#an internship but it feels weird to call it an internship. but that's what it is) and they were like come see us again from 4 to 5 later

[maddy-ferguson]

i have a crush on someone i met a month and a half ago who i only saw for a week then that i'm seeing again for a week now and that i'm gonna see for four more weeks from now until june this is what life is all about

[rambling-at-midnight]

Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

DC taglist:

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[mywritersmind]

TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME - KA12

summary : kimi has a crush and a shit way of dealing with it, you think he hates you.

listen up : not proof read lolz! requests are open!!

word count : 1683

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The cars zoom past me as I press my finger down and a series of clicks sounds from my camera. I smile, holding my camera up and making sure I got the shot I wanted.

I did.

I see a flash of red by the garage which makes me breathe out, Ollie just crashed and I know it freaked him out. I put my eye to my camera again, zooming in so I can see if he’s okay.

He is.

I snap some far photos of the garages, passing Ferrari, then McLaren, and right as I'm about to skip over Mercedes, something catches my eye.

Lewis isn’t the one who gets out of his car, but a smaller boy with a mess of brown curls. He claps one of the pit crew members on the back and smiles. As he turns to face the track, I get a full view of his face.

Kimi Antonelli.

I had forgotten about the boy who’s driving with Mercedes next year. Ollie was talking my ear off about it last week but still… I guess I was so focused on shooting the cars that I didn’t realize who was in it.

I snap a photo of him, the light hitting his face perfectly as he takes a deep breath.

I’ve never met him, but I was forced to follow Prema by Ollie so I know he fits into Ollie’s odd life perfectly.

I walk back into the ferrari garage, smiling at my boss who takes my camera from me. I’m doing an internship, specifically with Ferrari's media team. Once they found out I like photography, they let me have a camera and media access.

I smile at Ollie who shoots me a thumbs up, letting me know he’s okay. I end up eating alone while scrolling on my phone, some people walk past but because free practice 2 is happened, most people are watching.

I take a bite of my salad and scroll once more. I get a weird feeling after my third bite, and when I look up, it’s the last thing I expect.

Kimis there.

He’s still in his race suit, his hair messy and a water bottle in his hand. His eyes get big when I turn to him. I’m about to raise my hand to wave but he spins around and bolts in the other direction.

I laugh out loud but when I look around, no one’s there to have seen it.

That was… weird.

⋆༺

“Hey, Y/n!” Ollie yells to me across the paddock, he’s standing with Kimi and Jack Doohan. I smile and wave, saying goodbye to who I was speaking with, and flipping my hair over my shoulder before making my way over to them.

“Hey! Happy Quali day!” I smile at them, especially Jack because I haven’t seen him all weekend.

“What are you up to today?” The australian asks me, his hands in his pockets.

“Taking pictures mostly, trying to get a bad one of Charles, and watching Quali. How about you guys?” I turn pointedly towards Ollie and Kimi but the Italian has his eyes pointed elsewhere and his mouth shut.

“Kimi and I.” Ollie grips Kimis shoulder and practically forces him to look at me, he smiles softly but looks back at Ollie as he talks, “are doing the same! Minus the photos and stuff. Wanna grab lunch with us later?”

I nod, pulling out my phone as I get a call, “Shit, i’m so late! See you guys later!”

⋆༺

Quali is fun and the Mexican fans are absolutely exhilarating. After getting caught up with photos, I finally met Ollie and Kimi in the Ferrari hospitality.

Except there’s no Kimi.

I raise a brow as we sit down, “Does Kimi not like me?”

Ollie moves his food around, “Uh… I don’t think so. Why?”

I shrug, “I just get the feeling he doesn’t really enjoy my company. Which hasn’t been much around him.”

Ollie frowns, “No! He just had to shoot something for Mercedes. He wanted to come.”

⋆༺

You know those times where you wish you could go back in time just five seconds? That’s how I feel right now.

“No!” I yell as Kimi turns the corner with four coffees in his hands and runs directly into me. “Fuck!” I back away from him, shaking off my hands instantly.

“Ah!” He does the same, looking up at me slowly, “I am so sorry…” This is the first time he speaks to me? Seriously!?

I take a breath, trying to gain control of my mind that’s screaming. I peel off my sweater, luckily my shirt underneath is untouched.

“I- Shit.” I groan and wipe my arms off with my sweater, “What are you, an errand boy!? I thought I was the one with an internship.” He laughs at this, then slaps his hand over his mouth.

“I’m genuinely so sorry.” He shakes his head, everything on me now smelling like coffee. I look at his shirt which is partly splashed.

“It’s not fine but It wasn’t on purpose.” I shrug, just staring down at the coffee cups.

“I’m such an idiot.” He groans, “Look, I’ll buy you a coffee to make it up to you.”

I smile slightly, crossing my arms, “Coffee in Ferrari hospitality is free. I’m assuming it’s the same for Mercedes.” He shakes his head, looking horrified.

“That shit is gross. I know a place.”

The ‘Place’ in question is in the general admission area. He pulls on my ferrari hat for extra security and grabs our coffees quickly.

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing red.” We walk the back way, laughing. Maybe he doesn’t hate me? Or maybe he does and the coffee was all apart of some scheme.

He side eyes me, “Neither can I.” He pulls it off of his head, “Toto would kill me.”

Ollie finds us the second we step foot in the paddock, “Hey! Don’t tell me you became friends without me! Do not forget that I started this!”

“Yeah ok, Ol- I’ll give you friendship creds.” I pat his shoulder as he frowns.

⋆༺

It’s dark by the time I head out of the paddock, yawning, I notice Kimi on his phone. “Hey!” I say, smiling as he looks up at me.

Except his face does that weird thing again.

His cheeks go red and he looks like he’s forcing a smile. “Hi.” He says softly.

“Good day?” He nods, looking back at his phone and clearing his throat.

“Yeah.” He keeps it quick before walking away, “Bye.”

“Bye…?” Okay. So I don’t think I'm going crazy now because that was one weird ass conversation. If you can even call it that.

⋆༺

I wake up on race day and do my morning ritual, scrolling on instagram. I don’t go through all of my notifications often, but today something caught my eye.

Liked by Kimi Antonelli

The post is laughable, it’s from two years ago, Ollie and I were celebrating our birthdays since they fall on the same day.

Weird, Again.

I get ready and head out even though that stupid like is on my mind the whole time.

As if the universe is sending a message, I walk into the paddock at the same time as Kimi. He’s talking to his team member in fast italian and I ignore the fact that it’s 100% hot and focus on the fact that he 100% ignored me!

I call Ollie immediately, “Your friend hates me.”

I hear him laugh on the other side of the phone, “Kimi?”

“See! You already know who I'm talking about!” I groan as I enter Ferrari hospitality.

“Y/n. I think you just make him nervous.”

I stop dead in my tracks, “What?”

“Look, I absolutely love you. But you have a total resting bitch face!” I scoff at him even though I know it’s true, “He sees you taking photos a lot and even though I try to get him to talk to you, he’s like scared or some shit. I think he thinks you’re pretty too.”

I hang up.

⋆༺

I watch from the garage, spirits are high but I find myself distracted as Kimis face comes up on the screen.

Why is he so cute?

I bite my lip and think. I want him to like me. I want him to be friends with me like how he is with Ollie! So why can’t he see that? I mean, there’s a possibility he just doesn’t like me.

In that case, that’s fine! I just want to know.

My thoughts are how I find myself cornering him with my arms crossed and my actual bitch face on.

“Um… yes?” He looks scared.

“Do you not like me, or something?” He frowns, “I mean- If you don’t, that’s fine! But I don’t fuck with people who aren’t honest. Because I know i’m not completely likable to everyone and genuinely I don’t care if you don’t like me but I sorta hope you do because Ollie is my friend and Ollie is your friend and he wants us to be friends!” I take a breath.

Kimi just blinks, “I do like you.”

I roll my eyes.

“I just… felt embarrassed.” I raise a brow. Embarrassed? “I dumped coffee on you! And then I liked that post which had Ollie telling me to stop screaming into my pillow.” I laugh at that. “I just… I'm not good with pretty girls.”

That has me frozen.

“And you’re like scary pretty.”

I laugh, smiling, “You’re totally boosting my ego right now.” He just called me pretty.

He rolls his eyes, standing up straighter, “I’m sorry for being awkward.”

I sigh dramatically, “It’s fine.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, smirking, “My good looks just stuns people sometimes-”

He pushes my shoulder, “Oh fuck off!” I laugh with him, his cheeks red again, “Can I make it up to you?”

I bite my lip, hiding my smile, “Pick me up at 8.”

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-two

759 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one

Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H

You’d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?

Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 

It only makes him think, though. 

Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?

What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 

On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 

The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 

For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 

The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 

Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 

Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 

Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 

It’s a drawing. 

A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 

Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 

Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 

Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 

Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H

twenty-three

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[babywriter]

Yeah, graduating from college felt pretty good. And, hey, you were leaving without debt! Actually, soon enough, you’ll have enough to buy a house. A little help from the parents here, a little scholarship there, a little paid internship here. I mean, things were really good. The only real downer here was your love life. Or social life even. It went real south, real fast. First thing was when you broke up with your boyfriend. It just…wasn’t working out. But then, one of your best friend, Eric, seeing as you were now single, decided to spill his feelings for you. Bad call on his part, you two stopped talking.

It’d been almost two years since you’d seen Eric, but then you got a text from him out of the blue. Strangely enough, his profile picture was that of a girl and his name was…Erica? You thought Eric was this straight cis dude, turns out he wasn’t! While you did miss Eric, you weren’t sure you would’ve answered a text from him. Erica on the other hand? You had hope that she was completely over you.

“Come in, come in.” said Erica’s mother. “She’s in the living room.”

You had been briefed that she was regressed. But still. This was a lot to take in. She was so pretty! And so cute! An absolute doll. But seeing a twenty-two-year-old woman dressed like that felt pretty weird. Pigtails, pacifier…a toy in her hand and a frilly dress on her. She looked so sweet, though. Then, you saw that huge bulking diaper.

When you talked to Erica, it felt like talking to your old friend, but a childish and feminine version of that old friend. A side you hadn’t really seen. She’d been regressed for a while now and, as it turns out, was into men! You did feel a bit giddy about that news. She wasn’t going to be into you anymore! Not only that, but it seemed you’d just made a girlfriend. Erica was easy to talk to and you were both so open to each other and you got to gush about your love troubles with the guys you were seeing recently and Erica got to daydream about wanting a big strong daddy to pick her up.

After a few hours, Erica’s diaper was soaked and needed changing. This was your signal that it was time to leave. But you couldn’t help yourself and offered to adopt Erica or at the very least babysit her. To have a babygirl like that would be so, so much fun, you thought.

When leaving Erica’s house, you daydreamed of a life with a boyfriend and your babygirl. Able to live your fantasy of a family life while giving your babygirl the mommy and daddy she wants. You could take her to the park, change her diapers, breastfeed her. All the mommy things! Your boyfriend wouldn’t be threatened after all Erica was a girl in diapers, a baby! And Erica wouldn’t mind one bit you’d have a boyfriend to have sexy time and go on dates with. I mean, what a life!

Photo credit: adultbabysource.com

For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter

[xxblairexxss]

Who are you?

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff, I think?

Word count : 2.4k

Requested!

Part 2 Part 3

You got into an accident on your way to work with a guy who drove Ferrari Pista 488 with the number 16. Weird thing was that everyone kept calling his name as if he was a celebrity.

Just a light one. Haven’t proofread!

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"The audacity of him! And then what did you say?"

Your mom thought your decision to accept an internship in Monaco out of all countries was solely because you could talk to your best friend, Linda, without having a problem with the time difference. It just happened to be on your side, though. Instead of listening to her story about her stupid ex before you went to bed, you had to get ready, so she had become your favourite podcast to listen to on your way to work.

"I said nothing." She winced, even before you screamed.

"What?! You let him disrespected you like that! Oh my God! Why?! I would have punched —“ The sound of a car horn kicked through your AirPods, taking over the voice of your friend. There wasn’t enough time for you to react when the black car came approaching so fast, cringing along the sound of a car honk that seemed to be echoing within the small town that you would have thought it would send you straight to heaven. It turned out your mind wasn’t ready for today to be your last day on earth, so you tried to run across the road and fell flat against the friction.

You were expecting to wake up surrounded by clouds, just like how the cartoons pictured the afterlife, until you felt a touch on your shoulder. "Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you—"

"I would have punched you in the face." You muttered, what was supposed to be something directed towards Linda’s ex boyfriend.

"Woah, okay. I’m really sorry. Here," He offered a hand and pulled you up; that was when the pain hit your nerves, making you bend over and wince. 

"Ow! What is wrong with you?!" The man was pushed away and staggered at the outburst. "It was a red light. Are you blind?"

"Okay, I’m really sorry; that was totally my fault. Let me take you to the hospital."

