#WHY DO I HAVE TO BE IN CHARGE OF THE DIRECTION EVEN IF MY PHONE BATTERY IS TERRIBLE AND I DON'T HAVE INTERNET

[elipsi]

other people being absentminded makes me go berserk because how could they decide to make my life more difficult on purpose, on the other hand if i am absentminded it's just a reflection of my beautiful complicated brain that is too busy with more important things. i should probably work on this.

[areyoudoingthis]

so apparently I'm being asked to "choose a gender" for the property paperwork for my house because "non binary isn't an option" and I'm developing an eye twitch. do these people know they make laws for a reason

[cleolinda]

Phone scam gothic

So my mom sits down and starts telling me about two weird-ass phone calls she had today—she was returning a missed call, and the woman who answered just… sobbed for a minute. I’m sitting here asking, like, a whole minute? Nothing else, just sobbing? Who did you THINK you were calling back?

“United Healthcare, they have my Medicare plan. They’ve been calling me for weeks without leaving any voicemail.”

(Are you sure it was United Healthcare? “It was the same number that’s on my card, I checked, and that’s who the caller ID said it was.”)

Are you sure it was a whole minute? Did YOU say anything?

“Yes, like sixty seconds while I kept going ‘Hello? Hello?’ It sounded like she was having a nervous breakdown, I kept waiting to see if she’d tell me what was even wrong. Finally I just hung up.”

And then my mom turned right around and called back again, because she was gonna get to the bottom of this.

This time she got a different woman, perfectly calm, who wanted to set up “your in-home direct patient care home health visit.”

At this point (at this point?) I’m staring, because no one here currently has anyone coming to the house to help with any kind of medical care. My mom might honestly be the healthiest member of the household, but even I don’t use any home services, herniated discs and all. “Did they have you… confused with someone else?”

“No, she repeated my full name and phone number back to me.”

This lady then started ARGUING with my mother. Why don’t you want us to come to your house to manage your direct patient care? Don’t you need home health care to be managed? Why don’t you need home health care? Why would you not want home health care? “I JUST KIND OF HAVE HIGH CHOLESTEROL?” But don’t you want us to manage your home health care? “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE TO MANAGE HEALTH CARE I DON’T USE?”

My mom finally hung up on this lady as well, without giving her any real information.

The more we talked about it, the more things we started to notice:

I was incredibly creeped out by the unsolicited use of the word “manage,” for some reason. Very sinister “write me into your will” vibes for some reason—I don’t know what these people want, but they’re gonna get you to sign something over.

My mom got especially stuck on “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE?!”

My mom has used home health services before… years ago, before she was on Medicare. But this company wouldn’t know about that. However, if you’re on Medicare, you’re over 65. Having not ever dealt with my mother before, someone calling a Medicare user might be playing the odds that a person over 65 is 1) in frail health and 2) old enough to get easily confused.

Fair play to my mom, she’s the one who thought of number spoofing. I’m so busy not answering the phone ever and arranging all my medical communications to happen through passworded portals that I didn’t think of it.

Hey, are you guys, like… holding someone hostage…?

So at this point, I google “United Healthcare scam.”

The “health insurance counselor”

This fraudster will offer help navigating the health insurance marketplace for a fee, capitalizing on people’s confusion about the state-based health exchanges created through the Affordable Care Act.

What to know

This sort of assistance is indeed available and is legitimate, but the people who offer it – also known as “navigators” – aren’t allowed to charge for their services. Also, remember that people with Medicare coverage don’t need to use the state health exchanges. The exchanges are for people under the age of 65, who are looking to enroll in an individual health plan.

Change “navigate” to “manage,” and I think this is it, although the lady on the phone never mentioned any fees. Either my mom didn’t let her get that far, or this is the point of actually getting into someone’s house: persuading them face-to-face to pay something, and potentially refusing to leave until the scammer has worn their target down.

Medicare does not make unsolicited phone calls.

Okay, so it was a scam no matter what it was about. As far as I’m concerned, my mom should contact Actual United Healthcare about it, and I’m here to spread the good word of Never Believing Anyone on the Phone 2k24. I don’t know what to tell you about the lady having the nervous breakdown though.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance

words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?

The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.

Really, it could have easily been any of the three.

Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.

You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.

Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.

It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.

Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.

You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.

That pipeline got you nowhere.

Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.

To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.

Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.

You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.

It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.

You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.

(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.

Fuck.

The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.

Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.

You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t.

Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”

At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.

You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.

You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.

Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.

Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.

You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.

The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.

Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”

You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.

Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”

A pregnant pause.

“��Care to explain?”

You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.

How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.

It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.

But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.

Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.

In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.

“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”

The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’

And so you do.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.

“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”

You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.

“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”

The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”

“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.

To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.

“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”

“S-sue?” you choke out.

Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”

You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.

“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We’re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”

“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”

You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”

“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”

Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.

Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”

At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”

You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.

“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”

Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”

“Tch.”

You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.

After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.

Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.

You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.

You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”

“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”

You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”

At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”

He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”

As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.

“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”

Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”

That’s what’s bothering him?

You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”

“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”

You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”

You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.

You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.

He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.

And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.

“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

December 2019

Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.

“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”

He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.

“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”

“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”

Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”

Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.

You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”

A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”

“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”

“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”

He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”

August 2017

All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.

You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.

“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?” 

You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before. 

“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”

“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”

“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.

“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.

“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”

You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”

He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”

You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.

“Charles, dépêche-toi!”

You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.

“Well?”

You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”

“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”

“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”

You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him. 

“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”

“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”

Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”

You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”

He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”

“The Fairmont.”

The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”

“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Your boyfriend?”

You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”

He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind. 

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”

“Have you been to Jimmyz?”

“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.  

“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”

January 2020

Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink. 

You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.

The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.

“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.

“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”

August 2017

The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.

“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.

With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”

Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”

He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”

You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.

Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”

February 2020

You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.

“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.

The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”

“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.

She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”

You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.

“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”

“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”

August 2017

“Where are we going?”

Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.

“You live in a hotel?”

He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”

He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.

For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.

“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.

“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”

Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.

��What’s my name?” he repeated.

“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.

“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”

The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.

You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.

Giada: When are you coming home?

“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”

You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.

Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx

You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.

You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.

It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.

You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.

“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.

He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”

Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.

February 2020

You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away. 

“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”

“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”

Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?” 

“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”

“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”

You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping. 

“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”

“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”

“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”

“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”

“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”

You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”

“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”

He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”

“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”

“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”

“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Biche.”

“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”

You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”

A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad. 

“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”

“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”

Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too. 

“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.

“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway. 

“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”

“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”

You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway. 

“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”

“No, she prefers me with nothing on.” 

You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Night, ma biche.”

It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.

“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”

You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply. 

Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours. 

Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water. 

“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”

“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.

“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”

His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”

“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him. 

You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”

“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.

“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”

“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”

Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys. 

You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”

Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”

You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable. 

Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”

His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.” 

“She’s pretty.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.” 

You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”

“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”

“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it. 

“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”

“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.

“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”

“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”

Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way. 

“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”

He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”

The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand. 

Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening. 

“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv. 

“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”

“Okay, and?”

 His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”

“Why?”

He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.” 

His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”

“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”

You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Good news or bad news first?”

You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.

“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Is that the good or the bad news?”

“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”

“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”

Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”

“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.

“This is going to be great.”

Click here for part two.

[arieslost]

sky full of stars | ln4

summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.

word count: 3,615

warnings: drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

2021

You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.

But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.

Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

You needed a closer look.

So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.

When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.

“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.

You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.

You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.

“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”

He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”

That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.

Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”

At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.

“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.

The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.

2022

You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.

He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.

“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”

“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”

You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.

Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.

It was working.

Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.

“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.

“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”

You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”

He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.

“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.

“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”

Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.

You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.

“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.

“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

2023

You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.

Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.

“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.

“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”

Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.

At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.

“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.

“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.

“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.

“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.

He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.

2024

You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.

