age—I was thirteen, turning fourteen in a few months at that time—no one wants a broken girl for a friend, and it’s sure as hell that no one wants to adopt a teen who has nightmares each and every goddamn night.

Now, the trauma’s haunting me. Every fucking time, and this one isn’t all of it.

I’m all alone now. 

My parents died, Leo got murdered, Ava moved out, and Julie’s moved to another state. Who do I have left now, Timmy? Do I have you? I'm scared that everyone I’ll love will leave me. You weren’t even mine to begin with, but I’m still scared to lose you. 

I've been praying again and again for somebody to save me—a knight in shining armor, for all I care—but no one’s been heroic enough. All that I did to try to undo it, all of my pain, and all their excuses. I was a kid, but I wasn't fucking clueless. At eleven, I understood that someone who loves you wouldn't do any of this. All of my past, I tried to erase it. But now I see, would I even change it?

What was I fucking made for?

All my love, 

Y/n

Timothée felt his heart clench, tears pricking his eyes, threatening to fall as he finished reading the fourteenth letter. Y/n had been through so much, so fucking much. She was just a little girl—a little girl who had already gone through hell and back again and again. Timothée felt his stomach twist with guilt, even though it wasn’t his fault.

Or was it?

Had he received all of her letters earlier, Timothée would've reached out to her sooner. She had been so alone and traumatized for years, living through a nightmare that a child should never have to experience. Timothée pressed the letter to his chest, wiping away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks with one hand. He stood up, tucking the letter back in its envelope and putting it back in his pocket. 

Timothée took a deep breath, turning around to take one last look at the children’s home—the place where Y/n spent four years of her life alone—before making his way back to the car that was waiting for him.

He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to find Y/n, he was going to be the hero she desperately needed, and he wasn’t going to stop until he did.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @zunin-msty @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4ana @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @lilmaymayy @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @thefriendlyneighborhoodmomfriend

[snugglyducklingbrewhouse]

we play with fire because we like the way it burns

a mob boss!Nico x nurse!fem!reader au

Luke, Lilly, and the Tree

Warnings: arguing, this is a mob au, death threat, mentions of death and injury and stabbing and bleeding and suicide (no suicidal ideation but a mention or two of it), derogatory nickname (a stretch but it’s there), an almost physical fight, Jack being a jackass

A/n: this is purely based on a scene from castle season 2 episode 1. I wanted to use a very specific quote, so I finally did. I’ve been planning on using this since Luke was still at umich but I didn’t get around to writing something until now. Enjoy!

“Luke! Get your ass down here, now!” Nico barked at the young mobster.

“I’m stuck!” Luke yelled back.

“Get unstuck!” Nicole continued to yell. “I don’t have time for this. Get down here, now!”

“If I move, I may fall, and I don’t want to die!” Luke wailed.

At that point, you and a few of the other mobsters trickled out of the bar to see what the commotion was about.

“You should have chosen a higher jumping point!” You called out. “You’d want to kill yourself, not cripple yourself.”

You got an array of shocked and “not helping” faces in response.

“I don’t want to die!” Luke wailed some more.

“Why the fuck are you in a tree?” Jack spoke up finally, voicing what everyone was thinking.

“There was a cat, wasn’t there?” You asked, already knowing the answer because it was Luke and the cat that liked to hang out around the bar for some reason.

“Lilly climbed up and looked stuck, so I climbed after her, but then she ran away from me and climbed down,” Luke told you.

“I told you no more strays,” Jack yelled at him. “Look what happened with one of them.”

Jack was gesturing at you.

You instantly grew annoyed and frustrated.

“I am not a stray!” You move to get closer to Jack so you could punch him or stomp on his foot.

Before you could, a strong pair of arms stopped you.

“You are not injuring him,” Nico said, holding you back.

“Let go of me!” You try to wriggle free. “I am not a stray! Lemme hurt him!”

“You’re a nurse, you should be trying to help people and not trying to hurt them,” Nico tried reasoning with you.

You started to settle down so he would let go of you.

As soon as his arms dropped, you practically sprinted at Jack.

“Oh not again,” Nico said as he stopped you once again. “You are not going to hurt him.”

“I will resign as your nurse if you don’t let me go!” You threaten, even though it was an empty threat.

“You wouldn’t,” Nico narrowed his eyes.

“Try me,” you bit back.

Out of ear shot, Dawson turned to Jack.

“Luke’s stuck in a tree, mom and dad are fighting, feels like old times.”

While you and Nico were going back and forth, the real reason you were all outside not so nicely spoke up.

“Hey guys,” Luke started. “Can someone actually help me? I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. My arms are tired.”