You retracted your arm from his hand relentlessly, limping your way to the roadside. "Leave me alone."

"You are bleeding!" He argued and tried to offer his hand for you to hold as he was you struggled to walk.

"I know! I have eyes."

"You need to treat those cuts. Just let me take you to the hospital."

You tried to hobble away from the man, but the pain had set a limit to your pace. "I don’t even know you. Go away."

"Okay, my name is—" 

"Charles! Everything good?" He looked up, surprised to hear his name being called out so sudden, and gave a thumbs up back to the waiter of the restaurant.

"You heard him. I’m Charles. You have a witness there," You looked back at the direction he pointed with his chin. “if I do something bad to you. Can you get in my car so I can take you to the hospital now? I’m kinda in a rush."

"If you are rushing, then you can just go. Don’t let me hold you up." Charles shut his eyes, tilting his head back. He knew he had misspoken because you were going to say yes before he mentioned about time. "Okay, okay! I’m not. I’m not in a rush at all. So, please, get in the car."

"Are you sure? Cause I can just —“

"No. I mean, yes. I’m very sure." He extended his hand, which you finally held while you limped your way to the car.

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This was your second tissue, which you had been pressing on your cuts. You just found out your chin was bleeding as well when you saw the reflection on his window.

"Do you need water?" He twisted open the mineral water bottle and offered it to you. You were so quiet, it made him feel restless. He would rather hear you curse him out than this eerily silent. "The hospital is 5 minutes away. Does it hurt a lot?"

"It’s not that serious. Don’t worry." You turned from looking out the window, eyes scanning through the buildings of the city, towards him, frowning in suspicion. "How did he know you? The waiter."

"He has seen me a lot. It’s a small town, after all. Are you a student?" He saw you were carrying a bag of laptop with a few files, which he had placed at the back of the car, so you were obviously not a tourist. It left him with two answers. Either you were a student or you just moved here, because if you had been living here for a while, you wouldn’t ask the question. He wasn’t saying everyone would know him, but they would at least aware of who he was.

"No, I’m doing my internship."

"How long has it been?" He queried.

"2 weeks, I think." You looked out the window as he drove into the hospital area. "You can just drop me here. I’ll be fine."

"No, it’s okay. You need help from a local, so that would be me. Can you walk?" His seatbelt retracted as he clicked on the unhook button and helped you register your name and details at the registration counter while you were asked to just sit and wait.

"Hi, Charles!"

"Oh my God! It’s Charles!"

"Are you Charles Leclerc? What are you doing here?"

It felt like you must have had a permanent wrinkles in between your brows, as you had been frowning for minutes whenever people called out his name. Sure, it was a small town, but did that mean everyone knew everyone to this point?

"Are they your friends?" He leaned in, moving his ear closer to hear your question.

"No, they are not my friends. They have seen me a lot too." The way he replied was so nonchalant, but it still didn’t make any sense to you.

"That doesn’t really make any sense." You commented, still frowning.

"It makes sense in Monaco." He looked away and bit his lips, trying to hold his chuckle.

The medical staff explained to you every cream and medicine you needed to take and when it was needed, while Charles joined in as well, listening as if it had anything to do with him.

"Can we get your phone number so we can call for a follow-up treatment on your sprained wrist?"

"Oh, my Monaco phone number? Give me a second." You just happened to find out that your phone was badly damaged in the accident right when you tried to turn it on. It probably had to do with you trying to stop your fall without realising it was in your hand, so the screen was cracked and it was just a black screen. You were forgetful and had written your new phone number in your notes so you wouldn’t get charged for accepting calls from a foreign country, but it was impossible to check your notes if your phone couldn’t even turn on.

"Use mine. If anything, just call me." Charles stepped in and wrote down his phone number, leaving you stunned. "And here’s my card. I’ll pay for everything."

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"Thank you for sending me home. Oh, my phone!" He had helped you bring your stuff all the way to your apartment, though you had assured him that you could carry your own things. Just when you were about to take the last thing of yours in his possession, he moved his hand away before you could take it. "I need my phone back?"

"It doesn’t even work."

"Okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw it away." Charles brought the phone higher when you tried to snatch it, smiling like an idiot when he saw you were glaring at him.

"I’ll get it fixed and give it back to you."

"I don’t need your help anymore. Give it back! I’ll get it fixed myself." You disagreed, refusing to owe him even more, but he stepped back and slipped the phone into his back pocket.

"You still need me for your follow-up treatment. You used my phone number, remember? I’ll see you in a few days once it’s fixed. Don’t forget to put the cream and your medicine." He walked away after giving you a nod out of curtesy.

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"Was he hot?"

Though your phone was broken, you still wouldn’t miss a daily update from your best friends. After explaining everything, including every single detail of what happened earlier, Linda’s main focus was to ask that. Not your sprained wrist, not your cuts—nothing about you, but all about the man you had told her about.

You rolled your eyes and continued to spread the cream on the cut on your leg, still engaging in the conversation from the video call on your Macbook. "He was cute. You know, apparently everyone here knows everyone. Crazy, isn’t it? Everyone kept on calling his name ‘Charles! Charles!’ as if he were some kind of celebrity, but it was actually very common. I was shook because—"

"Wait, what did you say?" She intervened.

"I said I was shook."

"No, before that. What was his name?" Linda asked, seemingly typing something on her laptop.

"Charles? Charles Lec something?"

"Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She shrieked, making you jump and scream along.

"What the heck?" You bawled as she started talking nonsense. "Slow down! What are you trying to say?"

"Is this the guy that helped you?" She brought the phone and switched to the back camera so you could see the picture on her laptop.

"Yeah? Why is his face everywhere in the Google images?" That was weird. Though you were treated like a celebrity in Monaco, why would you put out your pictures on the Internet in public, with not just one but more than what seemed to be normal for someone who just lived in Monaco?

"He’s a fucking F1 driver, you idiot! Oh my God, you are so dumb, Y/N!" Linda called out, feeling frustrated for her friend, who had to be the smartest in class but not street-smart.

"What?! But he told me that everyone knew him because they just saw him a lot." You argued back and tried to make it make sense to your friend, who seemed to be so disappointed.

"Yeah? Because he’s driving for Ferrari and he’s a Monegasque? Obviously, everyone has seen him a lot. You are so dumb."

"2 weeks in this new country, and I have already humiliated myself. I’m just going to ask him to leave my phone in front of the door so I don’t have to see him again, right?" You don’t think you could look at him in the eye anymore because you were so embarrassed that you might need 2 to 3 months to move on.

"I don’t know. To me, it sounds like he wanted to get to know you."

"Cut the crap, Linda."

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"I can’t just leave your phone out here." Charles came and rang your doorbell a few days later. You had been yelling behind the door, trying to make him go so you wouldn’t have to see him again, but he just wouldn’t let it pass.

"Just leave it there!" You replied back the other side of the wood door.

"Are you hurt?" He replied back, knocking on your door this time.

"No!"

"Okay, then why can’t you come out?" Charles could have just done what you asked him to do, but he wanted to see how your cuts were doing, if they were still bleeding.

And he also wanted to see you because he just felt so.

"Fine, I’m leaving it here. Make sure to not leave it outside for too long. Someone might steal it away." He remarked before walking away, knowing you had been peeking from the peep hole.

"Finally!" The door pulled open after you waited for two minutes, giving him enough time to take the elevator and left.

Until you saw him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had this smirk on his face, as if he expected you to be dumb enough and fell in his trick, which you actually did.

"Finally what?" He strode closer, arms still crossed, as he looked down on your legs to see the cut had started to heal. "Hm?" Charles carefully tilted your face up to see your chin and nodded when it wasn’t as red and bleeding as it was a few days ago. "Did I do something wrong? Why can’t you just come out?"

You grinned and walked back into your apartment, pushing the door shut with your body. "Okay, you can go home now. I’ll call the hospital to ask them to change the phone number back to mine. Thank you!”

"Wait! Why are you acting so weird?" He blocked the door and tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes because you had been looking everywhere but at him.

"Why didn’t you tell me who you are? Here I thought everyone in Monaco would call out people’s names as if they were celebrities, and you actually turned out to be one?" Your tone went higher while you pointed your hand at him, as if he were an artefact in a museum and you were a museum guide.

"I’m not exactly a celebrity. Just an athlete. How did you know?" He asked in a very light way, like this whole situation was fun for him.

"My friend showed me your picture, and I still didn’t trust her, so I went on Google myself and typed…" You pressed your lips, squeezing your eyes shut, because you knew you were just going to humiliate yourself even more if he found out about this.

"And typed in what?" Charles repeated your last sentence.

"Charles Monaco." Your hand covered your eyes instantly while he burst out laughing. He would have left with a bruised nose if only you could slam the door in his face right now, but you wouldn’t want to be charge with assaulting the famous guy in this town. "Yeah, whatever. Can you step back because I’m trying to close the door?"

"So, that’s it?" I nearly hit you with my car, sent you to the hospital, fixed your phone, and that’s it?"

You furrowed your brows. "What else do you want?"

"How about I give you a tour around the town? I’ve lived here all my life. No one knows every corner of this town except me." He rested his hand on the door when he saw you try to close it again. "Are you sure you want to miss this one chance to be with Charles Monaco?"

"You are so annoying!"

“Your next appointment is in two days. I’ll pick you up at 10 a.m." He walked away, still wearing the cocky smile that made you want to punch him so bad.

"I can go on my own. I’m not going to open the door for you next time!" You stood outside the hallway, shouting back as he went even further.

"Then I’m gonna barge into your apartment. I’m Charles Monaco; I can do whatever I want."

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when someone won't stop sending you messages.

AN: Just an unexpected prompt because a former classmate of mine won't stop sending me messages! (Weirdo) 

Mark Lee

Mark knows about that guy who you met at your internship. He won't stop chatting you in your social media that you started worrying. "Just mute him," Mark said because he knows that it's hard for you to block and unfollow people who you used to be close with him. You only follow your boyfriend's order and mutes the guy's account on your social media. "If he chats you again, just tell me." Mark said one last time. 

Huang Renjun

It's frustrating because you already ignored him on your Instagram, now he's on your Twitter dm. You couldn't help but to let out a frustrated sigh because why can't guys take a fucking hint!? But in a split second, Renjun grabs your phone and you weren't able to stop him from chatting a long-ass message to the guy, telling him to fuck off because he's being a creep, and then presses send. "Don't worry, I put my name below, he should know that you're taken."

Lee Jeno

You only stared at your phone. You don't know what to do when your former classmate sent you another message. He's weird for pressing likes on your ig stories and now, he creepily sent you a "hi." You know that he has some hidden intentions, that's why suddenly, Jeno grabs your phone and sees what you've been staring at. "Jeno ---" "Blocked him for you," your boyfriend said, returning your phone to you. "You shouldn't let people make you uncomfortable." 

Lee Donghyuck

"What's his name?" Haechan asked when you told him that your former friend sent you a message once again. You stared at your boyfriend but it seems like he was serious about sending the guy a message since you told him that you're starting to feel uncomfortable with the unsolicited messages. You told him the guy's name and you watch Haechan type on his phone with a serious look. Minutes after, he looks at you and gently smiles, "That'll stop him."

Na Jaemin

You opened your concern to Jaemin when you found out that you had a missed call from your former classmate. It used to be just him sending you a message and no matter how many times you ignore his messages, he would still send you messages. You were in the middle of your rant when you heard your phone's ringtone. Jaemin only smiled at you, asking for your phone in which you gave without any hesitations. "Don't worry princess, I got you." Jaemin said before his expression turned into a serious one. 

Zhong Chenle

"Let me see," Chenle looks at the chatbox. It contains nothing but tons of message from that guy you met at a bar, and that was years ago! You were surprised when he started spamming you with messages. "What's his number?" he asked and you only looked at your boyfriend. "Come on, he won't stop unless someone told him to fuck off," you were convinced, giving him the guy's number, and you watch as Chenle let out string of curses at the guy, telling him to stay away from you. 

Park Jisung

First, you can't block him because he's a former classmate of yours. Your other classmates will know that you did it and you don't want to cause any drama. Even though you ignored him numerous times, he still won't stop chatting you, even sending you a text message as if he was desperate. Jisung had enough of it, he grabs your phone, blocks him on your phone and returns your phone to you. "If he chats you one more time, I'll expose him if that means shutting him up." your boyfriend said while wearing his sweetest smile. 