You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.

“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.

“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”

“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.

You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.

You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.

So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.

“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.

“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.

“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”

He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?

He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.

“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.

You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”

Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.

Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”

Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”

“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”

“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.

It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.

“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”

You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.

“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”

He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”

The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.

“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.

“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”

note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee

[oaksgrove]

Family comes first.

pairing: platonic!141 x fem!Reader

summary: When an unexpected leave of absence raises questions among the 141, Captain Price and the team uncover the truth: their lieutenant is facing the challenges of pregnancy alone.

warnings: Discussions of pregnancy, mentions of emotional vulnerability, fluff, humor, and strong family dynamics.

word count: 1697

The morning Laswell’s email arrived, Price knew something was wrong.

The subject line was terse: Leave of Absence.

He opened it, expecting one of the usual reports or mission directives, but instead found a scanned note from a doctor, granting you indefinite leave. No details. No explanations. Just a date and a signature.

Price frowned, rereading the note as if it might suddenly offer more information. “Laswell,” he muttered, grabbing his phone.

The call went straight to voicemail.

When he gathered the boys—Soap, Gaz, and Ghost—to break the news, the reactions were immediate.

“She just… left?” Soap asked, brows furrowed. “No goodbye? No explanation?”

“Laswell wouldn’t even tell you why?” Gaz added, his concern clear.

Ghost was silent, arms crossed, but the tension in his posture spoke volumes.

Price shook his head. “All I got was the note. Says it’s personal.”

The room fell into uneasy silence. None of them liked being kept in the dark, especially when it came to one of their own.

“Something’s not right,” Ghost said finally, his low voice cutting through the tension.

Price’s jaw tightened. “We’re going to find out what’s going on.

Laswell’s office was typically a haven of order, but when the 141 stormed in unannounced, it became a battlefield.

Price led the charge, his expression stormy. Soap and Gaz flanked him, while Ghost lingered just behind, his presence menacing as ever.

“Captain,” Laswell greeted, looking up from her desk. Her tone was calm, but the slight tightening of her jaw betrayed her unease. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know damn well why we’re here,” Price said, placing the printed doctor’s note on her desk. “What’s going on with her?”

Laswell’s eyes flicked to the paper, then back to Price. “It’s personal.”

“That’s not good enough,” Price said sharply. “She’s part of my team, Kate. We deserve to know if she’s okay.”

Laswell leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “She’s fine. She’s taking care of something important, and I’m making sure she has the space to do it.”

“Space for what?” Soap asked, his frustration bubbling over.

“That’s not your business, Sergeant,” Laswell said firmly, her gaze cutting to him.

“It bloody well is when she vanishes without a word!” Gaz interjected.

Ghost’s voice cut through the growing chaos, low and dangerous. “We’re not leaving until you tell us what’s going on.”

Laswell hesitated, glancing at each of them in turn. Finally, she let out a long sigh. “Look, I can’t tell you. She asked me not to. All I can say is that she’s safe, and she’s being looked after.”

“By who?” Price pressed.

“By me,” Laswell said simply. “And Sarah.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words settling over them.

Price’s eyes narrowed. “If she’s in trouble—”

“She’s not,” Laswell interrupted. “But she’s dealing with something personal, and she needs time. You have to trust me on this, John.”

Price stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding, though his jaw remained tight. “Fine. But if anything happens, you let us know immediately.”

“Of course,” Laswell said, her tone softening. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Long before the boys discovered your secret, Laswell and Sarah had been your pillars. They visited regularly, ensuring you had everything you needed and offering unwavering emotional support.

One evening, as you sat on the couch surrounded by baby clothes and prenatal vitamins, Sarah placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You’re doing great,” she said warmly.

You let out a shaky laugh. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Laswell, sitting across from you with a cup of tea, raised an eyebrow. “You’re juggling a pregnancy and keeping it together on your own. That’s more than most people could handle.”

You sighed, resting a hand on your growing belly. “I just… I didn’t want the team to know. I’m afraid of what they’ll think.”

Sarah exchanged a glance with Laswell before leaning forward. “Honey, those men adore you. They’d probably build a nursery on base if you told them.”

Laswell chuckled. “She’s not wrong.”

You smiled faintly but didn’t respond.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom.” Sarah said softly.

Tears filled your eyes, and you nodded, unable to speak.

Weeks passed. The team tried to focus on their work, but your absence left a noticeable void. Soap still grumbled about your jokes, Gaz brought up your cooking, and even Ghost—stoic as ever—paused occasionally during briefings, as if expecting you to chime in.

Simon didn’t plan to find you.

He’d been wandering the mall on a rare day off, stocking up on essentials, when a familiar figure caught his eye.

It was you, standing in front of a baby store, your hands resting on your stomach.

Simon froze, his mind racing. He followed you inside, keeping a safe distance as you browsed the aisles.

You picked up a soft yellow onesie, holding it against your bump with a small, wistful smile.

She’s pregnant, Simon realized, his chest tightening.

When you moved to the register, he slipped out unnoticed, his mind spinning. Back at the base, he wasted no time finding Price.

“Found her,” he said without preamble.

Price looked up sharply. “What?”

“Spotted her at the mall,” Simon said, his voice low but firm. “She’s pregnant, Cap.”

Price leaned back in his chair, absorbing the news. “Bloody hell.”

“Was alone,” Simon added. “No bloke in sight.”

Price sighed, running a hand over his face. “Probably thought we’d judge her. Or that she’d be a burden.”

“Laswell’s been covering for her, probably didn’t think we’d understand.” Simon added. “What do we do?”

“What we always do,” Price said firmly. “We take care of our own.”

-

It was Price who came to see you first. He showed up unannounced, knocking on the door of your small apartment with the kind of authority that was impossible to ignore.

When you opened the door and saw him standing there, your heart sank.

“Captain…”

“Lieutenant,” he replied, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His sharp eyes took in the cozy but cluttered space: prenatal vitamins on the counter, a stack of baby books on the table, and a diaper bag by the couch.

“You didn’t want us to know,” he said, his tone even but firm.

You swallowed hard, wrapping your arms around your belly. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Price’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You listen to me. You’re part of this team, and nothing changes that. We’re family, and family doesn’t turn its back.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.

From that moment, the boys rallied around you like a well-oiled machine.

Price took charge of logistics, coordinating your doctor’s appointments and ensuring you had everything you needed. He showed up with groceries, baby supplies, and—on one occasion—a rocking chair he’d built himself.

“You made this?” you asked, running a hand over the smooth wood.

“Figured it might help,” he said gruffly, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable.

Soap became your personal cheerleader, insisting on helping you decorate the nursery. He spent hours assembling furniture, cracking jokes to keep you laughing through the process.

“Look at this wee crib,” he said, holding up a tiny mobile. “This baby’s gonna have the best view in town.”

Gaz, ever practical, took on meal prep duty, showing up with containers of healthy, ready-to-eat food.

“Gotta keep you and the little one fed,” he said, handing you a container of stew. “No arguments.”

And Ghost… Ghost was the quiet, steady presence you didn’t know you needed. He didn’t say much, but he was always there—fixing things around the apartment, carrying heavy boxes, and ensuring you had someone to lean on.

“You don’t have to do all this,” you said one day as he installed blackout curtains in the nursery.

“You’re right,” he replied, not looking up. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

Laswell and her wife, Sarah, became your unofficial wellness committee, showing up regularly to check on you.

“How’re you feeling?” Laswell asked during one visit, handing you a cup of tea while Sarah unpacked a bag of baby clothes.

“Good,” you said, glancing at the pile of tiny socks and onesies. “Better than I deserve, honestly.”

“Nonsense,” Sarah said, giving you a warm smile. “You’re doing great.”

-

When the day finally came, you were surrounded by your team in every sense.

Price was the first to arrive at the hospital, his steady presence calming you during the chaos. Soap and Gaz followed soon after, filling the room with nervous energy and encouragement but Price sent them to the hallway after making you too agitated. Ghost stayed in the hallway, ready to step in if needed but giving you space.