You and Nico stopped your arguing and turned to Luke.

“You’re gonna need to place you feet on a sturdy branch and climb down, like a rock wall,” you offer.

“Yeah and fall to the pavement,” Jack cracked a joke.

“I will stab you in the liver, where you will slowly bleed out until you die,” you threaten him without a beat.

Jack quickly stopped talking and quickly apologized.

This was going to be a long evening.

[devastator1775]

Experiencing the joy of being new parents, but your baby won't go to sleep

Summary: Uzi and N need sleep, but their baby daughter Nix has different plans. Also found on AO3!

Uzi stirred in her sleep as something was rousing her from her dreams. Uzi groaned as she groggily opened her eyes. Was their daughter crying? She buried her face in her pillow. She’d just done a double shift at the clinic and had been so exhausted when she got home. She had greeted her husband N, hugged their pill baby Nicole and gone straight to bed to recharge. She literally didn’t have enough energy to deal with their newborn right now. She’d happily spend the entire next day with Nicole playing and being a mom after she’d had a full recharge cycle.

“Babe, your daughter is crying…” Uzi muttered in her pillow as she reached out to slap her husband face to wake him up …only to slap a whole lot of matrass and nothing much else. She lifted her face from her pillowy goodness and raised an eyebrow as she saw that N had already left. Without making any noise? She blinked in confusion. “N is quick, but not that quick. And certainly not that quiet…”

With a bit of effort, she pushed herself out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown, putting it on as she walked out the bedroom toward their daughter’s room. She already could see a dim light through the crack of the door. She quietly pushed it open a bit so she could see through it. The sight inside brought a smile to her face.

Sitting on a chair, holding their daughter and smiling brightly, was N. Little Nicole was in his arms, giggling and chirping at her father while he was singing a lullaby at her.

N sang softly as he gently rocked their baby around. “Are you sleeping, are you sleeping My Nicole? My Nicole? Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing.”

“Ding-ding-dong, ding-ding-dong.” Uzi finished softly as she walked into the room.

N looked up with a soft smile. “Oh-oh, mommy is awake. Now we’re both in trouble.” He looked down at his daughter, who giggled, making little chirps as she rocked around.

“Oh, my little angel is never in trouble and neither are you …if you’re gonna be a good boy.” Uzi greeted N with a kiss on the cheek as she sat down on the armrest. “You got here quick…”

N cocked his head with a mildly confused look. “Quick? I’ve been here for …” A timer appeared on his screen, showing [19min23sec]. “-almost 20 minutes.”

A question mark appeared on Uzi’s visor screen, making N chuckle. “Hadn’t she been crying just now?”

“She was earlier. You needed the sleep, so I took care of it. ” N admitted. He looked down at Nicole with a grin. “Just a widdle exhaust buildup that was bothering her, wasn’t it, Nicole?”

Uzi giggled as Nicole replied with chirps and whistles.

“And for the past 20 minutes I’ve been trying to get her back to sleep.” He tickled Nicole’s belly. “But she hasn’t been quite cooperative, haven’t you? No, you’ve been having too much fun laughing at daddy’s face, haven’t you?”

Nicole let out a long chirp, the eyes on her tiny visor showing delight.

“Well, you’ve got a very laughable face, N. But, I could’ve sworn …” Now that Uzi was thinking about it, she hadn’t really heard anything. She’d just …woken up and instantly thought her daughter needed her. “I swear, I heard her crying. I must’ve imagined it.”

“Seems to me that someone’s motherly instincts were ringing.” N said with a grin. “Guess you felt that someone needed her momma. Speaking of which, wanna take a crack at getting her to sleep?”

“Always.” Uzi held out her arms, smiling as N promptly handed over their daughter. “Hi there, little Sparkplug.”

She giggled as Nicole’s eyes became angry and a disapproving buzz emanated from her tiny frame. “Oh, still not liking that nickname, Nicole?”  

“Actually, I’ve been trying out some pet names for her and –“ He leaned in closer to Uzi’s audio receivers and whispered something.

Uzi’s grin grew, giving N a soft look. “N, that’s perfect!” She looked down at her little girl. “Little Nix…”

The pill baby let out a series of delighted chirps and thrills, little hearts flowing on her screen.

“I think she likes it.” N commented. “Hiya, Nix.”

Another series of chirps came from the droneling. Uzi giggled, resting her head on her husband’s shoulder as she gazed lovingly at her little Nix. A flurry of warm feelings fell over her as she looked into her daughter’s eyes. That same warmth she felt whenever N was with her.

She never knew she would ever experience that warmth. When she was young, she was certain she’d go offline alone and unloved …or dismembered by a Murder Drone. Who knew she’d ended up marrying one? Having a child with him? Being happy with them?