[keisobe]

little bit of self-indulgence but may i request college au! miguel (you can make him a professor, fellow student up to you) tutoring reader with a bit of suggestive content ;)

☆ﾟ°˖ 𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚) ⋮ heavily suggestive (borderline smut). professor + student relationship. not completely proofread. ⎯ miguel cannot keep his hands off his favorite student

professor miguel had a major soft spot for you. yes, a very unethical practice as he was your superior, but he couldn’t help himself. your sickly soothing voice calling him ‘sir’ or even ‘mr. o’hara’ would play in the back of his mind while he prepped for his next lab. the permanent eye contact he would hold with you during his long lectures left him flustered throughout the whole day. he would even give small compliments here and there about your work— a rare thing anybody could ever receive.

he even personally recommended you to the most prestigious internship in alchemax (as a previous senior engineer that worked for the company itself, call it nepotism). boasting about your skills and intellect with lustrous eyes until he catches himself mid sentence. putting aside his thought process, miguel chugged down his hot coffee and held it in— even if it did burn the entirety of his mouth cavity. he spat it out in the nearest bathroom afterwards.

he cannot feel like this, especially for his student.

but when you graced your presence in his empty office, asking sweetly for tutoring lessons over the summer— he immediately gave in.

now he found himself looming over your smaller frame, gazing down at your hands, fiddling with the steel pen he personally gifted to you when you were accepted into the internship (though he never told you how you even got in). the air felt off without other students bustling in and out of his lab, occupying the other seats as they asked their professor’s personal insight. it was just you and him, alone.

“something wrong?” miguel, usually stern with his voice, softly asks you when he notices the furrow in your brows.

upon his concern, the conflicted look on your face melted into a cheeky smile. miguel couldn’t help but feel relieved that he didn’t upset you when he was carefully dissecting the notes and research you asked help on. but what surprised him was your next statement.

“we’re finally alone, it’s weird to think that, right?”

if he was drinking coffee right now, he would’ve spat it out from utter shock. there were thoughts, very inappropriate thoughts that crossed his mind when he thought about this predicament. yes you’re right, nobody else was here, not even his coworkers that would rudely interrupt him when he graded assignments (ahem peter) can catch the both of you.

“yeah… you’re right.”

he left it at that, but his eyes fell down to your mouth— the pretty gloss adorning your lips left miguel thinking about your body being propped between his legs, the fly of his slacks down as the softness of your hands tracing around his exposed skin.

“mr. o’hara, are you okay?” you leaned closer to miguel with fluttering lashes, tilting your head to the side with a small smile.

your feigned innocence drove him crazy, to the point he was clawing at the arms of his chair. he was completely restrained, bound by his title, bound by his position— it was slipping away from his grasp and into your pretty hands. shit, all this self-discipline and you weren’t even touching him.

at the end, miguel really couldn’t help himself.

“fuck– i can’t— please come here.” miguel initially planned for a more intimate tone, but he was completely desperate.

immediately, you stood from your seat and walked over to his side of the desk that created a barrier between the two of you for the last three hours. before you had the chance to situate yourself between his legs, his rough hands met you halfway as he held your waist— pressing you down abruptly onto the cold surface that elicited a sharp screech from one of the legs of his desk. with your face and chest pinned down, miguel had a perfect display of your frame.

you felt a warm press against your ass, his death grip guiding your hips onto his erection while he let out a strangled groan from the contact. you began to take control of your own hips, grinding down onto his hardness as miguel slowly came more and more undone. beads of sweat dripped onto the notes splayed across the desk, accompanied with his deep-throated groans that he failed to suppress in his throat.

suddenly, his weight came crashing down onto you, but his hips still sputtered against you. miguel was burning; his skin heated with lust and his sweaty palms continued to grope and pinch and squeeze and take and take all of you in his touch.

“please sir…” you whimpered out, looking into his intense gaze with anticipation.

miguel’s breath fanned your cheeks as he threaded a comforting hand through your hair, then immediately, he gripped your scalp tightly that left your vision blurry with tears. his other hand sneakily reaches between the plushness of your thighs, dragging sharp nails along your untainted skin.

“miguel…” he mumbled with a heavy pant, the buckle of his belt clanking against the floor as his ironed pressed slacks pooled around his ankles. “call me miguel for tonight.”

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[kaanagen]

KLOKLLEGE [ METALOCALYPSE AU]

This is a college AU with Dethklok, written by someone in college as a form of escapism. Let me point out some of their main traits in this universe:

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

24 y/o

Music course

Guitar prodigy

Not that egocentric but already pretty smug and vain

Figuring himself out, but manages to charm a lot of girls with minimal effort

Lives on the college campus

Popular enough to make him worry about his image and what people think of him

Goes to a lot of parties

Works part-time at an antique store on the other side of town so people won't find him and see him as "lesser"

Toki Wartooth

20 y/o

Initially came to study Theology, then switched to Fine Arts but is considering changing to Music after meeting Skwisgaar

Christian but non-practicing

Lives on the college campus

Considered the "weird guy" after becoming friends with Murderface

Not many friends

Ran away from home and forged documents to get an internship to study in America

With no financial help from his parents, works part-time at an antique store and does various gigs around town, which is how he met Skwisgaar and Murderface

Plays guitar as a hobby and is quite good for being self-taught, which helps him land a few gigs

Develops a crush on Skwisgaar as they start working together, but has conflicted views about his sexuality due to his upbringing

Purposely ruins Skwisgaar's dates as they grow closer through their job

Pickles

26 y/o

Initially not in college, but Nathan convinces him to enroll in the Music course

Doesn't get his piercings until after he meets Nathan

Ran away from home and has been living in the back of his family's stolen car for nearly two years

Goes to parties for free food, booze and drugs

Met Nathan after cutting himself while high and drunk at a party—they’ve been friends ever since

Pro at shoplifting

Befriends Skwisgaar after hearing him play at a party

After enrolling in college, Toki offers to help him study, but they can never focus

Has a situationship with Nathan that he's too scared to call anything else

Nathan Explosion

25 y/o

In college for American football

Only got through high school by excelling in football so that was his only notion to go forward

Part of an underground fight club so it's normal for him to be bruised

Pretty popular in his class

Goes to a lot of parties but keeps a low profile

Met Pickles at a party after Skwisgaar bailed on him to study for an exam

His mom enrolled him in a singing class once a week to help him talk more, but no one really knows about it

William Murderface

23 y/o

Wouldn’t be caught dead studying in college after threatening his high school principal into graduating him

Only in college because, once Toki befriended him through one of his gigs, he never left

Lives in Toki’s dorm rent-free to avoid going home to his grandparents

Has a bad reputation that rubbed off on Toki, making them the "weirdo duo"

Used to go to parties, but after getting beaten up trying to hook up with a girl, he gave up on hanging out with the college jackoffs

Doesn't know he has sleep apnea that keeps Toki awake at night

Helps Toki find gigs but usually messes things up, thinking he’s helping (and always asks for a cut of the money for his "help")

Some content I already made for Klokllege:

Pickles and Nathan's first encounters

First contact / The aftermath

Skwisgaar and Toki's soft feels

Glances

[gguk-n]

Pivotal choice (Carlos Sainz x Race Engineer!Vowels!Reader)

Summary- Just as the summer break 2024 started Carlos Sainz Jr announced that he would be joining Williams Racing from 2025 onwards. Everyone thought it was because James Vowels was persistent little did they know, Carlos's decision rested in Vowel's daughter's hand who was currently working as a race engineer at Williams.

There had been a shift in Williams from the start of 2024 season, it wasn't visible to the world but anyone in Formula One could see it. James Vowels, it seems was making the right decisions, but in actuality it was his daughter, Y/N who had just joined as a race engineer who was calling the shots during race strategies and giving her opinion to her dad which helped him make decisions. She was the reason Logan got his first point last year and the reason Alex was able to compete for points. That's how her and Logan had grown closer together since they were closer in age and had the same sense of humour.

Vowels spent a lot of his time courting Carlos Sainz Junior, especially after he had lost his seat to Lewis Hamilton in the start of the season much to his daughter's dismay. She couldn't believe her father was being so irrational and persistent which translated into her growing annoyance and hatred for the Ferrari driver. Y/N had caught Carlos's eyes the first time her dad had dragged her along to dinner with Carlos after the race. She had made sure to let her father and the potential Williams driver know of her annoyance at being dragged here and the fact that they were possibly making Logan seatless for next year.

She remembers it like yesterday when her dad after much deliberation and push had resigned Logan. She had even offered to be his race engineer to help him; her dad didn't think she could do much but agreed. She was currently not only Logan's race engineer but his therapist. So, you can imagine how much she was hating being here. Vowels got up to use the restroom leaving the two together; Y/N ate her food quietly not even looking up. "I heard you're Logan's race engineer" Carlos began. She nodded. "I know it must be difficult to sit and have dinner with the guy who might take your drivers seat. I'm sorry but the world of motorsports is cut throat and" she cut Carlos off with "I know, I'm just salty dad's being like this since Logan has potential if given the right chances, not looking for a replacement." she said looking into his eyes. Carlos's breath hitched in his throat, those were beautiful eyes he thought. "Again I'm sorry but I need to weigh all my options" he continued. "I know" she hung her head down while continuing to cut into her food. Her father was back soon, trying to cozy up and butter Carlos up. There was a perpetual grimace on her face apart from her usual frown.

The dinner couldn't end any sooner because Y/N bolted out with a quick good bye. Carlos was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this girl who looked at him with more disdain than Logan himself. Carlos found himself looking at her whenever she was around or searching for her during race weekends. He had found out from Alex that she was James Vowel's only daughter; extremely smart since she graduated from mechanical engineering and masters in automobile. She had used her connections to land good internships so that her being hired by Williams wouldn't be weird. She was a nepo baby who knew what she wanted and how to get it. To add insult to injury, she was friends with Logan which explained the disdain. Carlos found her interesting; she was funny from what he had gathered and found himself laughing at her jokes when he would over hear her conversations, she was pretty which he had decided the first time he saw her walk in with her dad, she was close with not only Logan Sargeant but Oscar Piastri who she didn't glare at like she would glare at him from time to time. It was starting to hurt Carlos's feelings.

The next time they met, Y/N looked even more annoyed with his presence then she could've been the last time they met, he thought. She was being dragged along by her dad again even though she threatened to run away. "Dad, I'm not having dinner with him. For goodness sake, let me mourn in peace." she snapped. "I don't get what you're mourning. Having Carlos on Williams is what we need. Also, I would like you to be his race engineer. Both of you are smart and will make a great team, I can already see it" Vowels reasoned trying to get his daughter to see the bigger picture. "Well I don't. I'll be Alex's engineer if Logan's no longer on the team" she stated. "You do not get a say in today's dinner, we'll discuss your plans for next year later. Now get dressed before I fire you" he commanded. "Ugh, that's why I didn't want to work for you. Even Sauber would've been fine at this point" she whined. "Well, we have points and they don't" he snapped. "Would've had more, had you not fucked Logan over" she snapped back and went to get dressed. "Language missy" James shouted back at her.

Carlos was bearing the brunt of much of Y/N's annoyance who got jabbed in her rib by her dad about 4 times since they sat down and the food wasn't even out yet. "I really want you and Y/N to get along since I feel like if you join Williams, Y/N would be a good fit as your race engineer even though she's a rookie. I'm not just saying this because she's my daughter." Vowels told Carlos. "Well, I'm not a good fit for him" she muttered. "If you'll excuse us Carlos" Vowels said sternly dragging her out, "I swear, if you do not behave I will drop Logan right now, God knows how much I want to" he seethed. "dad" she whispered with tears in her eyes. "Now, you'll walk in and be on your best behaviour." he commanded. She nodded and quickly wiped away her tears and walked in with her dad. Carlos noticed the sudden shift, her demeanour sadder and hurt, not the usual snappy and sarcastic self. Dinner ended without anymore hiccups, Y/N only nodded her head along to whatever her dad had to say.

Carlos wasn't sure what Vowels told his daughter which made her look like a puppy that had been kicked. But he did ask the restaurant they were eating at to pack him an assortment of their best dessert; he had heard from the others that she loved desserts, maybe this would cheer her up, he thought. He grabbed the bag before exiting the restaurant and handed it to her, her dad was waiting for the valet to bring his car who was now watching the pair interact. "What's this?" she asked. "Something to cheer you up" Carlos said. "I don't want it and you don't need to cheer me up" she said trying to hand him the bag back. "I know but I want to" he clarified. "You're already in my dad's good books, you don't have to try this hard" she said. "I don't want to, I want to be in your good books" Carlos smiled. Y/N's heart skipped a beat watching him smile, this was weird. "I don't think you can be" she corrected. "Well then, just enjoy the food. Don't think about it too much" he leaned into whisper in her ear, winking at her before climbing into his car which was ready for him. Y/N was staring at the bag in her hand and the driver that just handed it to her before leaving. She felt guilty now for treating him like shit when he was just trying to stay in the sport like anyone would.

She was in her home, slowly unboxing the package from Carlos which had a collection of macaroons, donuts, cheesecakes, red velvet cakes. This was so much food for anyone, she could have this for a couple days. The next time she meets Carlos, she should thank him, she thought as she took a bite of the coffee flavoured macaroon which tasted too good to even be real.