Hours later, when the baby’s cries filled the room, the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“It’s a girl,” the nurse announced, placing the tiny bundle in your arms.

You looked down at your baby, tears streaming down your face. “Hi, sweetheart,” you whispered, your heart swelling with love.

Price, standing at your bedside, rested a hand on your shoulder. “You did good, Lieutenant.”

Soap peeked over his shoulder, grinning. “Look at her! She’s already got more hair than Ghost.”

“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost muttered, though there was a rare softness in his tone.

Back at the base, the team embraced their roles as uncles with pride. Soap declared himself the baby’s favorite, Gaz perfected his swaddling technique, and Ghost quietly ensured the nursery was stocked with everything you could need.

Price was the first to hold the baby during a team meeting, cradling him with surprising ease.

“Captain’s got the touch,” Soap teased, snapping a photo.

Gaz grinned. “Reckon he’s already training him to take over one day.”

Ghost, standing in the corner, simply nodded. “He’ll fit right in.”

And as you looked around at your makeshift family—your daughter nestled in Price’s arms, Soap and Gaz arguing over who got to babysit next, and Ghost quietly assembling a stroller—you realized you were exactly where you needed to be.

You weren’t alone. You never had been.

[onelittlespiral]

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

[wonwoonlight]

when he finds out you're sick through the internet

A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!

[part 2]

Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.

For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.

Seungcheol is patient and rational.

Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.

But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.

So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.

He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.

He wants to get angry.

At who, he’s not sure.

At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?

Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.

The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.

Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.

He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.

“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”

It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.

“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”

Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.

Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress. 

You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.

“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.

He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.

You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.

Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.

Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.

“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.

You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.

Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.

You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.

“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward. 

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”

“But–”

“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart.  He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good night, Cheol.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in my dream?”

“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”

He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.

cont.

[ineffably-human]

The day Guillermo slaughtered a theatre of vampires, Nandor looked up and actually saw him. 'My name is Guillermo de la Cruz' burned like a silver knife in his brain. And that's the day Nandor started rooting for him.

Making him a bodyguard, insistent that's what he was. Watching him so carefully. 'Push back. Break the rules. Talk about yourself. I can't do it for you. If I do it for you then you've already lost.' Guillermo slapped him and his eyes lit up. Guillermo fought him, and he only wanted more. Guillermo said 'I can kill you whenever I want, I choose not to,' and it's what he was waiting for.

Nandor stands at the train station, feeling awake for the first time in months as he considers all the variables. The normal bite won't be enough, not for a Van Helsing. He'll have to drink someone right away, just to be sure. Will it feel the same for him, to hunt a human the way Nandor's watched him hunt a vampire? Maybe if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot that Guillermo can do very easily, if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot Nandor can do, very easily, if-

(...he's not coming. Well, familiars have balked at less.)

--

It's such a genuine surprise when he reappears. Why everything happened doesn't matter, exactly; Guillermo doesn't fight to get any of it back. He's so angry, so ready to leave, and by all rights Nandor should let him. But all he can feel is the instinct to stop him. Perhaps if he has actual love in this house, something to fill the void... Maybe there's one more thing Guillermo can do for him before his exit.

It's a strange year. Guillermo is not in his service, so much as he's a friend charged with service. His mind is so pulled in different directions - raising the Colin-creature, helping at the club, buying his gaudy new clothes that aren't vampire-like at all. Talking on the phone, sometimes in the other language he speaks, sometimes in secret whispers Nandor doesn't try to figure out.

If Guillermo doesn't want him to know, then he doesn't. He can't begrudge him a life outside this house anymore. It's like Guillermo has remembered how to be human.

Maybe he has. Nandor takes him to fight, wants to see that fire in his eyes again, but Guillermo only wants peace. They never talk about him becoming a vampire. Guillermo doesn't ask once. At the wedding, Guillermo promises to always be there when Nandor is afraid. Nandor wonders what 'always' means to him.

When he meets Freddie, things click into place a bit. Nandor is happy for him, truly. Suspicious, of course - this is a stranger in their home, one who clearly doesn't know their secrets. But such a kind and engaging stranger. And intriguing, like a little secret corner of Guillermo Nandor has never been able to reach. Nandor has been so lonely lately, he keeps getting everything he wants and yet he's lonelier than ever -

Nandor fucks up. Nandor fixes. Or does his best, anyway.

Guillermo goes to London one day, comes home with a look in his eyes like something broken. They don't talk about it.

Guillermo is back to dusting. He sits beside Nandor and smiles, placid and friendly. 'So, what's next?' But he doesn't ask. And Nandor can't ask it for him. That's not how this works.

--

And suddenly, Guillermo is a million miles away. Suddenly, Guillermo would rather be anywhere than with Nandor.

He talks about being a vampire for the first time in a year, but there's a strangeness to it. A wariness. When they laugh at the idea, he doesn't push back. There's no fire.

Something is wrong, honestly wrong, but Nandor can't bring himself to think about it seriously. Guillermo still runs from even the thought of their orgies. (So it can't be what he's thinking of, can it?) Their first big crisis as a household in a while, their bodyguard is nowhere to be found. (Is he a bodyguard anymore? A familiar? A lot more like Laszlo's familiar, these days...)

'I'm not going to be around forever.' Well, fine. He can survive that. He's survived far worse, and so has Guillermo.

And Guillermo is not just here right now, but is alive right now - wonderfully, blessedly alive - and Nandor won't be forced to think about his death for a while yet.

The one thing he knows for sure is that Guillermo would never do anything to hurt him, to hurt any of them. And maybe that's why it never worked out. You have to do so much more than survive, to be a vampire.

-- When everything that happened becomes clear, when his rage fades to anger fades to acceptance, there's still responsibility. Responsibility to his familiar, responsibility to his friend.

And when Guillermo's heart is too full, and spills over whatever bloodlust he had, Nandor wishes he were surprised. Guillermo has iron in him but it's been forged into a shield, after all this time. There are no little leftover bits Nandor might have helped him shape into a pair of fangs.

Guillermo can feed a family, or defend one, or defend himself. But he won't kill unless he has to, and his own survival - or his own happiness - is not a 'has to'. Fine. Guillermo has fought for him. Nandor can fight, too.

His own anger still needs a more constructive place to go. So he looks at Guillermo's wretched sire - who never even wanted to be a vampire, and then made a vampire so thoughtlessly. Who hasn't come to see Guillermo, who couldn't figure out how to help him, who doesn't even know that he's in pain.

Nandor drives a stake into the heart of a vampire. And it feels good.

Maybe now, he can also be angry at himself a little less.

[shuahoonie]

warm on a cold night | kim mingyu

pairing: non-idol!mingyu (svt) x female!reader

notes: college au! fluff, pet names, the great wall of mingyu, fake dating for convenience? maybe questionable relationships (aka mingyu what are we), a bit of angst— nothing too serious, alcohol consumption, a clingy and touchy mingyu. loosely based on the song warm on a cold night by HONNE

word count: 3.6k (a bit of a long one, sorry!)

summary: there was no denying that mingyu looked like he was carved out from the gods, that's why he keeps getting asked out.

yet every poor person's attempt of asking him out is often met with rejection. the reason? you two are *supposedly* dating (on the dl), he would say. the truth? you two aren’t.

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

"kim mingyu, can you please enlighten me why the girls that i just passed by from the engineering department literally gave me the nastiest side eye?" you raised a brow at mingyu who was crouched over at the student lounges by the engineering department. you set the coffee and cake at the nearby empty table.

upon hearing your voice, mingyu looked like a child on christmas morning as soon as he saw you.

“baby!” mingyu came running, tackling you with a huge hug, abandoning the plates he had been working on. “i missed you!” he said, almost excruciatingly loud, turning a few heads over your way.