Especially after …

Her thoughts drifted to hers and N’s shared past; to the things they’ve gone through. The horrors, the discoveries, the pain ….

“She doesn’t have it, Uzi.”

Uzi let out a soft gasp, roused from her dark thoughts. She looked up at N, who was giving her a stern, but reassuring look. “I didn’t say anything…”

“Your eyes say it all.” N caressed her cheek, grinning as Uzi leaned in closer to his touch. “After …everything, Tessa gave our codes a thorough examination, twice. She didn’t find any trace of Solver strings in our coding. She didn’t find any in Nicole too.”

“I know, I know. It’s just ….” Uzi sighed wistfully, clenching her eyes shut. “I don’t want her to go through the same shi- ….things we went through. I don’t want her to have to deal with eldritch being, evil AI, corporate sects, mutations and powers. I want her to have friends, go to parties, become the very best at school, find someone that will love her. I want us to be her parents that love and adore her.”

“Well, I don’t know if we can do anything about those first things, but …” N cupped Uzi’s cheek and planted a kiss on the other. “That last part she will have for certain.”

“It’s just …” Uzi looked down at Nix, who stared back at her with big eyes. She took a deep breath. “What if we mess up? What if we – I – can’t be the parent she needs us to be? It’s not like we have many good role models to take examples off. I didn’t have a mom and while I know my dad loved me and wanted the best for me, but his sense of duty towards the protection of the colony didn’t leave much sense of duty for raising his daughter. I mean, you know how I was…”

“I believe you called yourself ’an angsty, teenage rebel with crippling daddy issues’?” N replied with a grin, chuckling as Uzi stuck her tongue out at him.

“And you saw how Tessa’s parents treated her.” Uzi continued, her thoughts going back to the memories she had seen of Tessa’s and the Disassembly Drones’ collective past. “They were …awful!”

“So, we have clear examples of how not to raise our child.” N said. He wrapped an arm around Uzi’s shoulders and pulled her against him. “Listen, I get it, Uzi. Never in my wildest dreams I could imagine that I, of all drones, would end up having a family. Sure, we’re new at this. We’re learning. Chances are, we’re gonna mess it up from time to time. But you know why I know you and I can make this work?”

“Because we are the ‘dapper buddies’?” Uzi answered with a smirk.

“Precisely!” N replied with a big grin. His eyes darted down, his wide grin changing to a warm smile. He looked up at Uzi, giving her a reassuring smile. “You know, there’s no doubt in my mind you’re gonna make an amazing mom, Uzi.”

“How can you be sure?”

N’s eyes darted down again and brought his voice down to a whisper. “Because I’ve been trying to get Nix to fall asleep for over 20 minutes and you’ve held her for less than 5.”

Uzi looked down and the sight beholden to her filled her core with warmth and other motherly feelings as she noticed that Nix had fallen asleep in her arms. The little visor showed the message [Sleep Mode. Maximum adorableness enabled.] and little ‘Zzzzz’s drifting up and down her screen.

“Uzi Doorman, you are a natural parent.” N reaffirmed, planting a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

Uzi giggled softly as she hopped of the armchair and walked over to Nix’s charging cradle. She hummed a lullaby as she gently plugged her into the charging port. She planted a gentle kiss on the top of her baby’s head. “Good night, little Sparkplug.”

Her core purred as she watched her N pull Nix’s wolf-adorned blanket over her and kissed her goodnight as well. They tiptoed it out of the baby room and back to their own. The moment the they closed the door behind them, Uzi jumped up in N’s arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and proceeded to passionately kiss him, which the latter eagerly accepted.

“And what did I do to deserve such a sweet treat?” N asked when Uzi finally released her hold on the former’s lips.

“For being an amazing husband and an amazing father.” Uzi giggled as she played with the buttons of N’s PJ vest. “So …you wanna play around with each other for a bit, hmm? Like we used too?”

N grinned and kissed her with the same passion she had shown earlier. “Very tempting, but …I think we better catch up on some sleep. You look like you really need it.”

“Oh, thank Robo-God….” Uzi let out a sigh of visible relief and buried her face in N’s shoulder, making the latter chuckle as he patted her back. “I think sleep deprivation has my reasoning subroutines on the fritz….”

“I’m keeping that offer in my back pocket, though.” N half-joked as he carried his wife to their bed.

“You better…” Uzi mumbled tiredly as she kissed his cheek. “And when we do, it’s gonna be awesome….”

“Undoubtedly, Uzi.” N chuckled, gently placing his wife into the bed and crawling in next to her. He lifted up an arm so Uzi could snuggle up against him. Uzi wrapped one arms over him, resting her head on his chest.