She got to meet Carlos in the next race, instead of running away or frowning like she had been doing the past couple months, she smiled at him and walked up to him; Carlos thought he was dreaming. The Y/N Vowels was walking up to him, it felt unreal, he almost pinched himself. "Thanks for the sweet treats, I loved them." she said. "That's a relief, I wasn't sure what you liked so I got you a few of everything" he replied. "Well, next time you wanna get me something, there is this patisserie in Paris." she began. "Tell me the address and I'll bring that to you next time" he interrupted. "I was just kidding. I enjoyed them. Thanks but that doesn't mean I'm okay with whatever is happening" she corrected. "If it means you'll stop looking at me like I killed a man than that's a win in my books" he laughed. She waved him off and walked away to the Williams garage.

"Were you talking to Y/N?" Lando asked. "yeah" Carlos said. "Why? Fancy her?" Lando laughed. "Maybe" Carlos thought out loud. "Mate, I think she likes Logan or something" Lando said immediately. "Really?" Carlos asked, a little hurt. "Yeah, I think that's what Oscar was talking about to Lily or something, I just over heard them anyways" Lando shrugged.

Carlos didn't think he liked Y/N, not until Lando asked him. That's when he realised that he did. There was a reason he tried so hard to make her like him and wished she would talk to him in all those dinners. He felt like he understood why she was being so annoyed with him since he would possibly replace the guy she liked. Carlos was a little hurt, he wished that was a piece of information Lando hadn't passed onto him.

Y/N on the other hand, found herself thinking about Carlos a lot, since he tried to cheer her up. She realised that she was being too harsh on Carlos when it was not his fault and if there was anyone she should be angry at was her dad and not Carlos. She found herself looking through his race stats and his strategies. She couldn't help but admire him for his craft. Maybe, she was being a little too unwelcoming. Obviously, she would fight tooth and nail for Logan; her dad wasn't having his way this easily.

The next dinner, Y/N felt like Carlos wasn't talking to her like the previous dinners. He would try to get her input on anything and listen intently even if she was bad mouthing him but right now, he was talking only business with her dad. She had decided to be civil today and didn't even make a snide remarks. A part of her was hurt, maybe she deserved it after the shitty way she had been treating Carlos. Dinner took forever to end, for other reasons than the previous ones. She tried to strike up a conversation with Carlos but nothing came of it.

A few weeks later, her father had stopped pestering her to tag along to dinners with Carlos. She was happy this way, until at family dinner. "I think I'm close to signing Carlos" James told his wife. "That sounds wonderful, darling" she remarked. "What do you mean?" Y/N almost shouted. "Not having you around seemed very fruitful to me, considering you're always frowning at the poor guy" your father corrected. "You can't kick Logan out without giving him a fair chance." she pointed out. "I gave him a chance and he blew it, it's not my fault" your father reprimanded. "No you did not. I can't believe you're behaving like this" she pushed the food away. "If you are going to be this rude, leave. I'll see what you can do without my name" your father replied. She had tears pricking her eyes. "dad" she began. "Just because you're my only daughter, doesn't mean I will let you behave like a rude brat and get away with it. Go on, I want to see what you can do with out me or my help" he said. He wasn't like this, she thought. Her mother tried to calm her father down but Y/N left.

Their fight wasn't over. It had seeped into their work where they would only talk when necessary. Everyone in Williams could fell the tense environment. Logan and Alex tried to diffuse the environment but Y/N just brushed it off, until she couldn't anymore. There were rumours floating around that Logan would be replaced next year or worse mid season because of the shit her dad was blabbering about in interviews. She was sick and tired of that man, that's why she was now storming into his office. The secretary left quickly, sensing the atmosphere.

"Dad, what is wrong with you? You need media training, not your drivers" she snapped. "What is this behaviour? Is this how you talk to your father?" he raised his voice. "Mr Vowels, please behave like an adult. Please don't talk crap about your drivers while they are driving for you at least" she reprimanded. " Miss Vowels, I'll talk however I like" he snapped back. The Miss Vowels hurt, "dad" she huffed. "I'm not your dad in this office. I'm the team principal of a team that is failing and I want to bring to the top" he replied sternly. "You can do all that without disposing people off like collateral damage" she pointed. "I'll do what I think is right" he said. "If you want Carlos to sign, stop talking about him in every interview like a love sick teenager. Tell him our stats and make promises you can keep and then if he signs give your driver who had been with you since his junior career a respectful send off" she said turning around. "You don't mind Carlos joining" he asked hopeful. "It's your team. I'm just an employee" she replied dejected.

Y/N had tears streaming down her face when Logan met her. "I'm sorry, I'm such a shitty friend. I told you I'll do anything for you but I can't" she cried. "It's okay. I know you are trying your best" Logan said wrapping her in his arms. "It's hard fighting your dad" she sobbed. "I know" he patted her back. "I don't blame you for it" he smiled bitterly rubbing her back. "Maybe I shouldn't have joined Williams" she sobbed. "Hey! You helped me score points and are giving valuable input, don't say that. I'm so proud of you and how far you've come" he said looking at her and wiping her tears. His hands were cupping her cheeks, "You did what you could, now it's my turn" he smiled at her. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll continue racing even if it's not in formula one, I won't stop racing" he declared. He wiped away her tears, "Now smile, I hate it when my best friend cries" he teased.

Maybe talking to Carlos was like fraternising with the enemy, maybe that's why she felt awkward approaching him. She should have no reason to approach him anyways. There are already weird rumours floating around because of her father, she didn't want to add fuel to the fire.

Y/N ran into Carlos when she was rushing to her garage at the Spanish GP, where there were rumours floating around that he would announce the team he was joining. "Sorry" she apologised looking at the man she had run into. "It's okay" Carlos replied. "Did you sign a contract yet?" she asked abruptly. "No" Carlos replied scratching his neck. "Weigh in all you options. Whatever choice you make, let it be the best it is for you" she advised. "I thought you didn't want me at Williams" he commented. "I was being too emotional about losing my best friend. I've matured now" she smiled at him. "Logan's your best friend?" he asked, Carlos really needs to focus on more important things instead of the fact that his crush isn't crushing on another man, but he was a man of simple needs. "yeah. I mean you'll probably understand since....if something like this happened to Lando" she said shuffling her feet. "yeah" Carlos nodded. "Good luck with the decision" Y/N wished him. "You know, maybe we could go out for food" Carlos suggested. "Isn't it unethical since I'm William's team principal's daughter?" she smirked. "I haven't signed yet, so no" Carlos smiled. "Don't you want to spend time with your family" she asked. "Maybe you could join me" he winked. "What?" she asked, blushing. "I was kidding, but if you want to, I don't mind" now he was smirking. "Ah, no. Let's go out after the triple header's done" she told him. "No take backs" Carlos insisted, his tone firm as he scanned her eyes. "Ferrari's hottest driver just asked me out, I'd be a fool to say no" she teased. Carlos was now blushing, "I'll see you in Silverstone" he said, "for our date" he added tentatively. "yeah" she said biting her lower lip trying not to smile.

Y/N was counting down the days to Silverstone. The weeks didn't seem to pass. She didn't want anyone knowing either, not now anyways, what if she jinxed it?

The British GP was a big deal since it was Williams home race. Y/N was very busy with preparing everything related to work on the car. She had been working with Logan closely to get him the upgrades, which was taking longer than she hoped. Logan finishing just below points and Alex in points was great news. Everyone was ecstatic in the team and Vowels called for a team dinner which Y/N was thinking of ways to avoid. Her relation with her father was repairing it self slowly with the helpful intervention from her mother; "I will not be caught in a cross fire. This is a house not a war zone. Get along or I'm throwing you out James" her mum told her dad. That's why they had started being civil which in turn led to the atmosphere at Williams improving as well.

Y/N had lied saying that she was catching up with old friends and escaped the dinner after a lot of whining and cribbing on Alex and Logan's part for leaving them.

She got back, showered and got dressed. A white midi body con dress was calling her name. Carlos picked her up from her home, like a gentleman and held the door. "You look gorgeous" Carlos smiled checking her out. "Thank you Carlos, you look quite breath taking yourself" she breathed out.

They drove to the restaurant, talking about the most random things but racing was off the table. "If I knew how pretty you looked laughing I would've stolen you away ages ago" Carlos commented making Y/N blush. "I'm not that easy to entertain" she chided. "I know, I've been on the receiving end of some very angry stares" he laughed. "In my defence, my dad was being an ass" she spoke. "It's okay. I forgive you" he smiled.

The dinner ended rather quickly, much to the pair's dismay. "Do you want to do this again sometime?" Carlos asked hesitantly. "I would love to. Next week is off" she suggested. "Would you like to come to Monaco?" Carlos asked. "Yeah, see you then" she said kissing his cheek. "What will it take for you to kiss my lips?" he teased. "hmm..I'm a simple woman, a couple more dates maybe" she teased back. "I don't mind seeing you as often as I can but are you really going to keep me waiting?" he leaned in. "Maybe. But I could change my mind if you behave" Y/N bopped his nose and opened the door to her house biding him good night.

She was in Monaco next week, Carlos had come to pick her up from the airport and drove her around. She hadn't been in Monaco in a while. The place was warmer and the sun was shining down on them as they drove around. At night, they had dinner at a really nice Italian place. When they were walking around on the beach, "Spend the summer break with me?" Carlos asked. "I don't spend my holidays with random men" she teased. "Am I a random man?" Carlos cocked his eyebrow. "You aren't my boyfriend either" she retorted. "Well, maybe I'll ask you to be my girlfriend over the break, you'll have to find out thought" he joked. "Hmm..you drive a hard bargain Mr Sainz" she acted like she was thinking. She turned to him, "If this kiss is worth it, I might just spend the break with you" she provoked. "You're spending that break with me" he stated before he crashed his lips against her. Y/N's lips were warm and cushiony as Carlos's soft ones moved against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands found home on her waist. His nose bumping her cheek as they deepened the kiss. She pulled away, out of breath, "I guess I'm spending my break with you" she smiled at him. Carlos began to pepper his face with kisses.

The two of them had to wait for 2 more races. They were itching to be together; she couldn't go up to him and kiss his perfect face whenever she wanted. Carlos couldn't spend all his free time in the paddock with her; it was torture for the two of them.

Carlos had made up his mind, he would be signing with Williams. He saw a future and a very alluring exit clause just the way he wanted. He did mention something to Y/N about it but they didn't talk about racing during their dates.

It was the first day of the summer break, Carlos was laying in bed with Y/N in his arms; "I have an announcement to make" Carlos whispered. "At 9 in the morning" Y/N grumbled. "I'll be announcing which team I'm joining today" he spoke. "Really?" she asked, now wide awake. "yeah. I signed with Williams" he spoke slowly. It took a moment to register for Y/N and then tears prickled her eyes. She wasn't sure they were tears of joy or sorrow. "Congratulations" she croaked, kissing his lips. "I'm sorry about Logan" Carlos apologised squeezing her hips. "It's okay" she smiled weakly. "I'll make a few calls and be right back" he said getting out of bed. The video had been recorded and would be uploaded soon. Y/N was pacing around the house sending a few texts to Logan to check up on him and looking up what the fans had to say. As soon as the news went live, Y/N got a message from her dad; 'Carlos Sainz Jr is your new driver from next year' it read. She had a bitter sweet feeling reading the message.

Carlos came back, done with the initial announcement. "I'll be your engineer next year" Y/N said cupping his cheeks. "Yeah, that was one of my clauses for signing" he said cupping her cheeks too. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked looking into her eyes. "I don't know about mixing business and pleasure" she hesitated. "Just say yes" Carlos begged. "Promise me you won't get hurt" she asked. "I'll try my best" he replied. "Than, Yes" she said leaning in to kiss him, pushing up on her toes to close the distance. "I can't wait to kiss you in public" Carlos stated breaking the kiss. "Let's wait. After the way my dad has been courting you" she laughed. "Well I was trying to court his daughter" he retorted. "And you succeeded" she kissed him again. "Let's enjoy these 3 weeks of peace before we have to return" he said sweeping her off her feet and carrying her bridal style back to the room as she pressed open mouth kisses on his neck.

I've been working on this since the announcement. I had fun writing it. Hope you enjoy too.

[nadvs]

why do i see cheerleader reader having daddy issues, so when she tells rafe she’s pregnant, she’s so emotional and scared about how he’s gonna react and if he’s gonna break up with her or something

it tracks 🥺 she always expects to be disappointed by men and it’s not just because every guy she’s dated before rafe has treated her badly…

based on this fic

when she moves in with rafe after she finishes her post-grad internship, she’s still on the pill. one day, she’s complaining about the side effects of it as she’s making herself lunch and her boyfriend says, “then stop taking it.”

she looks at him from across the kitchen.

“we’d have to use protection,” she says. “every time.”