“yah,” you smacked the back of his head, causing him to groan and let go of the hug almost immediately. “i told you to quit calling me that!”

“you don’t like being called honey nor sweetheart either,” mingyu mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

“it’s because my parents call me that,” you replied, getting sidetracked. “but that’s not the point—“

“would you rather i call you kitten, instead?” he asked in a suggestive tone, wriggling his eyebrows.

“why you—“ you were ready to let out a string of curses, a hand also ready to smack the living daylights out of him, before mingyu grabbed you from behind and wrapped both his arms around you— one to press over your mouth and one to stop your hand from hitting him.

“kitten, let’s not get violent.” mingyu said, trying to calm you down.

“yn, are you being held hostage by your own boyfriend?” jihoon asked in amusement as he passed by you two.

you pulled away mingyu’s hand that was pressed against your lips, “yes, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

mingyu, who still stood there behind you, rested his chin on top of your head and continued to wrap his arms around you.

“not according to the people from the music department,” jihoon replied with a smirk. “and this,” he gestured to the position that you two are in “is not helping.”

“uji, what are you doing in the engineering department anyway?” mingyu asked, “are you here to see me because you miss me?” he teased.

“no, because why would i even do that," jihoon looked disgusted upon hearing mingyu's comment, making mingyu pout. "besides, unlike some people, i don’t have to run from one end of the campus to the other just to see someone,” jihoon replied, the comment more so directed at you.

“i did not run on my way here,” you rolled your eyes, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “and i’m here because this 6 ft tall baby won’t stop blowing upmy phone, saying he wanted coffee.”

“and yet you’re here,” jihoon said in a teasing tone, enough to make you charge at him— you could’ve though, if wasn’t for mingyu who’s still latched to you.

“and my baby’s here with iced americano,” he said, letting go of you and grabbing the coffee instead. “and cake?” his eyes almost sparkled upon seeing the familiar takeout box from his favourite dessert place aka cheollie and jeonghan’s cafe. “oh, you truly love me.” mingyu chuckled softly.

you snorted. “yeah, right.” it’s always complicated with you two. you never knew where things crossed and you assumed neither did mingyu.

“okay, it seems like i’m intruding,” jihoon mumbled “i need to go, i have to meet vernon by the library soon— have fun you two.” jihoon said with a smile. “oh, and do not forget, we’re all meeting at seungcheol’s café on saturday. the man gets sulky whenever we don’t go all out on his birthday,” he added before he left you two alone.

“wait, i’ll come with you, uji!” you said to jihoon before turning to mingyu who was already pouting. “i need to go, gyu. good luck on your plates!” you smiled at him and gently tapped his cheek.

“you’re not staying with me?” mingyu was getting sulky “but you just got here.” he whined.

“i only came here because you kept calling my phone, you’re lucky i didn’t block your number.” you said, half-joking— on the latter part, of course!

“you’d never do it anyway.” mingyu said with a smug smile.

“only because you’ll tell my mom and i will never hear the end of it.” you sighed. “i swear she loves you more than me.”

"it's because she has taste," mingyu stuck his tongue out at you, making you roll your eyes "unlike her daughter who will purposely leave me alone to fend for myself."

"you are so dramatic, i swear to god," you grumbled loud enough for mingyu to hear. being the menace that he is, he threw a balled-up straw wrapper at you. "okay, i'm going, bye." you said in one breath and ran to catch up with jihoon, not even bothering to look back.

"without even a kiss or anything?!" mingyu yelled obnoxiously, urging you to run faster.

jihoon caught glimpse of you and stopped so you can catch up, and catch your breath. "you okay?" jihoon asked in amusement.

you nodded. "yeah, let's go. don't want to keep nonie waiting," you said in between breaths. "mingyu better bring me food later because he pulled me from having a main character moment from the cafe." you huffed.

"are you sure you and mingyu are just friends?" jihoon asked with a raised brow.

"uji, just because you wound up dating your best friend, that doesn't mean the rest of us would have to do it too," you said teasingly. it wasn't a joke per se. "except for jeonghan, because you know, he hates being one-upped."

jihoon rolled his eyes, but it was evident he was turning red. "we won't tease you— if that's why you are so secretive about it." jihoon commented "although, i have to be honest, you two are more clingier than me and my partner."

"that's because you detest any form of physical affection," you pointed out.

"might i remind you that you also used to hate that too," jihoon proclaimed "until mingyu practically latched on to you like glue."

you ignored jihoon’s comment, mostly because he was right, but you’re not willing to admit that just yet. "it wasn't like he made me uncomfortable or anything— and i did say yes to the whole ‘if anyone asks, can i tell them that we’re dating’ thing, since it was bothering him" you rambled "he just said people wouldn't take his rejections seriously so he had to show people that he wasn't interested."

"so, what, is this a complicated way of projecting that you two are fake dating?"

"i guess so," you sighed. "i mean, i guess it's working because no one really bothered him anymore,”

"and you're okay with that?" jihoon asked.

"i mean, i get the occasional side eye from people, which i, too, return because i hate losing" you joked, "and if it keeps mingyu happy, then..."

"ya!" jihoon flicked you on the forehead, making you yelp, "we've all been friends for ages and i know your secret feelings for mingyu, so i know this is secretly killing you."

"wow," you were trying to act appalled, when jihoon was exactly right. "i do not have secret feelings for mingyu.”

“repeat it five more times, it might come true,” jihoon teased. “i see the way you look at him,” he points out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“i look at him the same way i look at you guys,” you replied as you and jihoon entered the library, spotting vernon slouching at one of the chairs— bored out of his mind.

“you look at us like we’re stupid,” jihoon rolled his eyes.

“exactly.” you beamed at him.

“yn,” vernon looked surprised upon seeing you with jihoon. “i thought you were with mingyu.”

“why would you think that?” you asked him with a raised brow.

“because he wouldn’t stop moaning about how much you kept ignoring his calls earlier,” vernon replied. “and i thought you finally gave in.”

“now, why on earth would you assume that i would give in.” you crossed your arms, slightly annoyed of the idea that is your current legacy— the girl who will always give in for kim mingyu.

“because it’s mingyu,” vernon smirked “you would’ve done anything for him.”

seungcheol and jeonghan’s quaint café was already alive as soon as you got there. it was said to be an intimate get together but you didn’t expect the amount of people who gathered for seungcheol’s party.

“yn!” vernon waved at you as soon he saw you emit from the doors. “were you alone? did you drive?”

“i came here straight from work,” you explained “i was told that mingyu’s planning to get wasted so i brought my car, in case any of you needs a ride.”

vernon raised his brow. “any of us? or just mingyu?”

“yah!” you flicked his forehead in response, making vernon yelp. “you’ve been spending way too much time with uji.”

“but it’s true,” you heard vernon mumble to himself.

“i was also told that it was an intimate get together” you said as you scanned the place filled with a good mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

“yeah, but knowing cheol, he probably wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to celebrate his day with the people he knew,” vernon commented as you two made your way towards the crowd, aiming to find the table where the rest of your friends are hopefully staying.

"happy birthday, cheollie!" you beamed at seungcheol, who just finished checking up on soonyoung and seungkwan. you gave a big wave to soonie and kwannie, making a mental note to properly say hi later.

you handed him the perfectly wrapped present that you may or may not have spent ages on wrapping— you had to mentally put yourself on a pinterest lockdown. “it’s from me and gyu,” you smiled at him.

“thanks, yn,” seungcheol smiles. “you know, you didn’t have to get me anything though.” his smile falters and you did have a sense on where this is going. “you could’ve just greeted me at 12 am in the group chat, didn’t leave me on read.” cheol sulks.

you rolled your eyes at the most incredulous take you heard from your friend. “choi seungcheol, i swear to god— you are the only person i know that bullies people into greeting them happy birthday as soon as the clocks hit midnight.”

“it’s a special day!” seungcheol pouts.