“N?”

“Yah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Soon, the two young parents drifted off to sleep.

Until they were woken up a couple of hours later by Nix crying, who felt like she had slept enough.

Oh, the joy of being new parents.

[liviavanrouge]

Isabelle

Lycaon: What...

Corin: Stellia is in a Hollow that appeared!

Rina: We don't know what happened..all we know is that someone saw her but were unable to reach her..

Ellen: She's gotten herself into trouble again...

Lycaon: And her due date is today, we must hurry-

Wise: *Hurries in* We found her! She's safe but you all should hurry!!

Lycaon: *Nods and runs off*

~~~~

Stellia: *Grips her scarf, doing her breathing exercise*

Belle: You got it! Keep going!

Stellia: I'm so tired and dizzy...

Belle: It's okay, take a quick breather and calm yourself..

Pepper: *Nods to Belle, a medical bag beside her*

Belle: Oh...we got trouble..

Pepper: *Looks back, her eyes wide* Ethereals!

Stellia: *Grips Pepper's hand, tears starting to fall*

Belle: I'll...I'll distract them, you focus on Stellia-

???: *Shocks the Ethereals, gaining their attention*

Rina: *Smiles, flying away as the Ethereals chased her* Over here, dears!

Corin and Ellen: *Leaps down onto the Ethereals, keeping them distracted*

Lycaon: Stellia!!

Belle: *Looks over the edge* She's alright, Lycaon!

Pepper: *Nods to Stellia, breathing with her* You're doing great..

Lycaon: *Looks around then hurries away, climbing up several stacked crates and items*

Belle: *Sits on her knees beside Stellia, nodding to her* Almost there!

Lycaon: *Climbs up, Belle grabbing his hand*

Belle: Good thing you-

Lycaon: *Freezes, hearing small cries* Huh...

Pepper: *Chuckles, holding a small baby* Hello, little missy...aren't you adorable..

~~~

Wise: *Chuckles, smiling as he watched through the Bangboo*

Nicole: AWWWW!

Billy: Such a cute little girl! Oh yes she is!

Nekomata: She's just adorable!

~~~

Stellia: *Smiles as Pepper passed the baby to her* Hello Isabelle...

Lycaon: *Leans down, smiling slightly* She's so tiny...

Stellia: Here..you hold her..

Lycaon: *Perks up as Stellia passed Isabelle to him, fixing his arms to hold her*

Belle: *Reaches down, helping Corin climb up*

Corin: *Gasps, her eyes lighting up* Oh...

Rina: Oh my, she's lovely..

Ellen: I can agree...she's cute..

Isabelle: *Smiles, cuddling closer to Lycaon*

Belle: *Chuckles, Pepper standing beside her* Luckily I was helping you see if there were any injured people..

Pepper: *Nudges Belle, chuckling* Indeed, this lovely moment wouldn't have happened without you

Pepper: We shouldn't stay here for too long, let's hurry out of here

Lycaon: *Nods, passing Isabelle back to Stellia* I'll carry you..

Stellia: *Gasps as Lycaon lifted her up then chuckles, leaning against him*

Corin: L-Let's hurry!

Pepper: *Nods and carefully climbs down*

~~~

Wise: *Sighs* Mission accomplished..

Billy: Oh I wove the widdle baby! She's so beautiful, JUST LOOK AT HER!!

Nicole: We get it, Billy, but I have to admit she's ADORABLE! Look at the widdle ball of fluff!

Wise: *Sighs, chuckling* She certainly took after her father in appearance but she has her mom's eyes

Wise: *Leans back relieved* All ends well...

@queen-of-twisted

[nikkiruncks]

Kid preferences, via In The Meantime

Eric: He doesn’t exactly have a preference exactly, but is a lot closer with Leia and Mia than Nicole. Nicole is stubborn like him (but 10x more and way less of a doormat), which causes them to butt heads a lot.

Donna: Leia and Nicole. In season 1 & 2, it’s shown that she has a very close bond with Leia. And with Nicole, they’re both feminists, strong-willed, don’t care what others think, so it’s safe to say they get along really well.

She also has a close bond with Mia, who is a feminist and stands up for what she believes in, like her. But Mia has the closest bond with Kitty.

Jackie: Reggie. She’s a toxic boy mom to him.

She and Kat don’t have a bad relationship, but Jackie can have a hard time understanding her.

Hyde: Kat. He has a good bond with Reggie, but Kat’s a daddy’s girl.

Kelso: This is a lot more complicated. Maybe equally.