“sure. but is it so bad if…?”

she’s shocked. they’ve been together for about two years now and they’ve never talked about kids past a mention of it’d be nice to be parents some day.

“if i get pregnant?” she says.

“yeah.”

“isn’t that fast?”

“not for me. is it fast for you?”

she shrugs. maybe it’s not so crazy. they have their future set. a child would be a nice addition. they haven’t talked about marriage, but she’s in no rush. they don’t have to be married to have a baby.

“if we both want it… i guess if it happens, it happens,” she mumbles. “but our lives would change really, really drastically.”

“i know,” rafe says comfortingly.

she continues to make herself food and he stares at her, imagining her with a baby bump and that bump turning into a little human who’s a mix of him and the person he loves most.

he knows she’d be a great mom. and he’s always wanted to be a dad. he’s always wanted to undo how his own father had raised him, making his only son have to struggle for his fleeting approval.

three months later, she misses her period. she doesn’t tell rafe. she picks up a pregnancy test. she doesn’t tell him that, either. when she sees the double lines on the test, she’s standing in the middle of their bathroom, her body trembling.

and she hates that she doesn’t feel excited. she’s scared. she thought she wanted this. she hoped for a positive. but this isn’t the feeling she thought she’d have.

she goes through the motions of ordering a custom newborn basketball jersey with cameron stitched on the back, having dreamed of telling rafe that they’re expecting that way.

a couple of days later, it comes in the mail. she has actually sort of liked keeping the secret while she waited because it meant she could pretend it wasn’t real yet.

she does what she thinks she should do. she puts the tiny shirt in a bag, sets up her phone to record, and calls him over to tell him something came for him. this is what a woman who’s excited to tell him would do, she tells herself.

at first, when rafe opens the bag, he doesn’t say anything. his jaw goes slack, he blinks a bunch of times, and then he pulls her in for a tight hug.

she’s already shaking, tears in her eyes, when she hears him sniffle. he pulls back. his hands are firm on her cheeks, gazing at her through glossy blue eyes.

“you’re happy?” she whispers.

“yeah,” he responds, saying it like it’s obvious. “we wanted this, right?”

rafe stills for a moment when he sees just how anguished she looks. she doesn’t seem happy at all.

“right?” he repeats.

“yeah,” she says, nodding and looking down. “i don’t know. it’s weird. maybe it’s the hormones already.”

“how long have you known? do you feel okay?”

“just a couple days,” she says. “i’m tired. a little nauseous. but he hasn’t made me throw up yet.”

“he?”

she meets her boyfriend’s eyes.

“i know it’s too soon to tell,” she says, “but i really hope it’s a boy. you’ll feel more connected to a boy.”

he can tell by the way she’s stuttering and crying that something’s wrong.

“baby,” he mumbles. “i’ll feel connected no matter what. it’s my kid.”

she shudders, nodding through her sobs.

“what’s up?” rafe says softly. “do you… are you regretting it?”

“no,” she replies, “but are you sure you want this?”

“yes. we talked about it,” he reminds her. “it’s not like this was an accident.”

“yeah,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap again.

rafe stares at her, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. she’s acting like this was unexpected. like she’s wishing they never started trying.

“what is it?” he says. “if you don’t want this, then just tell me.”

she curls up, slouching as she dips her head into her hands, the tears coming harder now.

“if it gets hard…” she whimpers, her voice muffled. “you can’t leave me to do it on my own. you can’t.”

he’s floored. they haven’t mentioned anything about the possibility of things not working out with them in ages. and back when they did, it was almost always rafe needing reassurance that she wasn’t planning on leaving him.

“i would never do that,” he says. “look at me.” his fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands down from her face.

“where’s this coming from?” rafe mumbles. “did i do something?”

he thinks back to the past few days, trying to remember if he said something even in passing that would make her worry about him abandoning his girl and their baby.

the look in his eyes almost looks like betrayal. like he can’t believe she’s saying this.

she swallows hard, coming to terms with what’s been swimming in her head for days now. her father was absent. the only example she had of a dad was one who never really acted like he wanted a kid at all.

“i don’t know what it looks like,” she begins, “when a man actually wants to be a dad. maybe you’re excited now, but what if when it gets hard? when he’s crying or sick or keeping us awake?”

“we’ll deal with it,” he says. he pushes past his own ache to try to understand her.

his cups her hands in his, searching her face with concerned eyes. he remembers her opening up to him long ago about how she always wondered if her dad would have loved her more if she was a son instead of a daughter.

“when he or she is giving us hell, we’ll deal with it,” he says. “i love them already. there’s nothing that’ll change that.”

he puts a hand on her stomach, rubbing gently. she finally cracks a smile, softly laughing. his chest loses its tightness when he sees her look happy for the first time since he got home.

“i was reading that it’s the size of a pomegranate seed right now,” she says.

he smiles in awe, kissing her wet cheek.

“what’s next?” he asks. “what appointments do we make? what should you be eating?”

she laughs again. rafe has always been so intense, so focused on the next step.

“let me catch my breath first,” she teases. she looks over, just now remembering she filmed all this.

“my bad, baby,” he laughs. “breathe. this’ll be good, alright?”

“alright,” she says. and she believes it.

[coco-loco-nut]

Actress

Pairing: Logan x Reader

Summary: A former F2 driver gets the chance to star on the big screen.

A/n: I am so sorry this took so long. August was the busiest month of my internship and 60 hour work weeks are tough, plus an hour commute 🥲

masterlist requests open

———————

Filming in the Formula One paddock was something else. Sure, you have been here before, but this was something different. You were fulfilling your childhood dream of being a Formula One driver, kinda.

“We will start filming in 15,” your producer says at the end of their tangent. The race suit hangs at your hips as you stand, watching other drivers go by.

“Why does she look familiar?” Lando asks Oscar, both ready to collapse in their drivers rooms after a long qualifying session.

“She drove in Formula Two with Trident a few years ago,” Oscar quietly observes you, mentally debating whether it would be weird to approach you.

“She seems to be doing well for herself,” Lando hums, feeling ready to take a nap. Oscar steps away, deciding it’s more awkward to say nothing than to at least say hello.

“Hi, y/n, right? I’m Oscar, we used to race against each in F2,” Oscar extends his hand, unsure if you remember him. A bit silly, seeing as how you hung out a good amount.

“Of course, I remember. Too many adventures to forget. I considered copying your tweet to announce my contract wasn’t getting extended,” you smile, showing you aren’t upset.

“I’m sorry, you were a good driver,” Oscar offers, but you shake your head. You won a couple races in F2, but that was a lot of luck.

“I hit my ceiling, and there wasn’t going to be a seat waiting for me since I wasn’t in an F1 driver academy. I still drive occasionally in Indycar to keep my license,” you push down the little bit of longing, watching drivers walk through the paddock.

“How did you get into acting?” Oscar asks, genuinely curious at how you got involved in the movie.

“It was a bit of a wild experience. I applied to stunt drive for the film, but they liked my look and I guess I act well enough. So I ended up with one of the leads, a racing prodigy. Some tips on being one would be greatly appreciated,” Oscar’s cheeks flame when you call him a prodigy. He’s too humble for that.

“I wouldn’t say that. You know racing better than most, if not all, the people working on the movie, so I know you will be okay,” Oscar reassures you.

“Y/n, come to the garage. We film in ten,” an assistant comes to get you. You hesitate, not quite wanting to end your conversation.

“I’ll walk with you?” Oscar suggests, knowing you must feel a little out of place despite looking like you are meant to be here.

“Thanks. I can’t tell you the last time I was in a Formula One garage,” you say, letting out a sigh of relief. You would normally insist that he goes to his post-race meetings, but the accompaniment is needed.

“Anything for an old friend and rival,” Oscar jokes causing you both to chuckle, easing what’s left of the awkward tension.

“Is Logan still your bestie? I know you both were close,” you ask, your helmet feeling heavy in your hand.

“We are still close. I’m sure he’d love to see you again. He used to have a crush on you,” Oscar reveals as you get close to the garage the production team set up, you think it might actually be functional too.

“Aww, maybe we should get dinner sometime. Are you still with Lily?” you ask, feeling pre-race jitters even though you are only doing a few laps. There needs good film for both you and Pitt, so you are taking the track at different Grand Prix races this year.

“Yeah, it’s going well. Text me when you have a free weekend, I’ll get McLaren to invite you as a guest,” Oscar smiles, observing you. “You’ve been doing this all your life, it’s just you, the car, and the track,” he reminds you, sensing the nerves.

“Thanks, Oscar. It was nice to see a familiar face,” you say before heading into the garage. You thought it would be a standard F2 car, but you were wrong, they modified it to look like an F1 car.

You inspect your car, mentally noting what they changed and how it might affect your drive. After a quick conversation with Mercedes engineers, you get into the car, testing your radio and doing some final checks. Once the FIA clears you, you exit into pit lane, careful not to speed.

You keep your breathing steady, focusing on the feel of the car. You’ve raced at Silverstone before, this is no different. You did your track walk, you’ve sim raced, you warmed up and have kept up with your race training. After a lap to warm up your tires, you drive like you are racing. Each turn feels natural, your muscle memory kicking in and the car responding nicely. Oscar was right, you’ve been driving all your life, it’s just you and the car. You don’t waste the opportunity, pushing the car to its limits, driving on the edge. You prove why you belonged in F2. Indycar is great, but it isn’t the same.

“Two more laps then bring it in,” you hear over the radio, and you can’t help but wish you could drive more. There will be other filming opportunities, but you won’t lie and say that you didn’t miss racing regularly.

When you bring the car in, you feel like you are on cloud nine.

“It drives great, I hope those laps were good enough,” you smile, pulling off your helmet and balaclava.

“Spectacular drive, I knew having you in the car was a good choice,” Lewis says, appearing beside you. He’s working as a consultant on the movie, but you haven’t actually met him yet.

“Sir Hamilton, wow, I, um, thank you so much. It means a lot coming from you,” you stumble over your words, almost dropping your helmet.

“You raced in F2, without the support of an academy, and won a couple races. You are a good driver,” Lewis further compliments you. If you were to die right now, you would have no objections.

“I am literally at a loss for words, you have no idea how much that means coming from you. You inspired me to keep racing,” you are torn between crying and melting into the ground out of happiness.

“I look forward to watching your other drives, you have talent. It’s disappointing that you didn’t get another contract,” Lewis says a little offhandedly before heading back to Mercedes.

“We are going to get shots of you in the garage,” you are informed, before being requested to go back to hair and makeup.

“This is what it looks like to be a driver. We all aren’t Carlos, we don’t look flawless right after a race,” you joke as you push back again the request, pulling your balaclava back on.

You spend the next hour filming, and a part of you misses when you would be meeting with your team instead after driving laps. As you wrap up and change into something that isn’t your racing suit, aka sweat pants and an old team hoodie, you cannot wait to get back to the hotel.

“Y/n!” you quickly recognize the American accent. Logan jogs to catch up with you.

“Hey, Logan. Sorry about qualifying, tough luck,” you smile sympathetically as he shrugs.

“Can’t do much when the car is slow. Congrats on the role, I’m glad you were able to find footing after not getting resigned,” he says, clearly aware of his uncertain future.

“There is still tomorrow,” you offer, hoping to reassure him a little.

“It was nice to see you drive again, you did some great laps. Was that an F1 car?” Logan asks, changing the topic.

“Modified F2 car. It was great, the car felt amazing,” you smile as Logan walks beside you. A small part of you hopes that a team will watch your drive and sign you.

“Well maybe one day you will get to drive one for real. After the race tomorrow we should go out for drinks,” Logan says, quickly adding on “you, me, and Oscar,” to the end.

“Sounds great, I missed you guys,” your car is parked in the opposite direction of Logan’s. You start walking away and Logan watches as you approach your car. As he is about to turn away, you turn back towards him. “Maybe we could grab drinks without Oscar sometime?” you yell, hoping you aren’t shooting the wrong shot and Oscar was right.

“I’d like that,” Logan calls back, his cheeks flushed. With a smile you turn back to your car, looking forward to the date.

You arrive to the Paddock early the next day, wanting to catch the F2 race. Trident invited you go visit, and you can’t deny you wanted to take the opportunity to network. It is also nice to catch up with your former team.

“Great drive, yesterday. You posted some pretty good times,” Maurizio compliments. You haven’t spoken much to your former team principal since you left F2.

“Thank you, it was nice to be behind the wheel again,” you take it gracefully, knowing there’s a fine line between demonstrating skill and boasting.

“Perhaps we can discuss a contract sometime,” he leaves you with those parting words and you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement. You make sure to take your exit as soon as the race ends, not wanting to make anything awkward.

Earlier you received a text from someone at Mercedes telling you how to pick your paddock and hospitality pass. Lewis apparently asked them to invite you to watch from the Mercedes hospitality after your drive yesterday. So now you are on the hunt to find the hospitality.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you notice someone start walking beside you.