“whatever,” you dismissed him jokingly, earning you a dramatic huff from cheol. “where’s joshua? i haven’t seen him in ages,” you asked, peering around the room.

“why are you looking for another man when your boyfriend’s here?” mingyu suddenly pops out of nowhere, handing you a drink. seungcheol went to make rounds again, checking up on his guests. meanwhile vernon joined soonyoung and seungkwan’s table— which was only a couple of steps away from you two.

“gyu, it’s literally just us here.” you rolled your eyes at him as you gladly accepted the cola. “i don’t think we need to keep acting here,”

“kitten, there’s people here that don’t know that.”

“exactly,” you pointed out. “there’s no reason for us to start acting like a couple if the people here don’t even care if we’re ‘seeing’ each other.”

“but i do,” mingyu mumbled— closer to a whisper. he feared that if he said it to your face— or if you heard it, you’d think differently of him.

but you did hear it. you weren’t sure if it was the mixed chatter that’s messing up your hearing, or if you were just hearing things that you wanted to hear. nonetheless, it had you flustered.

you cleared your throat. “i’ll be back, gyu. i wanna check the food platter,” you said quietly before leaving.

gyu gave a tight nod, which it didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the guys.

upon checking what cheol’s birthday spread, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. “pst!”

you were immediately filled with surprise and joy when you saw joshua standing behind you, smiling, and his arms spread out waiting for a hug.

“shua!” you almost shrieked, tackling him in a hug. “i missed you!”

joshua let out a small laugh. “i missed you too, ynnie.”

you quickly let go of the hug, remembering the text he sent you a few days ago and gave him a playful smack in the arm. “you know, you’re truly sick in the head for texting me that after you asked me for a favour.”

“i was just congratulating you for overcoming your pride and finally accepting the fact that you love mingyu,” joshua teased, nudging you playfully. “must you forget that i follow you on your private twitter?”

“literally shut the fuck up, shua,” you grumbled.

“wow,” joshua sighs, appalled “you kiss mingyu with that mouth?!”

“you annoying brat—“ you were about to smack him before joshua caught your hand, laughing at how flustered you were becoming.

across the room, mingyu was watching you and joshua. how playful you were around joshua. it’s not like he’s jealous or anything— because he’s not. or rather, he has no right to be.

seungkwan picked up on gyu’s slight change of behaviour and where his line of vision was projecting. “you know they’re just really close friends right?” seungkwan comments, trying to ease the conversation.

“hm?” mingyu pretended to not know what seungkwan was pertaining to.

of course, it didn’t work. it’s seungkwan we’re talking about here. he knows when things can get messy really fast and he knows when to stop it. the pointed look that seungkwan gave was also a telling sign that mingyu shouldn’t even bother to lie.

mingyu sighed before taking big gulps of his beer. “she’s allowed to like whomever,” mingyu finally says. “even if it’s my best friend, i’ll still support her.”

“oh, i cannot do this,” vernon muttered under his breath, leaving the table as soon as the words left mingyu’s mouth.

soonyoung was quietly listening to mingyu and seungkwan’s conversation. it was the quietest he has been all night, well, partly because he had already drank a bottle of soju. soonie was afraid that if he said something, it would incriminate you and your feelings for mingyu— and he’d rather not face your wrath.

“well, have you two talked about whatever happens if either of you wanted to date someone else?” seungkwan asked.

the question lingered around mingyu— it never crossed his mind. he had always assumed that you would always be there for him, which was extremely selfish considering you weren’t his to begin with.

mingyu’s silence was enough for seungkwan. he knew where mingyu’s feelings settled. quite, frankly, seungkwan knew where your feelings for mingyu too. but seungkwan knew better than to meddle, especially with unresolved feelings that involved two idiots.

mingyu watched you give joshua a small bag— a present, probably. joshua gave you a grateful smile and a big hug after, making you giggle at something he said. shua seemed happy around you and you were happy around him.

that hurt more than mingyu wanted to admit.

“yn,” joshua whispered as you were busy picking food. “how much are you willing to bet that mingyu’s jealous right now?” he asked upon catching a glimpse of mingyu, who was on his 3rd bottle of beer now and was watching them intently.

you snorted, not bothering to look at joshua. “at whom? is he eyeing on someone i didn’t know about?”

“why,” a twinkle formed in joshua’s eyes “are you jealous?”

“psh,” you didn’t even bother to look at him. joshua will read you right away. “why would i be? i’m not his girlfriend.”

“oh my god,” joshua laughed almost annoyingly that you’d rather take back the limited edition copy of the book that he asked you to get him— a favour for being a good friend, apparently. you knew damn well joshua was going to give that to someone else. “you are! oh, how cute.” he gushed.

“i am not,” you groaned, lying straight through your teeth.

“you should go back,” joshua laughs “as much as i have enjoyed seeing how you two really felt about each other, i don’t want to be the cause of whatever’s stopping you two from it.” with joshua’s ominous words and a small goodbye, he left.

“yn,” seungcheol suddenly crept behind you. “check up on, gyu. he’s drinking too much for someone who hasn’t eaten anything.”

“where did you even—“ your heart was racing, still startled at cheol.

“don’t ask questions and just go,” cheol said, pushing you towards mingyu.

you found mingyu absolutely buzzed beside seungkwan. mingyu rested his head on top of seungkwan’s shoulder, his eyes staring directly at you. seungkwan, on the other hand, was looking at you with pleading eyes— asking as if to save him from this misery.

“yah, kim mingyu,” you grabbed mingyu’s hand and attempted to pull him up from his chair “kwannie’s getting tired. leave him alone.”

“no, he’s not.” mingyu sulked. oh, he’s definitely drunk. “i don’t hear him complaining.”

“because seungkwannie’s too nice to say anything,” you replied, shooting seungkwan an apologetic smile. “get up, mingyu. let’s grab something for you to eat and maybe some water.”

“i don’t want to,” he moaned. mingyu straightened up his position and leaned his head back against the wall. “why are you here anyway? where’s joshua?” he asked, eyes closed.

seungkwan and soonyoung could sense tension between you and mingyu. the last thing they wanted was to witness what was about to unfold. “hyung,” seungkwan grabbed soonyoung’s arm. “let’s go grab something to drink.”

soonie, though nearly drunk, understood the situation and nodded.

as soon as the two left, you stood closer to mingyu, towering against him. “mingyu,” you patted his cheek softly, attempting to make him look at you. “c’mon.”

mingyu groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. it was ridiculous, you had no idea why he was acting like this. well, you had a hunch— joshua’s comment coming into mind— but it was ridiculous right? right?

mingyu eventually met your eyes— a bit red, probably from exhaustion. “where’s shua?” mingyu asked quietly.

you raised an eyebrow at him. “why? is there something you wanted to tell him?” you asked, sitting next to him.

mingyu turned his head against you, wondering why there’s a small smirk forming in your face.

“no,” mingyu huffed. “you looked like you were having tons of fun with him.”

“yeah, i was.” you replied casually, willing to play the game— willing to find out whether joshua’s hunch about mingyu being jealous was actually true. “joshua’s your friend, you know.”

“i know,” mingyu huffed, as if you were rubbing it to him. “so why are you here?” mingyu asked, sounding annoyed. almost.

“why? do you not want me here?”

“i do, but—“ mingyu ran a hand over his face out of frustration. come to think of it, he was slowly coming into his senses. wondering why he was acting like this. “you know what, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“of course, i am.” you casually agreed.

“then why—“

you cut mingyu off and asked “gyu, why do you think i’m here?”

mingyu bit the inside of his cheeks before answering “to take care of me?”

“partly, yeah,” you laughed. “and it’s because i like spending time with you.”

mingyu’s sulky behaviour instantly dissipates, a large grin suddenly taking over his face. “you like spending time with me?” he asks, almost excitedly.

“there’s a lot of things i like about you, mingyu.” you answered, almost easily— not even knowing where this newfound confidence came from. “why do you think i keep doing things for you?”