Fez: He doesn’t have kids (yet, maybe)

-> based off @einsteinsugly's post

[snekverse]

more dante more dante fuel my obsession

dantes relationships with the others? :>>

Oooo good question :0

I'm gonna make this mystreet exclusive lol if you want mcd you're just gonna have to send another ask >:3c

Nova: much like in mcd, regards her almost like a little sister, although that's a relatively recent change. In high school, when he was much closer with Garroth and Laurance, he was way more focused on playing wingman for them, and as such tended to accidentally treat her more like some kind of prize. He's doing his best to make up for it now though <3

Aaron: sorry danron fans but these two do NOT interact, not in my heart (or my rewrite).. they don't have a huge amount in common, and before becoming close to Nova Aaron was a completely closed book, so there's no really reason for this two to really know each other. As such I think dante would have super neutral opinions about him

Garroth and Laurance: close friends, but not as close as they were in high school.. as teens they were quite the trio, but most people's focus was always on Garroth (rich) and Laurance (charming), and not usually on him. It definitely affected his view of himself, and after becoming friends with Travis and Aphmau he started to distance himself from the others.

Travis: literally best friends, inseparable, attached at the hip and have been since high school lol. So attached at the hip, in fact, that they are constantly pushing the boundaries of a platonic relationship, always hugging and cuddling, sharing beds and stealing a few kisses, all they need to make it official is the label lol. They won't though, because while they are EXTREMELY close there's no real romantic feelings between them

Zane: pretty bad opinion of him in hs, and he kept that same view well into adulthood until Nova finally insisted that Zane was a good guy at heart. Nothing changed between them immediately, but Dante did open up to the possibility of change. Now a days he's got a pretty neutral opinion of Zane, leaning towards good. He still things Zane's cold, but he does understand what Nova sees in him :)

Katelyn: really respected her as teens, but as they've gotten older he's found he has less tolerance for her. Her treatment of Travis grates on his nervous, and while he understands why she defends Nicole with her life he really wishes that didn't involve talking down to him

Lucinda: he's genuinely terrified by her lol. She's gorgeous and intelligent and powerful, and it intimidates him a lot. He respects her a lot for it, despite how nervous she makes him, and does his best to stay in her good graces

Nana: he didn't used to ever really pay attention to her, but lately she's been catching his eyes and he's developed a lil crush 👀 he's incredibly nervous about asking her out though, given his previous dating history and her proximity to Katelyn. He doesn't wanna risk repeating what happened with Nicole with Nana

Nicole: his first love, the two have had a very rocky on-again-off-again relationship throughout the latter parts of high school, college, and even early adulthood. They broke it off again early in s1 on somewhat negative terms, and he tries not to dwell on how much he misses her

Gene: looks up to him a lot, even though he knows perfectly well that Gene got up to some shady shit back in the day. Their mom was always busy trying to support them as kids, and their father dipped shortly after he was born, so he's always considered Gene the closest thing to a real parent he's ever had

Zenix and Sasha: he's friendly towards them, but to him they've always be Gene's friends rather than his own. He knows them pretty well however considering how frequently they were around growing up, and he's pretty proud of how the whole group has changed since school

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 119. brb x oc

a/n: rooster is the best husband. reblogs and comments are much appreciated <3 thank you,THANK YOU for liking my fic

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none.

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86/87/88

/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101/102/103/104/105

/106/107/108/109/110/111/112/113/114/115/116/117/118

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva

-

He watched her from the doorway, gray sweatpants on, a white tee stretched on his shoulders and a pleased little smile on his face as Beatrice busied herself by heating up their dinner. He allowed his eyes to drop towards the fullness of her ass and the way those pants hugged the curve beautifully.

He tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brows, was her ass a bit bigger? Not that he’d complain if it was because he loved her butt, but he couldn’t help but look at it for a while longer. She did become curvier after having Nikki,which he also couldn’t complain about, she looked like those Roman goddesses of old with that banging body of hers.

But he just looked for a little while, then tilted his head the other way, smirking when he could see the line of her thong underneath the fabric, “Is that red?”

“Huh?”

He nods towards her behind,”Is it red?”

Beatrice furrowed her brows in confusion, then looked down at herself thinking there was some stain or maybe she got her period and wasn’t prepared for it, until she saw the sliver of red peeking from under her pants and laughed, “Oh, well, yeah,yeah it is.” she giggles, pulling her pants a little bit higher, “It’s very comfortable.’

“It looks comfortable.” he adds, stepping closer to her so he could hug her from behind, kissing underneath her ear and smiling when she leaned against him, “And it looks great to take it off too.”

“Roos…”

“Not my fault my wife is hot.” he replies,kissing her jawline with his arms holding her tighter against his chest, “What are you heating up?”