“Hey, Logan,” you don’t know why, but you can feel the heat of a blush creeping over your fac. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for?” You question, an attempt to distract him.

“I have time before the driver’s parade and I saw you out here,” Logan throws his arm around your shoulder.

“Lucky me, then. I was just on my way to Mercedes, want to show me where I’m going?” you smoothly ask, feeling your stomach flip in anticipation.

“That I can do,” he smiles down at you, happy to show you around. You make small talk as he points things out on your walk, and you don’t know any better so he takes you the long way.

“Hey, you are the girl in that F1 movie, the prodigy,” you instantly recognize Daniel Ricciardo. Logan is a little confused, not having many run-in’s with the VCARB driver, but he rolls with it.

“Yeah,” you nod, blushing from embarrassment. These guys are the best in the world and you are just imitating them.

“We drove in F2 together,” Logan interjects, causing Daniel to look at the two of you in surprise.

“Ah, sick! That’s so cool. Good to know there is a real driver in it. I gotta go but it was nice meeting you!” With that, the Honey Badger left, wearing his iconic smile.

“He is an interesting guy,” you can’t help but smile in amusement as you reflect on the interaction.

“You got that right. Have you met Alex and Lily? I’ll have to invite you to a race soon, give you a reason to hang around,” Logan says, turning up his flirting. He never got over his crush for you.

“I haven’t, and I hate to break the news, but Oscar called dibs on inviting me to the next race. Maybe you two can share custody,” you joke as you pass McLaren, only making it funnier.

The drop off at Mercedes was a bit rushed. Turns out, Logan lied about having plenty of time before the Driver’s Parade, but in his defense, he didn’t really look at a clock before stopping you. That was also how you met George Russell.

Unfortunately for Oscar and Logan, you had to cancel on post-race drinks. You got called back to the studio for an early shoot, meaning you left after the race and caught the next plane back to America.

The bright side is that there wasn’t a race the next week, so Logan took advantage and caught a flight to surprise you. He may be a guy, but he was able to pick up on the flirting the both of you were doing. Logan arrived at your hotel soon after you were done filming for the day, and knocked on the door. The only reason he knew your hotel room number is because he said he was going to doordash you food after the long few days.

“Thanks for bringing it to my room, here’s an extra-“ you stop mid sentence when you realize it isn’t a dasher at your hotel room door.

“I hope McDonald’s is okay? I’ve been craving fries,” he smiles, amused by your stunned reaction.

“I don’t know whether I want to cry or hug you,” you open the door wider so he can enter the room.

“This isn’t how I pictured our first date,” you comment after a few minutes of eating food that you probably shouldn’t be and watching comfort movies. Logan almost chokes on his fry.

“I’ll make it up to you then, take you out on a proper date,” he vows.

“I like this, though. Our lives are so crazy anyway,” you smile to yourself as he wraps an arm around you, letting you get closer to him. The both of you enjoy small talk throughout the movie, your head ending up on his shoulder, fighting off the sleep that threatens to creep in.

Logan hears your soft snores as the movie ends and quietly watches you. He ponders just falling asleep too, claiming you both dozed off during the movie, but it feels too soon. So, he carefully wakes you up so it seems like you didn’t doze off.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” you comment, unsure if you fell asleep or not.

“I didn’t either. I should go, early flight and all that,” Logan grimaces, not ready to leave.

“Do you have a hotel room? You can stay here if needed,” you offer.

“No, no, it’s okay. I got a room for the night. I wouldn’t want to impose,”

“Well, I had a great time. I look forward to our next,” you smile, face close to Logan’s. He strongly debates kissing you, but he doesn’t want to screw this up, so he slowly pulls away.

“I do too. Sleep well,” with a boyish smile, he quietly exits. You lay back in the bed with a content sigh.

You and Logan dated quietly, not wanting to make a big deal out of things. The fans loved it when you hung out with him, Oscar, and some other drivers from your F2 days. They especially loved it when Trident announced you would be rejoining the team next season, right after filming finishes.

The best part about driving F2 was that you could skip a lot of the press tour stuff, but you did try. Somehow, you got Logan to agree to attend the London premiere with you. It was a big deal, all of the grid is expected to attend.

He is the first out of the car once you reach the red carpet, quickly making his way to your door so he can assist you out.

“Are you ready?” he asks with a slightly nervous smile. It’s your first public outing as a couple, despite your soft launching.

“With you? Always,” you confidently take the red carpet, answering questions and posing for cameras. At some point, Oscar and Lily join you both, happy to take group pictures.

“There is our star,” Oscar says when they arrive.

“Thank you for being here! I’m excited for everyone to see it,” you smile, a little on edge around so many Formula One legends. You swear you even saw Guenther Steiner walk past you.

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” George says once you make it inside where everyone is mingling.

“I convinced her somehow,” Logan smiles at you, clearly enamored.

“Well, you two look great together. Let’s get coffee sometime,” George says before walking away. Logan just signed with Mercedes, and you were so proud. He tried to play it down, but you made sure to celebrate it.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asks, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“A little nervous, it’s a great movie, but I’m nervous. There’s been some recent negativity because I’m a driver and starred in the movie. Something to do with pushing the female driver agenda,” you shift your weight back and forth. Logan pulls you close to him, providing a support as you take the moment to relax before starting your rounds again.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n, let me introduce you to some friends of mine,” Brad Pitt says as you walk past him with Logan. You stay for a minute before Logan provides an exit plan.

“I think we should head to our seats, don’t want to miss the movie,” he says, smoothly allowing you to leave and go into the theater. You are seated beside Lewis, who has mentored and coached you this season.

Before you know it, the movie is starting. The scene pans down from the sunset to your car flying on the track. As you turn the corner, an engineer is shown analyzing your data with a headset on. Silently, other motion to screens, nodding along with a comment. All you can hear is the roar of the engine on track as the engineer activates his radio.

“Box box,”

[syzthefrizz]

Tips for writing dream sequences (from someone who has really vivid, weird dreams on a frequent basis)

My biggest pet peeve with fictional dream sequences is that they make too much sense!! They're too relevant! There's not enough random crazy stuff! That's not always unrealistic per se, but you are missing out on some of the fun ways you can reveal information about your character's mindset, fears, struggles, and future.

Most of my dreams have a goal or objective driving the plot, and it's usually urgent. Ex. "escape the huge storm on the horizon", "find a place to sleep for the night in an unfamiliar town", "find a bathroom". This is especially true of stress dreams.

Everything going on in the dream makes perfect sense to you during the dream. It doesn't feel like reality per se, but you think it is. You're living in a house full of vampires that could eat you at any moment? Seems legit.

Emotions and situations from the dreamer's life can/will find their way into dreams, with varying levels of subtlety. The dream could be about the stressful event itself, or it could be some sort of exaggerated metaphor. Ex. I was worried about whether I was a competent CS major while I was still trying to find a summer job/internship, and I was worried about what my professors must think of me. Such a good student on paper, still without summer plans. I dreamed that I ran into my professors all having lunch together at a restaurant (during a dream with a completely different storyline), and I was wearing my pajamas. They judged me.

Certain things are very hard to do in dreams. This could vary from person to person. For me, it's always driving (the brakes never work right), flying (I can't stay off the ground for very long), and running (it's like trying to run through waist-deep water).

People with PTSD may dream about the traumatic event happening differently than it actually happened. (Take this one with a grain of salt - I don't suffer from PTSD, I just research it sometimes so my blorbos can suffer accurately).

You can have a string of loosely connected or disconnected dream sequences back to back, each with an entirely different plot, setting, etc.

People can have reoccurring themes or plotlines in their dreams, which are often connected to their lives/psyche somehow. I frequently dream about running away from tornadoes and being in situations where there's some catastrophe coming but I'm the only one who understands that there's a problem and nobody will listen to me.

It's common for me to have a dream setting that I KNOW is someplace I'm familiar with, but it doesn't actually look like that place at all. Ex. "I dreamed that we were at my house, but it didn't look like my house..."

Dreams can end in cliffhangers. Sometimes I wake up right before I'm about to eat something delicious.

Sometimes people have dreams about doing things that they would never, ever do in real life, and they wake up feeling disgusted. This is Not a manifestation of their secret desires (*glares at Freud*).

Images are the most memorable parts of dreams. I forget the specific plot points, but I can still picture dozens of liminal spaces my brain has created, even years after I dreamed about it.

Dreams will fade from memory very quickly unless the dream had a strong impression on you, you write details about it down or you tell someone about it before you forget.

If you realize you're dreaming during your dream, sometimes you can control the dream going forward. This is called lucid dreaming. I've done it accidentally a couple times, and it's really hard to "hold on" to the dream and control it. I usually wake up soon after starting. With practice, you can get better at it.

Sometimes a normal/good dream can turn into a nightmare, and vice versa. Most of my dreams aren't really good or bad, they're something in between.

Your subconscious brain is CRAZY intuitive. We can argue over the existence of prophetic dreams (I've heard so many crazy stories), but at the end of the day, your subconscious brain knows things that you don't consciously know. If your character is in love with someone, their subconscious brain will know even if the character doesn't. Relationship problems? Deepest darkest fears and insecurities? Your brain knows. A dream predicted the downfall of my first relationship eight months before it happened, down to the reason why we failed. You can absolutely foreshadow this way. A character might subconsciously know what the consequences of their or other people's actions will be, understand things about the situation they're in, know things about the people they're interacting with, and more, despite their conscious realizations.

There are plenty of ways to make a dream sequence relevant to your story, but don't forget to add in some fun, random details. Character A is secretly in love with Character B? Have Character A dream about Character B confessing feelings to them while in a Vine Nostalgia themed restaurant over a plate of mac-n-cheese. The details are the fun part, and you can get as weird as you want. I once ran into my aunt in a dream, and she was wearing a backpack with a bunch of (fake?) hands sticking out of it, making a fan that rose above her back behind her head like some sort of peacock feather costume piece. I was so freaked out that I woke up. I dare you to get weirder than that.

Not everyone's brain works the same way. I have vivid, random, detailed, memorable dreams on a frequent basis. When I describe them to people they often ask "what were you on?". My roommate only remembers her dreams when they're nightmares. I have some friends who say they don't dream. Other friends have really boring, mundane dreams about their normal lives. Some people have weird dreams but only once in a blue moon. It's a good idea to decide off the bat what kinds of dreams your character has, and how often they remember them.

That's it for now, but I might make a part two if I think of more things to add. Feel free to reblog with your own personal dream expertise!

[slayfics]

You get jealous when Katsuki talks about Burnin.

600 words

Internships started back up and they were even more challenging than last time. The pro heroes had a good idea of what your classes could handle now, so the training was even more intense.

After the past days of non-stop hero work, your body collapsed into bed. You didn't think your bed had ever felt so comfortable.

You wondered if your other classmates' internships were as strenuous. Katsuki's at least had to be, after all, he was interning at Endeavor's.

You reached for your phone to send him a text.

[You] Hey, how is your internship going? [Katsuki] Awful. I'm losing my goddamn mind here. [You] Oh shit- what's going on?

Your phone rang as a call from Katsuki came through. Eagerly you answered.

"Hey," you greeted him.

"Fucking hate texting," he stated.

"I know," you chuckled. "So, what happened?" you asked.

"Had dinner at Endeavor's house the other day," he mumbled into the phone.

"What!? How was that?!" You asked.

"Fucking weird- they got a lot of family drama. It was stupid to bring me and Deku into it. Fucking rude not to keep your shit together when ya got guests. HA! And I thought my family had problems," he said.

"That bad, hu? Come on tell me the details, what were they fighting about?" You pleaded.

"Tch- you're nosey as hell ya know that? What the hell do you care anyway?" He asked.

"Endeavor is the number one hero now! It's- interesting to hear that his family life is trash when his career is so good," you explained.

"Yeah- sounds like that's what the problem is. He was an absent father I guess... I don't know- it's not my damn business and I don't care about that crap. I'm here to get stronger not fucking be on a drama show," Katsuki spoke.

"He taught you anything good yet?" You asked.

Katsuki grunted into the phone, "Nah- we've been having to try and beat him to the scene of a villain. But- he's so goddamn fast it pisses me off- and then that damn sidekick of his gets on my fucking nerves."

"What's he like?" You asked wanting to hear more about Endeavor's sidekick.

"She," Katsuki corrected you. "Fucking annoying. She's a strong hero I guess but she's too damn loud all the time."

"Oh.... what does she look like?" You asked, trying to keep the growing insecurity out of your voice.

"Hah? Why? What the hell does that matter?" Katsuki asked confused by your question.

"I'm just curious," you lied.

"It's Burnin' you've probably seen her in the news before, she's a pretty famous sidekick... Wait- are you jealous or something?" Katsuki asked, picking up on the tone in your voice.

"What!? No!" You exclaimed into the phone, but it was too late. Katsuki had picked up on your insecurity.