“i thought you were just being overtly loyal to being my best friend,” he answered with a pout.

“gyu, i don’t think i could ever agree to do the things you asked me to if it were someone else.”

“you mean if joshua asked you to be his pretend girlfriend, you’d say no?” mingyu asked with a quirk brow.

“where is this jealousy from joshua coming from?!” you practically yelled, smacking his arm. “that’s your best friend, you brat.”

“yeah? so?” mingyu crossed his arms “he’s a nice guy— a gentleman, sweet. i wouldn’t be surprised if you liked him.”

“oh my god,” you groaned “kim mingyu, you are dense as fuck.”

“yah, why are you calling me stupid?” mingyu turns his body to fully face you.

“because i’ve been trying to tell you that i like you, stupid.” you said, irritated.

“you like me?” mingyu’s face lights up.

“yes, you weirdo.”

“if you like me then why are you calling me ‘weirdo’?!” mingyu pouts.

“because you’re weird! never had i seen someone react like this, even after they were told that someone likes them.”

“but you like meee,” mingyu practically sings. “i like you too, ynnie.” he said snuggling closer to you, resting his head on top of yours.

“oh, i know” you replied, unbothered by the look that mingyu gave you. “i knew the moment that shua hugged me and gave me his attention, i knew you were jealous.”

“you knew that i was jealous and you still didn’t do anything about it?”

“please,” you snorted “i was trying to prove the theory. i am, first and foremost, a research girly after all.”

“and what theory is that?” mingyu asked,

“that i was certain about my feelings about you,” you replied. “and that i just had to make sure you were too.”

“you did all that when i could’ve just kissed you?”mingyu baffles “you had me seeing red.”

“uh, not with beer-breath you’re not.” you said, crossing your arms. mingyu suddenly stands up, prompting you to ask “where are you going?”

“to ask cheol if he has any spare toiletries in his office,” mingyu answers in a hurry, making you laugh.

hiya friends! sorry if this took a while! april has not been kind to a fourth-yr uni student, but at least, it's all over now! i can write (non-uni related works) as much as i want! 🤩

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (7/17)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist 🤍

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yourusername: hello madrid 🌼 Liked by sofie.svava, frejaolofssonn, ona.battle and 1,289 others

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ingridengen Sweetest girl!!

username1 😮

marialeonn16 Floraaaa mi favoritaaa 😎

sofie.svava Yay, the princess has arrived! 👼🎀

albaps9 oh dear is the car still ok ↳ yourusername i'm a better driver than you ↳ albaps9 iM a bETtER dRiVeR THAn yOu ↳ yourusername you can't even drive manual 😙

janafernandez3 Aw, what beautiful flowers!! 😍 ↳ claudiaapina from her 'secret' admirer, I bet! ↳ jennihermoso Cough, secret admirer turned girlfriend, cough! ↳ ona.battle They're so goals together 😭 ↳ patri8guijarro Uhhh, you know who SHE is?!!! ↳ ona.battle 🤷‍♀️ ↳ __cata13 HOW ↳ janafernandez3 Just a little common sense, girls 😅 ↳ keirawalsh hasn't it been obvious right from the start or do i just spend too much time on social media to have seen it all happen? 😳 ↳ aitanabonmati The last one, you clown 😁

marisabel_rguez Have fun in Madrid, YN! Hope you have a good time 😎 ↳ yourusername ass 🤣

username2 hello, more MisaxYn content? 🤞

username3 Driving six hours to Madrid for funsies?.... hmmm I wonder why 😳 ↳ username4 she could've just taken the train but ok ↳ username5 Maybe the u-haul was already filled to the brim so she decided to bring the rest herself 🤭 ↳ username6 👀 ↳ username7 uhhh they wouldn't, would they? ↳ username5 Oh, but they might! 😌 ↳ username7 🕵️‍♀️🧐

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Text Messages

ale 🐻 You post a picture before telling me you've arrived? I love you pero can you please stop worrying me like that. I called you like so many times. ale 🐻 I just had the most nerve wracking seven hours of my life, you know?? you ○○○ you ALE you im okay im okay! you fuck i'm so sorry, my phone died and then i arrived and misa and sofie took me in and they immediately took me out to eat and i just kind of forgot im so so so so so so so sorry and i love you the most in the whole entire world. you're the best sister ever and i'm the luckiest shithead there is. t'estimo, t'estimo, t'estimo!!!! ale 🐻 Bé, I was just really worried about you, I didn't like not hearing anything from you. You're my whole world, too. Next time make sure it's fully charged when you know you'll go out for a long time. What would you have done if you had needed help? Not saying this to scare you, but you know that. So, how was the drive? Did you at least take a few breaks? you boring, lots of rain and traffic. aaaand no breaksies because i didn't want to arrive in the middle of the night bc the traffic had set me back some hours. misa has a game tomorrow and i didn't want her to lose any sleep 😅 ale 🐻Next time you take regular breaks, yes? I'm sure Misa would understand and want the same. Can you please Facetime mami? you i will. petons to you all and olga 😘 you and nala! Delivered

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↳ 6h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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Direct Messages albaps9 corrupting the missus to support real madrid, i see? misa, are you even trying to get along with alexia? 😂 marisabel_rguez Jeje 😆 Had to show her a little bit of our Madrid culture, of course! It's tradition to attend a game! albaps9 in the putellas household, it's also tradition to support barca, so have fun holding onto your head! albaps9 no, but all jokes aside. i might not have said this to you in person yet, but i want you to know how happy i am that you're with my sister. i don't think anyone else could've pulled her out of the deep end and love and treat her the way she deserves. you made her see her own worth again, believe that she was deserving of all the good things, and gave us our girl back. i'll never be able to properly thank you, but i want you to know how grateful we all are nonetheless. marisabel_rguez Thank you for telling me. But you don't need to thank me for doing all that. I love her, it's only normal that I treat her accordingly. She's my entire world, Alba. albaps9 i still don't think you realise how much your love and care for her means to her and the rest of us, and how it has impacted us as a family. but remember that we're proud to call you family too. okay? albaps9 unless you hurt her and end up destroying all the progress she's made, maria isabel. then i'll fucking come for you and alexia won't be your only problem. marisabel_rguez I would expect you to do so then! She's really lucky with you two. She loves you very much, so I'm also happy to be part of your circle. albaps9 🥹🥹 okay but you don't even seem the slightest bit intimidated? 🤣 marisabel_rguez Oh no, I know you're bark and bite! I just know I don't have to be afraid because that worst case scenario will never happen! albaps9 thank you misa ❤️

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tagged: marisabel_rguez, frejaolofssonn, carolinemoller_, haleyraso, yourusername sofie.svava: Supporting the boys with my favourite madridistas Liked by claudia.zornoza, carolineweir95, haleyraso and 12,493 others

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frejaolofssonn Gooooooaaaaal golgolgolgolgol 🤩

carolineweir95 Supporting the men but wearing Misa jerseys, I'm so here for it haha ↳ sofie.svava Someone insisted 🙊 liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ marisabel_rguez And we couldn't resist her! liked by yourusername

username1 Did sofie just... ↳ username2 Yes 😭😬😬😬 ↳ username3 she's removed yn from the tags now 🤭 ↳ username1 Too late man lmao

claudia.zornoza Vamos 💪🏼

haleyraso 💅🏽

username4 it sure is real love if someone raised on barca sets even one foot inside santiago bernabeu and it's not in the away-section liked by 12 others

username5 The Misa appreciation is spreading 😛 ↳ username6 and rightly so!! ↳ username7 I wonder who's behind that 🧐👀

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marisabel_rguez: Happy life. Liked by albaps9, bff2, jennihermoso and 18,329 others