“Some of the leftovers from last night: chicken alfredo and some garlic cheese bread my mom brought over. It’s fresh and I’m just heating it up for the crunch.” she explains, letting his lips touch her skin and grin when she felt the mustache tickle her neck,”You are very touchy tonight.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are.” she turns her head towards him,”Not that I’m complaining,I love when you get touchy.”

“I know you do.” he nuzzles her neck, inhaling the lavender scent and smirking when she giggled over his touch, “I love getting touchy with you…and I don’t think I have a reason tonight,maybe I’m just happy with how everything is going.” he begins, watching her stir the fettuccine in the pot and hearing Nicole babble from her bouncer not too far from them,” I have a really good life,baby. And I’m happy…I’m happy with you,with Nikki,with the dogs.” his hands slid down to her stomach, “And for whatever kids come after our baby girl,I swear.”

Beatrice had to clench the spoon when he mentioned that, immediately panicking thinking he saw the tests.

But he didn’t say anything,he just nuzzled even closer to her, humming deep in his chest and inhaling her scent once more, “I’m so happy to hear that Roos.” his thumb rubbed circles on her stomach and she tried to relax a bit more, he didn’t know why she was nervous so there was no reason to give that worry any more thought.

He stood there, behind her, hugging her close and smiling with his eyes closed as she moved around the stove and she bit her lower lip, his hands were almost protecting her stomach.  He didn’t know…but maybe he should.

She shouldn’t hide things from Rooster, that’s not how they relationship was.

But she was nervous and scared…so maybe, later, later they could talk about it.

“Baby.” his deep voice murmurs on her neck, face slowly lifting to press kisses to her cheek,”You look worried.”

“I don’t want to burn this.” she lies quickly, turning off the stove once she sees it bubbling and blinking down at the pot,”Yeah,I don’t want to burn this.”

Rooster hummed against her neck, his hands only moving now that she turned the stove off and there was no heat directed to her middle. Beatrice smiles as she feels them dragging away from her body, giggling at the love tap he gives each buttcheek before he steps back and kisses her nape,”I’m going to put Nikki up.” he says, bare feet touching the tiled floor as he approaches their daughter.

Beatrice looks over with her eyes soft, seeing how he gently picked their little girl up - always lifting her higher than his own height, just to make her giggle and make her feel like she’s flying- then bringing her down to kiss those chubby cheeks and earn the cutest,most lovely giggle a baby could give.

He was a good father.

A wonderful husband.

She was just scared….for some reason. Mainly the guilt, mainly the guilt of being pregnant so soon. Wanting or not, it was her responsibility, she told him it was okay, there was no need to worry about condoms or anything of the sort, she was taking care of herself.

She looks down at her navel, trying to once again see if there was any difference and of course there wasn’t, she still had her rolls and nothing else. Her pants were still comfortable and not tight at all. She sighed, rubbing her face with both hands before checking on the rest of her dinner.

She was so focused on herself she hadn’t seen Rooster watching, which he always did, he loved to watch her. His brown eyes following the way her green ones seemed to wander off to the side - a telltale sign of her own overthinking - and her eyebrows were low and the frown she wasn’t aware of was more prominent.

He wasn’t sure what was going on in her mind, he thought that it was a good day - after all she spent more of it out and about with Nicole and Shells. But he knew Beatrice way too well by now - four years together does that - and he knew when she was thinking too much, possibly blaming herself for something she had no control over.

“Baby,I can set everything up for dinner.” he says after Nicole is on her seat, babbling and slapping her little hands on the tray repeatedly,”You can stay with Nikki.”

“Oh,but I can-” he cuts her off by kissing her lips, her body relaxing and eyes fluttering because he had that power over her, when he pulls back with the softest smacking sound Beatrice only stared up at him with her pupils wide, “...okay…”

He smirks, stepping aside to let her pass - not before slapping her ass on the way - so he could take over for her. He still watched her before she sat down next to Nicole, their baby girl squealing happily once she noticed her mother was there now. “So.” he begins, opening the stove to check on their chicken and garlic bread, “How was your day? With Shells?”

He hears the ‘pop!’ of the baby food opening and Beatrice’s reply soon after, “Oh it was fine, we uh, had to buy some stuff for her. She always forgets to buy the simplest stuff.”

‘Yeah,I know,gorgeous…anything else happened?”

“Um…” he smiles when he hears Nicole’s ‘om nom nom’ - she genuinely makes that sound and he didn’t know how to react sometimes, their daughter was too precious - “No? I mean,we had ice cream and Nicole tried to get a bite but she can’t have milk until she’s older,I’m sorry Nikki.”