"I already told ya she's damn annoying, didn't I?" Katsuki said, his way of saying you were dumb for feeling insecure about the sidekick.

"Yeah, but you say that about everyone," you pointed out.

"That's not true," Katsuki challenged you. "I... don't say that about your ass," he mumbled voice lower than before.

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you shifted in bed. "I miss you," you said, your voice equally as low.

"Tch- don't press your luck... You ain't getting that sappy shit out of me," he grumbled voice rough again. "It's getting late, we should rest."

"Yeah," you agreed hesitantly. He was right you both had to be up early tomorrow to be back at internships, but you didn't want to hang up.

"I'll talk to ya later," he said and paused for a moment before continuing. "I... guess I miss you too or whatever. Good night." He concluded and hung up before you could make any remarks on his sentimental words.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3

[sadistic-kiss]

Nanami Knows Best

What's Best

Nanami is tired of your poor choice of men so he takes matters into his own hands. 

TAGS: Dubious Consent, Knife Play, Degrading, Dacryphilia, Bondage, Praise

Genre: Some Angst, Dark Romance, Possessive, Obssessive 

Yandere/Slasher Nanami x Reader

****************************************************

Your giggles tickle Nanami’s ears like little bell chimes. He always enjoyed it when you laughed or smiled. It made him feel warm. However, he wasn't feeling that sweet delight that squeezed his heart… not right now. Right now he was feeling irritated. Pissed. All because he wasn't the cause of such a beautiful laugh, no it was the mouth breather who had his arm slung around your shoulder. 

“Guys this is Mahito.” You introduced the bluette to the group with an excited chirp.

"Sup!"

Jerk number five. 

“Nice to meet you Mahito~.” Gojo shook the man’s hand as he greeted each person.

“So you're the guy I've been hearing so much about?” Shoko winked.

“I hope all good things.” Mahito looked toward you with a smirk. 

“Of course!” You shimmy into him playfully. “You're my perfect man~.”

Your newest boyfriend. 

After rounding the table the man reached his weird stitched hand toward him. Where did you find this one out of the mental hospital? He disregarded his hand giving him a nod instead. “Nanami.” 

“Oo~ Nanami is a bit weird with germs.” you whispered quickly trying to ease the tension between them. He wasn't weird with germs but he allowed you to think that so he didn't have to physically interact with waste. 

“No worries! Germaphobe Kento huh?” 

“Nanami.”he corrected.

“I heard so much about you!” the drunk disrespectful bastard continued, “Heard you were real smart and all, a true brainy guy. Like the big-headed kid from the cartoons uuuuh...” he began to snap his fingers, “John- Josh-”

”Jimmy Neutron!” you laughed as the two of you busted up in a cackle. 

“Yeaaah! Jimmy Neutron!”

Nanami let out a short snort as he sipped his drink. The table giggled in drunken fun. After that little joke, he allowed everyone else to talk. Mahito would pick on him but he never bit back. Never took the obvious bait. Nanami was quiet, always had been. You learn more about someone by watching them closely. People were like open books, you just needed to know how to read them. 

Nanami likes to observe, and as he scrutinized your new boy toy he wanted to roll his eyes. He truly wasn't impressed with this one. The rest of the table seemed fine with him but that's because they were too oblivious to see how textbook this whole thing was. It always started like… this. The cute little honeymoon phase where you introduce the new guy to your friends and they gush and get excited for you. Where you ignore all the obvious red flags and let them slap you in the face. 

It was pitiful honestly. 

The guy could say anything and you'd give him whatever. Money, time, ass, your damn dignity. Just like the rest of them. You let these deadbeats in and they take and take from you until you have nothing more to give and when they leave you broken and crying you run to Shoko. Last time, Shoko was away so you had called him. 

You cried and cried and vowed to never do this to yourself again- he truly believed you yet look at you now. You silly... silly girl. You always do this don't you? It's like you can't help it. You were a smart woman. No debt, great credit score, graduated college early, paid for all your things, and shine in your career. You worked really hard to get to where you were. Summer classes, extra credit, internships, volunteering, you name it. You built yourself up and now you were letting homeless idiots break you down. You were booksmart but you were not street smart. 

Unfortunately, you followed the very trope of- good girl dates bad guy. You think you can change them huh? Give them a place to crash when the go on a drug binge and as they steal your money and lie to you you just nod and smile thinking you see the good in them. When were you going to grow out of it? Aren't you too old for this? Whatever happened to 'fool me once shame on you fool me twice shame on me? What the hell is fool me five times? 

Clearly, you were sick in the head to be going down this same path again for the fifth time. 

More sick than he was, and that was really saying something. He wiped the earth with scum bags like your shitty boyfriends. He even enjoyed doing it. However, he was an honest man to himself and his disturbing hobbies.

He enjoyed killing but it was best when done to someone that he felt was a waste of oxygen. 

He wasn't a sociopath- he was a psychopath. There was a difference. He had his little morals. He didn't like killing those who didn't deserve it. Only people who thought they could shit on the world with no consequences. Cocky bastards… much like all the men you seem to be a magnet for.

So, as he watches you with yet another dirtbag, he begins to wonder how delightful it would be to cut this one's life short. Just like he did with all your other poor choices. You just didn't get it. Couldn't see what they truly were. You always joked about your third eye but you were blind to these things that were lesser than men. They didn't deserve you, but you keep picking them up.

Was it your daddy issues? Mommy issues? Both?

Nanami truly thought the time he spent with you crying after your last breakup would have sparked something within you. He was a model man. Everything opposite of the strays you take in off the street. If anything you should have seen how perfect he was for you. How much better he could treat you. Jealous? He wouldn't quite say that. He was more...how should he say...disappointed. He would have felt much better if you came into this bar with a man who was more his status or at least someone who had a higher IQ than a fifth grader.

"ALRIGHT! LET'S GET THIS TRIVIA GAME STARTED!" 

Speaking of iQ, he can't wait to see how many questions this one gets wrong. The last one was 8/10 for questions wrong- not right. He got only two answers. Will this one be a knockout? 

The announcer yelled into the mic making the crowd cheer and holler as they raised their glass into the air excited to start the game. 

Mahito elbowed him in the side, "Win this one for us aye Jimmy Neutron."

Nanami's lip twitched as he gave him a half smile. At that moment your boyfriend sealed his fate. Hammering the last nail into his coffin. Who was he kidding, he nailed it in when he decided to date you.

~

You swayed and giggled as Mahito helped you into your house. 

"Careful babe." He caught you before you could slip and eat your stone steps.

"Sorry sorry~ I had one too many margaritas!" You hold on to him as you kick your stilettos off your feet. You were already home so you didn't mind going barefoot the rest of the way. 

Climbing up your stairs you dug into your purse to grab your keys with jingly accessories upon them. You open the door and lean against it letting your guest in. You smiled at him while he turned the lamp on. You had such a fun night and you felt something was so different about this one. Your friends even liked him. Though they were pissed he got some questions wrong- easy ones-matter of fact you don't think he answered anything correctly- despite that! You still felt it was a good night. Closing the door behind you, you stalk over to him and throw your arms around his neck.

"Ooo~I know that look, did I do good tonight?"

You smiled with a flirtatious flutter of your lashes, "Yes~ Yes you did." You reach on your tiptoes as you kiss him, nearly making him tip over the couch.

Mahito hummed wrapping his arms around your hips, about to take this to the next level but his phone began to ring. He pulled back from you with a peck, "Ah~" He hissed looking at his phone, "Give me a minute work is calling." 

You pout giving him puppy eyes, "This late at night? Can't you let it ring?" You reach for him again but he untangles your arms from around him with a light chuckle. 

"I'm always on call, you know how business is. Go wait for me." He smacked your ass while walking toward the door.

"Don't take long!" You giggle running to your room to put something sexy on.

Mahito stepped out onto your porch, answering the phone. "Hey baby?"

"When are you coming over~"

"I can't tonight, I gotta..." He looked around while licking his lip, "Do a late-night delivery."

Nanami was listening as he hid in the dark, your new boyfriend spoke to what he had deduced was another girl... or boy. Whatever the case it was clear he was cheating on you and then lying to both of you. Well, the guy just made this a whole lot easier. Guess that was the one perk of you dating trash, it was easy to get rid of.

Once the call came to an end Nanami made his move. Mahito opened the door when he caught the man around his neck with his knife and then dragged him in with a hand clasped over his lips. Nanami shut the door with his back, leaning against it while he held the dying gurgling man. His eyes were wide as they looked upon him in shock. 

"She deserves better than you." Nanami made sure to send the man to the afterlife with his stone-cold eyes as the last thing he saw. He watched an arrangement of emotions flicker across before Mahito went still. He wished he could have basked in his taunting screams like the others but this was new. He has never done… this. In your house. About to confront you. He thought it was about time you truly opened your third eye and saw reality. 

Nanami dragged the man with him as he walked toward your room, pausing in the hallway mirror. He adjusted his bloody jacket and combed his blonde hair back with his fingers, flashing his teeth to make sure nothing was in them. When he was satisfied he knocked on your door with two sharp taps.

"Come in~" You called from inside.

He twisted the knob and pushed it, allowing the door to swing open the rest of the way.

You had a smile on your face, sitting in bed wearing a see-through baby doll gown. When you realized it was him and not the garbage man, your expression morphed into horror.

"N-Nanami!" You scurried up on your knees with your mouth wide open. Eyes darting to the body that he was pulling into your room. He plopped down on your bed with a tired sigh, flicking out his handkerchief as if he had just gotten off of work. 

You open your lips wide about to scream but he grabs your calf while holding the knife to his lips, "Don't. I've already had a long night with your one-brain cell boyfriend." He let go of you before he snorted to himself, "Sorry, your ex." Using his white handkerchief he began to wipe his bloody knife with smooth delicacy.

"Why-why Nanami?!"

"He was trash sweetheart. All of them were."

"A-all? Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Every single one you pick." He looked at you like a disappointed father. "I'm about sick of it. It’s obvious you're too stupid to realize it. Letting these leeches into your life. At some point, you'd think you were enjoying it! How about that? Do you enjoy being treated like crap? Enjoy letting pigs treat your home like a sty they can smoke their crack pipe at?"

Your lip trembled as you watched him clean his knife, "A-are you going to k-kill me?"

Nanami shook his head in disbelief as he scratched some blood off the steel, did you not listen to a word he just said? Honestly, sometimes you can be so dense. You’re lucky you’re cute. "No, I'm not going to kill you sweetheart." He looked up at you just in time to see your eyes land on your phone that was plugged into the charger. He saw the way you nervously gulped before looking at him. 

He raised a blonde brow at you. Were you really about to-

You dashed for your phone but he was quicker. He lunged forward and slapped the device across the room but you took that moment to pick up your lamp and toss it at him. He growled, blocking it with his arm, the glass cutting him. You released a scream while running. You barely jumped over the lump of flesh on the ground before he caught you by your hair and yanked you back into the room. 

“Ah! HELP HELP ME!”

"Enough!" He yelled at you as he wrestled you onto your bed.

You kicked and screamed as he quickly got you under control. He shoved his handkerchief into your mouth and grabbed your hands together with one hand. Swiftly he unbuckled his pants with one hand and yanked it out of the loop to tie around your wrist and the bedpost. He yanked on it making sure it was tight, and to be double sure you weren't getting out he jiggled your arm, searching for any open space. He then sat on the side of your bed with a release of air. Glancing at his forearm he picked out pieces of your lamp from his skin and tossed it to the floor. 

“Tch- ". He pulled out the last piece looking at you. 

Your sniffling and choked sobs are what caught his attention. He couldn't help how absolutely beautiful you looked even with precious tears streaming down your cheeks. He cooed as he took out the bloody handkerchief, from your mouth. "What's wrong sweetheart? Why are you crying?"

"Are you..." You gawked at him before giving him an angry stern look. "Y-You killed Mahito!"

Nanami scoffed leaning over the bed so he could pick up Mahito's phone. "Ah, your boyfriend?" He typed in the easy password that he had seen the leech put in. 6969. Fucking childish. He then went to his text message to girlfriend number two and flipped it over to show you. "What do you see?"

You gasped at the text messages, and nude pictures being sent between the two. Mahito said dirty things about the girl as she reciprocated the flirting. You snapped your head away too distraught to see such a thing. 

The blonde grabbed your cheeks, turning your head so you could look at the evidence. "What do you see?" He asked again more sternly. 

You sniffed, "I see I see!"

"What! Do you see?"

"I SEE THE NUDE PICTURES!" You cried with more hot tears bubbling in your orbs.

"What's the date?"

"T-Today! It's- it's today...." You began to cry as Nanami moved the phone from your face. Your boyfriend is dead, the guy you saw as a friend killed him, and now you found out you were being cheated on- was there anything else to bury you in? This was all too much! You were sobbing now, choking on your saliva and trying to sniffle so you could breathe, but it was so hard to breathe. 