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username1 we know who this is why dont u just tag her lmao srsly ↳ username2 Honestly, do they truly still think they're being slick 🤦‍♀️ ↳ username3 I don't even get the point in keeping it private, like what's the big deal? ↳ username4 maybe they just don't care but don't want to indulge people like you all

marialeonn16 😊

albaps9 ❤️ ↳ albaps9 but that tush will always be mine 😭

sofie.svava 💖

haleyraso Awww

username7 I love how they're slowly growing more comfortable letting the world in ):

sofiajakobsson 😘

bff1 ummm hey? hands to yourself. she's still my snookums until she officially has your last name 🤣 liked by alexiaputellas ↳ yourusername omg stop embarrassing me ↳ marisabel_rguez ✋🏽😳🤚🏽

ingridengen The sweetest together!

salmaparalluelo 😍

jennihermoso 👀

username4 You forgot the other half of the caption ↳ username5 Happy wife, happy life? ↳ username4 Ding-ding-ding! ↳ username6 don't think they'll get married so long as alexia is still lurking in the background 🤣

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yourusername: madrid, you were good to me!! (plus a little surprise i discovered at the petrol station on my way home. te amo mas que a la vida en sa) Liked by bff3, fridolinarolfo, haleyraso and 2,499 others

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albaps9 hmmm i wonder whyyyy liked by yourusername

salmaparalluelo Pls yn confirm that you-know-who and the anonymous admirer are the same person!! ↳ jennihermoso 👀 ↳ yourusername hehe ↳ janafernandez3 !!!!!!!!!!!!! ↳ ona.battle We want to know 😱 ↳ marialeonn16 Oh, but we know 😌 ↳ ingridengen yup!! ☺️ ↳ jennihermoso 👀 ↳ ona.battle ???

username1 the note in the car is the cutest 😔

username2 I want a Misa too, care to loan her out?

alexiaputellas Proud of you and how strong you are. You kept fighting and look at you now. You deserve all this happiness, ma germana petita. T'adoro. ↳ yourusername t'estimo tant tant tant

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yourusername: feliç diada de sant jordi, la meva gent🌹 Liked by ingridengen, alexiaputellas, albaps9 and 940 others

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marisabel_rguez Horrible choice of clothing, I should give you some of my shirts to wear ↳ yourusername you're acting as if half of them aren't already at my place ↳ marisabel_rguez Right where they should be 😉

bff1 feliç sant jordiiii

begovargas 🌹

alexiaputellas 🌹📖🐉🌹

marisabel_rguez And I love when you speak Catalan!!!! liked by yourusername

janafernandez3 feliç sant jordi, el meu amic 🌹

aitanabonmati Feliç Sant Jordi, YN!

claudiaapina feliç sant jordi! 😊

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↳ 5h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story ↳ 4h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story ↳ 1h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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marisabel_rguez: este camiseta 💪🏼 Liked by yourusername, sofie.svava, realmadridfem and 14,398 others

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alexiaputellas Visca Barca!!!!! ↳ yourusername be nice... 🤨

yourusername oh wow black is your colour too 🤭 ↳ yourusername (keeping the rest of my thoughts to myself bc alexia's lurking here) ↳ alexiaputellas Yes, behave... 🤨

sofie.svava looking gewd amiga!!! 😇

realmadridfem Nuestro orgullo 💪🏼🤩

haleyraso ✨👏

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username1: o-oka…okay.. ma’am 😳 Liked by username2, yourusername, username3 and 548 others

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username2 lucky person who gets to keep her ↳ username3 @/yourusername 👋 ↳ username12 how shallow of you ↳ username2 she's gorgeous??? and look at that smile 😪 ↳ username4 don't act like you didn't see the other two pics 🤥

username3 LOL HI YN

username4 yn we see you liking 🤣 ↳ username3 I can just imagine her kicking her feet and giggling

username1 okay i understand yn now ↳ username2 And you didn't before?!!?!? liked by 25 others ↳ username3 SHAME

yourusername 🤩🥹😳 liked by 120 others ↳ username5 and i oop- ↳ username10 🤣😭 ↳ username11 pls fangirl again it gave us life last time ↳ username6 girl don't hold back, we know what you're thinking ↳ username2 Alexia isn't here now, come on, let it go 🤭

username6 Misaaa

username7 😣

username8 🤯

username9 Hahaha Misa in that suit summoned yn again ↳ username10 can you blame her? 😱 ↳ username11 everything about that picture is making me swoon!

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yourusername: girl's trip to celebrate one of my besties getting married!!!! Liked by albaps9, bff2, bff3 and 5,439 others

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bff1 what happens in croatia stays in croatia

bff2 💃👩‍👩‍👧‍👧

username1 😍

judebellingham 😁😎 liked by 230 others

alexiaputellas Sunscreen! 😅 ↳ bff3 Don't worry, I'm on it! 😊 ↳ alexiaputellas 😊

username1 i want a friend group like that </3 ↳ username2 fr

albaps9 jealous!!

marisabel_rguez 😣

bff3 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

jennihermoso Guapa!

begovargas Sunflower in human form! 🌻

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Text Messages

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17:48 m 💌 I hope you're having a great time together. Don't forget to drink enough if you're out in the sun a lot! (And I don't mean alcohol, jajaja) ✓ m 💌 Ah, no... pls don't tell me you fell asleep in the sun again ☹️ m 💌 I have to go now so I'll call you later tonight. Te amo mas que nadie and take care!! ✓ 22:36 m 💌 Just saw your post. Are you trying to make me miss you even more? I miss seeing your gorgeous face, it always makes me so happy seeing you. m 💌 You know it’s been torture not having you around, right? m 💌 I miss you so much, YN ✓✓ you i miss you too, my love. the most. i'll be back before you know it! more rested than ever 😚💅🏽 and don't worry, i didn't fall asleep. we were on a boat! i'll tell you more in a bit on the phone. you soon we’ll see each other again, vale? we can go on a trip of our own. for now, just try not to miss me too much 😘 you sent you a photo ▼

m 💌 ○○○ m 💌 Oh, you fucking did not! you oh but i fucking did tho 🥺🥺🥺🙃 m 💌 YN. you si, chula? you ○○○ you misa? you i'm sorry you ☹️ Delivered

Incoming call m 💌

accept

"Are you alone right now?"

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a/n: wishing you the sweetest start of your week! i hope someone does something nice for you and if not, then here's a flower from me to you already 🌻

[kalims]

ㅤoh, face in the daylight.

— azul isn't sure if you're dating him, or his bed. also he's totally gonna deduct jade's pay.

your boyfriend's bed is comfy.

very, comfy. you're not sure if you're staying over for the nth' time for him or, the mere comfort his strange liquid-y bed brings you.

you asked once and honest grew more obsessed with it once he told you that it is actually made of water, of course sprinkled with a simple reinforcememt spell to make sure that it doesn't spill or split it half.

"it feels like where I used to sleep." he had answered shortly. "you just miss your pot, don't you?"

he explodes in an embarrassed hue of pink.

well to be fair he stopped sleeping around inside of it just because he wanted to sleep with you. (of course he didn't say it to your face but you're about 99% confident about it.)

azul sighs deeply. if he had ears and a tail to represent his feelings they'd have drooped to the ground. "my goodness... at this point I'll just have a room prepared here for you." but he smiles lightly at you, standing across the feet of the bed where you lay. you don't know if you're just being crazy but he puts of sleeping next to you whenever he can.

you swear! the last time you forcibly kidnapped him from his desk and dragged him in the bed he turned a vibrant hue of red, tense and unmoving.

you roll around his bed. "but I want to sleep with you."

azul makes this... kind of sound in his throat, a mix of a babble getting cut off and a gurgle of sorts. he immediately falls silent and looks down, he has to bite his wobbling lips lest he actually explodes. it might be easy for you to say so easily but just the notion that you feel the same sends a thousand of flutters in his stomach, everywhere to the point where he feels like he's floating.

the silence makes you concerned apparently because you raise your head from the myriad of fluffy covers and pillows to take a peek at him. "what?"

he coughs and assumes a smile too quick to be real. you've seen it a handful of times but you're not sure why his eyes and the edges of his mouth seem to be twitching. is he hot? because there's some kind of smoke coming out of his ears and fogging his glasses.