“Baah!”

“I know, it’s unfair.”

Rooster places the steaming chicken in the middle of their table with the garlic bread right next to it, licking his finger when some of the sauce clings on it, “Anything else?”

Beatrice flicks her gaze towards him - he could see the layer of nervousness already taking over, something did happen but she wasn’t ready to share with him yet- “No…not really. We just…had fun together, oh! Well,there was an accident with a Lamborghini when we left the grocery store and the guy was pissed and the cops were called. I think it even showed on TV, Shells saw the cameras,I didn’t.”

“Hmhm.”

“What?”

He purses his lips, leaning down to kiss her temple,”When you feel ready,” he begins,”To share with me what’s bothering you, you know you can.”

And she looked so guilty that he almost retracted his statement. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted, she was holding the spoon - now empty - close to Nicole’s mouth but her daughter’s little burbling and laughing only made her notice there was nothing there…at all, “...I…”

“Baby,” he says, warmly and so kind, “Baby, when you are ready. Don’t force it out yet, okay?”

“...okay,Roos.”

“Good,I love you pretty girl.” 

“I love you too.” 

He kissed her forehead before placing everything on the table, sitting down next to Beatrice and holding her hand once he was close enough.

-

She managed to grab her bag late that night - it took some squeezing and moving her hand under the couch,even some help from Jolene.- But she got it. She was in the dark,using only her phone as a source of light because Rooster was upstairs, in their bedroom and Beatrice used the excuse of needing a glass of water to get out of bed.

He was already half asleep and she thought…even if he said she could, she was still nervous. But she trusted him, but she also was nervous…but she loved him…

But she was nervous.

“This is so stupid.” she muttered, standing from her kneeling position with her bag held tightly against her chest, “This is so dumb, oh my God,I should just tell him.” she hoped her whispers weren’t that loud as she made her way up the stairs, saying goodbye to Jolene when she settled on the couch.

The light in their bedroom was still on, he kept it that way so she wouldn’t fumble around in the dark - god he was so sweet. She peeked inside for a second, blinking when she saw his bare back looking at her, rising and falling with the gentlest of snores breaking the silence in their bedroom, “...okay.” she carefully walked inside, setting the bag in the chair and carefully opening it.

She bites her lower lip, keeping an eye on him at every little noise she makes, managing to grab the three pregnancy tests with her teeth clenched. The boxes rubbed against one another and it was…unbelievably loud, but her husband didn’t wake up.

“If he does he’ll understand.” she whispers to herself, her eyes kept looking back at him to make sure he was still asleep.

Beatrice chews her lower lip, carefully patting over to the bathroom and shutting the door quietly behind her. She splayed the pregnancy tests in front of her and chewed the side of her thumb repeatedly, looking down at the three boxes as if it was the end of the world.

Do it,bambina, you know he won’t be mad.He loves you.

“And I love him.” she replies to her own thoughts, still looking down at the tests, turning one of the boxes back and forth before sighing heavily. She paces a bit in the bathroom, holding her temples, her night shirt smelling like him and normally it’d make her calm down but she couldn’t.

“Okay,” she stops,closing her eyes and tenting her hands, “Let’s…explain why I’m so nervous about this.” she inhales, pressing her fingers against her lips, “Why am i so scared? Let’s find reasons for it, because there is a reason, there’s always a reason.” Beatrice goes back to pacing, eyes still closed as she tries to find the words.

“First of: Nicole is young. She’s six months old, we planned more kids but only when Nikki was older.” she mutters, furrowing her brows, “Secondly: I was responsible for keeping up with my birth control, not Rooster. The reason I might be pregnant again has to be because I messed up and since I know myself,I’m already blaming every single second out of it.” she sighs again, rubbing her face, “Third: his job, he’s already stressed enough with Nicole, having more kids now it’s only going to make him more worried and so that can make him lose focus- okay that’s a lie, he’d never lose focus because of that…”

Beatrice frowned, “I think the first two make more sense.” she murmured, sighing heavily and leaning against the wall,sliding to the floor and thunking her head against the wall, interlacing her fingers between her thighs. She could see one of the boxes peeking over the edge of the sink, she knew she had to do it…but she was also scared, extremely so.

She was already blaming herself, she already had her own doubts…and yet she knew she had to do this.

“I’m going to.” she couldn’t wait for the holidays any longer too, she had to do this now and get this over with. She had her eyes closed, too lost in her own thoughts to hear the sounds from the outside.

She didn’t hear Rooster’s sleepy tone calling her name, nor heard his footsteps approaching the door, nor the knocking. Her husband stood outside, still blinking hard because of sleep and confused as to why she wasn’t answering, knocking one more time before asking if he could get inside.