... for you it's quite freezing, maybe merman have different perception of temperature?

"by the way," you start. "do you have a spotify?"

you watch azul stumble in his steps as he makes his way to his desk, stopping to seemingly support himself before he falls down by gripping the table, and the top of his chair. he looks at you sort of... robotically. "why?" he queries quickly, looking away.

"I have one too, I wanna see what kind of music you're listening to." you say, fiddling with the sheet of a pillow and azul sighs. "no I do—"

you both turn to the door when it creaks open and jade steps in with a maniacally wide grin. which is almost never really that good, azul's face immediately grimaces at hardens at the admittedly unwelcome surprise visit.

or jade knows something—

"pardon my intrusion," he apologizes despite coming inside all the way. atleast he closed the door. he sees you on the bed and gives you a polite smile. "azul, your phone had shut off due to low battery so the music stopped." jade sighs. "could you open it so we can resume? the guests must be bored.."

you stare curiously. "oooo... where does azul listen?" jade slowly snaps his neck to look at you. (... he looks kind of pleased like everything he just said went to plan.) "where else? the ever popular spotify application."

azul directs a heap of fiery, sharp stare to jade that burns brighter everytime jade utters a word but the latter skillfully ignores it, he's probably received this kind of treatment already. jade knows the password to my phone even though he didnt ask, and my phone was charging while connected to the bluetooth. azul thinks.

this fool was definitely listening to your conversation.

"azul," you look at him. "give it to me."

he sighs deeply through his nose and gives jade a look that says 'get out'. jade grins at him, shrugging but ultimately going out when he's decided that he's caused enough chaos in azul's life for today. somehow he'll have to say no in the face of you despite the last time he did was... more than months ago...

to be fair you're hard to decline! he's totally not whipped or anything. whatever floyd described him, it's completely false.

he's gonna have to add more locks but knowing that tweel, if there's something to achieve inside he's getting in no matter what.

reluctantly he gives out his embarrassing user and you comment about his profile is you.

"did you make a playlist about me?" you quip curiously, idly scrolling around the list of songs in it and laughing to yourself. a contrast to your obvious amusement, azul looks mortified.

didn't he make those private?!

'if you see the unlocked icon it means it's only accessible for you.'

... that bastard jade ...

"awww.... you even put taylor swift in here! I knew I chose the right boyfriend!"

"what the—give me that!" he screeches, red.

what did you mean by that?! were there other options?! -> overthinking

[fiveroundliner]

Severance S2E1 spoilers - the Helly debate (pro Helly R.)

Okay so I think it’s definitely Helly R. and not Helena, and I need to put it down in writing in case I’m right lol

Firstly I think if they had the option to send Helena down there unsevered they would’ve done that already. Surely it’s less risky to her cause for her to just go down there, than for her to have an innie that doesn’t play along. So why would they let her down there now, but not at the start, or not after Helly threatened to maim her, or not even after the suicide? So I don’t think suddenly sending Helena down is an option. The severance chip is spacial so they’d have to bypass the chip or something to manage that, or have a reverse overtime contingency but then some poor sod is holding the levers all day. So I think logistically it can’t be Helena.

I see a lot of people pointing to Helly “fumbling” with the on switch as a reason for it not being Helly, but honestly I’ve watched the scene a couple of times now and it’s barely a fumble? She’s feeling for the switch because she’s not looking at it. I plug my phone in to charge ever night and I still can’t find the charging port first time. Also I think it was just a transition from the scene before of Milchick pressing the switch, I don’t think it was that deep.

I also see people saying that her insistence that their innies and outies are separate is because Helena obviously doesn’t view the innies as people, but I don’t think Helena would get that defensive about it in front of Mark, if she’s there to farm information why would that be so offensive to her? It is offensive to Helly because Helly is deeply ashamed of being an Eagan.

The story Helly comes up with about what she saw on the outside was obviously unrehearsed too, if it was Helena she’d have a much more convincing lie. The fact that Irv can poke holes in her story is because it’s Helly’s lie.

All the little mannerisms too, like her laughing at things Mark says, her smiling at him, the empathy she shows the Mark Dylan and Irv, how familiar she seems with them, it all points to Helly R for me. The few mannerisms that do seem odd to me can be explained by the fact that she’s still reeling from what she’s seen. And there are a couple of moments when she’s just in the background that you do kind of see her struggling. She’s definitely acting weird but idk if it’s “I’ve been replaced by my outie” weird. I think it’s “I’ve just had my whole world shattered” weird.

The last two pieces of evidence for me is the Dan Erickson interview where he says that obviously she’d hide her outies identity because of her shame, this tells me that it’s Helly we’re seeing lying about her outie, not Helena. And then Britt Lowers interview where she talks about how Helly and Helena are going on “separate but parallel journeys”, if Helena was posing as the innie now then we just wouldn’t get any Helly journey.

And the final point that I want to make is that if it is Helena I would kind of just be idk disappointed? Idk how to put it, it just doesn’t feel right to me.

I mean obviously there’s a chance she’s Helena not Helly, but I don’t think there’s really any definitive proof that she is yet, and I definitely have my doubts that that’s the direction the writers would go in. It’s a theory fans seem to have latched onto but idk I’m not convinced. But who am I to say. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Edit: the only doubt I had in my mind before was Helly’s exit from the elevator. The last we see is her being tackled, but then she’s running forward coming out of the elevator? And the trailer clip shows her coming up in the elevator, very much on guard saying “what the fuck.” which you’d assume is her coming to the office the first time. To me, these things don’t point to her being Helena. I think when we see her wake up, that was not her first time being woken up since the over time incident. She’s been woken up before, interrogated or intimidated, and the clip we see in the trailer is a flash back. This would also explain why she asks Mark how longs it’s been. Anyway I will probably continue updating this with theories as I think of them lol.

[sheluvv-gambino]

"You think you cute huh?"

pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader

summary : You are basically your boyfriends personal braider atp

warnings : none!

"Stop moving, Miles."

"Nah it's not my fault you keep pulling my hair, ma."

You were sat with Miles body inbetween your thighs as you were called over earlier to braid his hair.

You didn't have a problem with it infact you were quite excited since your boyfriend didn't let anyone except his mother touch his head and now you know why.

He's tenderheaded and the only one who dosen't 'pull' his hair is Mrs.Morales.

And anytime you try to bring it up he says the same thing

'I'm not tenderheaded it's just that my mama is the only one who does it how I like it'

yeah, sure.

"We're literally supposed to be going out tonight and you moving isn't making time go any faster, just relax." You say whilst trying to get the part right.

"Fine." He mutters looking up at you with his head tilted.

You make direct eye contact with him and kiss his forehead in a soothing matter with hopes it helps with his constant fidgeting.

As tenderheaded as that boy is your gentle braiding somehow calmed him enough that he fell asleep on your thigh. You take a quick picture giggling before deciding to wake him up from his slumber

"Miles," You whisper softly nudging his shoulder "Wake up, please."

"Mhm, I'm up." He groans.

You pass him the mirror and wrap your arm around his shoulder.

"You like it, babe?" You question quite anxiously waiting for his approval.

He shakes his head from side to side looking at every angle.

"Shit, mami!" He stands up and leaning over putting his hands on either side of you "This is fire, you gotta do this f'me more often."

You smile up at him and peck his lips.

Walking over to his desk to put your phone on charge you notice something familiar in your peripheral.

"You think you cute huh?"

"What?" He replies looking at you confused.

You silently hold up your bonnet and show it to the thief himself.

"Well how else am I supossed to sleep after getting my hair done, Mi sol." He smirks whilst snatching it out your hands and pulling you close to connect your lips.

Wow, he really be stealing everything even your heart.