Again, no answer.

And when there was no answer, Rooster’s mind went to the worst scenarios.

Again he says her name, this time turning the knob and wincing over the fluorescent lights above his head, “Jesus-Baby?”

“R-Rooster!”

He finally sees her, on the floor, quickly trying to pull herself upwards and almost lunging at the sink, in fact she did lunge at the sink, covering part of it with her upper body. He just blinked, still trying to understand what was going on, then rubbed his eyes with a tired grunt,’What’s happening?” he asks, trying to figure out why his wife was almost climbing on the sink.

Beatrice’s voice is gone but she tries to speak only for her mouth to open and close.While trying to adjust herself on the sink, she hears it.

A paper thud hitting the floor.

And both pairs of eyes slowly turn to the sound. The very large, very pink ‘PREGNANCY TEST’ looks back at them. She clenches her eyelids, only to open her eyes when she hears nothing but Rooster’s breathing, he’s still looking at the box, clearly confused, a mix of sleep and bewilderment in his face. ‘R-Roos.” she doesn’t stop him when he leans down to pick it up, holding it in his hands.

He turns the box once, then twice, then three times. Then rubs his eyes, blinks, and leans his head closer, “...is this…a pregnancy test or am I dreaming?”

“I…” she licks her lips, laughing nervously, “It’s… actually three.” she leans back from the sink to expose the other two boxes.

She clenches her hands tight enough for the knuckles to turn white, waiting for his reaction. Something, anything.

Rooster is still staring at the boxes, his eyes slowly focusing on her and she could see those brown irises becoming more alert, “...why do you have three pregnancy tests?” he was still sleepy, she knew that, because his voice was still slurred.

“I…” she rubs her hands, “I…didn’t get my period…and…and I’m feeling kinda sick…so…I-I think,I thought it’d be good to test it.”

“But…aren’t you on birth control shots?”

She tried not to wince, he wasn’t being accusatory, he was just curious when he asked her that, “...Yes,I mean,I…I am but,it could fail…I think.”

And silence fills the bathroom again. She’s not looking at him, too embarrassed and scared to, so she had to speak to cover up the sudden shame that was covering her right now, “I know it’s crazy,I know it is Roos. But it’s just to be sure. T-That’s all,I don’t really think I am but y-you know–”

“Baby.” he stops her rambling when he touches her shoulder, setting the box aside. She slowly looks up at him, seeing those whisky colored eyes looking down at her with the gentlest smile on his face, “Baby,it’s okay.”

“It is?”

‘I mean, it’s not what I expected to wake up to.” he laughs, “But it’s better than thinking you were sick or hurt.”

Her cheeks flushed when he said that and she leaned on his touch as soon as his hand cupped her cheek, rubbing under her eyelid with such a gentle brush she almost didn’t feel it, “I guess so…I…how do you– are you okay with this?”

He flicks his gaze to the tests, then back at her, “...honestly,I’m still thinking I’m dreaming.” he laughs again, “But…if you are wondering if I’m okay with more kids…you know I am.”

“But…it’s so soon Roos,if I am–”

“Let’s test it first.” he cuts her off gently, “I don’t want you overthinking before it happens,gorgeous. Please…let’s test it, I’ll be more awake then hopefully. I might get some coffee downstairs.”

“You can go back to sleep.”

He snorts in disbelief, “I’m not leaving you here alone.” he says, “You look terrified and I don’t plan on going back to bed like that. Especially without you.” he kisses her forehead, “Let’s do one thing then, let’s go back downstairs: I get some coffee and you get some water just to keep the sleep away.” he hugs her to his side, kissing her scalp, “What do you think?”

“I think I’m an idiot.”

“You aren’t.”

“I still think I’m an idiot.” she murmured, “I…you are having the reaction I thought you would and yet I was scared.”

Bradley huffs a laugh against her head, kissing her scalp one more time, “Ah,gorgeous.” He gently guides her out of the bathroom, letting her hug his bare torso, “You are so cute, and not an idiot.” her little ‘hrm’ was his only answer, “How about I make you a nice cappuccino? Or hot cocoa? Do you want some?”

“...yeah…that’d be nice.”

“Let’s make that two, then,I can add some coffee on mine, it’s going to be good.” he smiles, taking her towards the staircase. Honestly he was still…digesting what Beatrice said. He still thinks he’s partially dreaming, because it was such a wild concept - another baby! So soon! - that his brain was taking longer to identify information so late at night. He kissed Beatrice’s head, however, as soon as they reached the bottom floor, smiling when he just hugged him tighter. 

Dreaming or not…it’d be nice either way.