Nanami pet your cheek with the back of his knuckles. "There you go... good girl let it all out...it's okay." 

"I-I'm sorry N-Nanami you are r-right- why does this happen to me..." You cried through your words hoping to pull on sympathy strings.

Nanami kissed you on your forehead as he spoke more to himself than anything. "You just can't help yourself sweetheart it's not your fault..." He moved to kiss your wet cheek. "I'll make sure it never happens again."

His words made your eyes widen along with his lips connecting with your own. 

"HM!" You tensed up shutting your eyes tight, your hands jerked to push him away but his belt didn't let up. What the hell does he think he's doing!? His lips slotted into yours as he shifted on top of you. You felt his tongue touch you and, you let it slip in your mouth. He moaned as he licked your tongue but then you clamped your teeth making him rear back in shock.

"Mm..."He touched his bloodied tongue. Surprised to see the red liquid on his fingers. "You bit me." He stated matter of factly. 

"Don't touch me!" You spat his blood at him. "You're a murderer! 

He was calm and then he wasn't. He grabbed your face pressing his fingers into your cheeks as he shook your head back and forth. "I know what I am darling but do you know what you are?"

You did your best to glare at him as you mewled in discomfort, your cheeks being pressed into your eyes. You weren't even able to answer his question, but he did.

"You're a dirty little whore that can't go one single day without being fucked."

You gasp in shock.

"Oh don't do that. You get dumped by one man you're looking for the next to warm your bed. How long did you know this one? Less than a month? How long did it take you before you were throwing on this slutty outfit that you wear for every man?" He flicked the fabric for emphasis.

You felt your chest squeeze in pain as your resolve began to decay, you didn't expect him to be so mean- hell you didn't expect any of this from kind sweet Nanami Kento! It was like a whole new person was above you. Nanami rolled his eyes at you, "Nothing hm...figures." He dragged his other hand over your body until he reached in between your legs. You gasp feeling him slide two digits against your slit. "You only think with this don't you?"

"What-what are you-ah!" You flinch feeling him slip into you. You were so ashamed by how your body fluttered around the intrusion.

"This is all you can think about hm?" Nanami leaned his head so he could watch the pleasure flicker across your confused eyes.

"Y-You're wrong!"

"Give it a break. You don't want them because they treat you like a princess, you certainly don't want them for money." His fingers curled inside you, rubbing on something delightful. "You just use them for the sex and allow them to do the same to you. Why else do you think all your choices are terrible?"

"S-Stop!" You snatched your face from his fingers, your legs quivering as you let out a tight groan. The way he thrust and curled inside of you was causing your body to betray you. It shouldn't feel this good. "Ah~!" You try to jerk your hands from its binds but you only end up with shaft wrists.

"I can take care of you and more..." He pressed his thumb to your clit, your hips flinched. "Ah~" Nanami grinned, "Did you like that?"

"N-No!" You shout at him but he began to circle your clit expertly. "-Ah~" You bit your lip turning away from him.

He chuckled, "Now now, there's no need to lie...I can feel you clenching around me, go ahead and cum, it's what you want to do."

You squeezed your eyes tight denying this reality, doing your best to escape mentally. You didn't want to feel all this pleasure, but it was too difficult to ignore. From the blonde's taunting words in your ear and the squelch of your wet cunt you knew you were done for. 

You felt something cold touch your neck, it was the knife he used on Mahito, "Look at me. I want to see you when you squirt on me like the slut you are."

You kept your face away but you opened your eyes to glare at him from the side. The knife bites into your flesh like a mere paper cut.

He gave you a sort of soft smile, "You can enjoy it as much as you like, don't be ashamed sweetheart." 

It pissed you off how sweet he sounded. How those simple words sent shivers and butterflies. This man you thought was a friend was a damn killer! Yet you could feel the growing build-up of your orgasm. You began to shake your head trying to pull yourself away from those dangerous hands. 

"N-no no! Stop!"

"Stop? Why would I stop when you are so close my dear? Don't tell me you don't want to cum?"

"Ah-N-no no! I don't want to-mm-" You grit your teeth trying to hold yourself back.

Nanami chuckled low at you, "Sweetheart don't be so stubborn. Come on and be a good girl. Cum for me." His movements didn't let up and even though you did your best to fight, it was inevitable.

You came with a scream, hips lifting as you squirt upon this killer's hand. You felt good and then immediately regret. How could you cum...so much?

"Good girl..." Nanami used the knife to cut off your thin lingerie. "We are going to need to throw this one out my dear, I'll get you a new one. Just for me."

What? He was insane- You had no time to stew in that statement because he pulled his pants low enough to release his large leaking cock.

"N-Nanami!" You were shocked to see how blessed he was. "W-Wait! I-I can't!"

"Yes, I'm aware none of your boyfriends were as big as I am." The blonde pushed your legs up and pressed his tip to your cunt. "Gojo said that they oozed little dick energy and I am quite displeased with you darling, you couldn't even be a slut properly."

You let out a cry as he pushed into you, stretching you around his cock. Tears streaming down your cheeks, making the man moan. He loved seeing you cry. You found that out when you cried to him about your last boyfriend. You didn't want to believe he was hard because of your tears but now you could see- it turned him own.

 Nanami moaned deeply as he kissed the corner of both of your eyes, rolling his hips until he was fully inside you. More tears seemed to pour free, like a never-ending stream. You cried out of frustration- you cried for your dead exes and you cried because the bloody monster above you was making you feel unbelievably good. You hated how he slid in and out of you with no pain- you wish it hurt- you wished you weren't enjoying it.

"It's okay darling. "Nanami cooed sweetly. Let it all out. Cry as much as you want," He snapped his hips faster as you bit back your pleasurable moans. Your bed rocked as he fucked you into it. The psycho blonde talking to you. "They didn't deserve you-mm. None of them..." He panted. 

"N-Nanami~" You began to play into the pleasure, letting it take your moans. Maybe you could speed up this process. You circled your legs around him allowing him to get deeper. Soon your moans weren't 'fake' they were quite real. "Oh~ You feel so good! Ah~Please cum in me!" You cried.

Nanami saw right through your charade, if you thought he was cumming alone you were wrong. He pulled out of you so he could flip you onto your stomach, your arms awkwardly crossed in their binds.

He reentered you making your back arach, "AH!"

"Mm~ I know how much you love being treated like a slut. Beg for it." He slapped your ass as he fucked you from behind.

 Holy shit- 

Your eyes rolled while you moaned deeply. "Oh~P-Please Nanam!"

"Who do you belong to?"

"AH~" 

He slapped your ass again getting much more aggressive as he pulled on your hips and bounced you on his cock. 

"YOUR'S I'M YOUR SLUT PLEASE!" You'd like to say you were still playing along but as he grabbed your breast and smacked your ass like an alleyway whore you may have had a very real very intense orgasm. "Oh fuck-!" You hiss as you came, throwing your hips back so you could feel every part of him. He was long and thick and hit all the right places. Places you never even knew needed to be touched. 

Nanami quickly slipped out of you before you could milk him for all he's worth but once you settled he thrust right back inside, making you scream again. 

"I know my little whore needs more orgasms than two...don't worry... I'll make sure you are more than satisfied."

Trued to his damn word he made sure you were a panting mess by the end of the night. You could barely open your eyes as he finished, shooting his cum all over your face. Marking you with his seed. Despite the messy goop on you he grabbed your chin and kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Demanding you to submit to him. You didn't bite him this time, much too physically and mentally exhausted to do so.

Separating from your lips with a light smack he rubbed your chin sweetly, "Good girl, you took me so well."  

You weakly look at him with a pitiful, "Please release my hands..."

He reached up for his belt and loosened it for your arms to go free. You let out a breath of relief. Before you could rub your wrist Nanami grabbed them and massaged them for you. It was silent in your bedroom...until Mahito's phone dinged. Picking up the device, the blonde snorted and showed you the screen. It was yet another girl your dead ex was fooling around with. Girlfriend number three. You rolled your eyes looking away making Nanami laugh.

"It's not funny..." You muttered.

He pinched your cheek playfully, "Don't pout so much my sweet girl, I'll take care of you. I promise I won't let anyone else hurt you ever again. You are mine and I am yours."

"What if it's you... hurting me..." You blinked looking at his deep brown eyes.

He gave you a charming smile, "I said...anyone else...I do what's best for you." He cupped your cheek, "Because you don't know any better. I do. I know what's best."

You swallowed a harsh lump as reality became all too real. He was a lunatic and wasn't going to let you go. You didn't realize you were crying until he had moved for you.

"Shh...I'm here..." He scooped you up so he could hold you. Just over the mattress, you could see Mahito, lifeless and on the floor, but the whispering from the man behind you was both eerie and soothing at the same time. "I'm here now my sweet girl, let me worry about everything."

~Commission from anonymous ~

https://ko-fi.com/c/a12d45af4a

[crazyinluvfix]

1:1 WOLF MOON ( pt. 2 )

FATAL ATTRACTION - a stiles stilinski story

summary: after a lot of research, a lot of arguing, and a run in with a mysterious stranger, stiles and sera come to the conclusion that scott is a werewolf. sera struggles with this fact while simultaneously trying to keep them from finding out her own secret.

WARNINGS: none

series masterlist

5.5k words

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After practice, I headed straight to my shift at the hospital - an internship I got thanks to Ms McCall.

I was eternally grateful. Not because I had an affinity for medical care, but because a girl needs to eat. And nowadays I would rather suck my blood from a bag rather than a jugular; morality and all that.

The boys shot me a text saying that they were going to pick me up when I was done so we could continue last night’s target of finding the body, or at least just Scott’s inhaler - collateral damage.

I easily spotted Stiles’ Jeep, skipping over to hop in after watching Stiles kick Scott into the backseat.

“Man, that’s so unfair! Why does she always get to ride shotgun?” Scott protested, now sulking in behind us.

When I got in Stiles put his hand on the headrest of my seat to turn back to Scott, “Because it’s her seat.”

I stayed silent, my satisfied smile spoke for me.

My seat. It truly was. I was in this passenger seat more than anyone else so we dubbed it so. It was such a known rule that Stiles had even started to enforce it.

As we drove, Scott noticed me keeping my bag securely on my lap, rather than chucking it to him.

“What’s in the bag?” he pointed to my heavy-looking, extremely full bag.

‘Dinner,’ I wanted to say. But I didn’t. “Oh, just homework,”

Then Stiles looked over too, “God, your teachers must hate you.”

~

“I don’t know what it was.”

Me and Stiles wanted to go over Scott’s sudden, unnatural aptitude for lacrosse.

“It’s like… I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.” It seemed as if it didn’t make sense to him either.

“And that’s not the only weird thing…” his tone almost sounded worried, meanwhile Stiles was just intrigued. “I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear… smell things.”

“Smell things? Like what,” I inquired with a short laugh - I was trying to make light of the situation, but the more he spoke the less funny it became. Maybe it was all just placebo after thinking he got bit by a wolf, that’s what I’d go with.

Scott sniffed the air, “Like the mint mojito gum in Stiles’ pocket.”

Stiles scoffed, reaching down to prove him wrong, “I don’t have any mint mo-” and there it was. The half-wrapped stick of gum lay on his palm.

“Ew,” I muttered, trying to divert my feeling of unease.

“I’m scared that I’ve got some kind of infection from the bite or something,” Scott rambled like he was scared he was dying, although he seemed far from it, “like, what if my body is just flooding itself with adrenaline before I go into shock!”

Noticing the smirk grow on Stiles’ face as I waited for his witty remark.

“You know what, I actually think I’ve heard of this,” he stated as if he was suddenly a biology expert. Scott looked over with hope.

“It’s a specific type of infection,” his hand on his hips as he stopped in his tracks, feigning seriousness.

“Are you serious?” Scott questioned, knowing it was probably one of his jokes, but he was too desperate to care.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded and I rolled my eyes, obliging him since I was curious about where this was going. “It’s called… lycanthropy,” he stated solemnly.

I fought the urge to sigh, or even laugh, but I waited for Scott’s reaction first. Seems like we were on the same wavelength here… except my concerns were a little more real.

“What’s that?” Scott asked, his tone building in worry, “Is that bad?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles agreed quickly, shaking his head, “the worst.”

Scott got just a little more pale as Stiles carried on. “But, only once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“Mhm,” I stepped in, donning the same earnest expression as the boy to my left, “on the night of the full moon.” I felt Stiles’ eyes travel to me and out of the corner of mine I caught his smirk, a silent communication as to what we would do next.

We turned back to Scott and howled in sync, I put my hands around my mouth to amplify the dramatics before we both burst out laughing at Scott’s unimpressed look, him moving forward to push us.

“Not funny, guys, there could be something seriously wrong with me!” Scott stomped on the dry leaves and we continued walking.

“I know! You’re a werewolf!” Stiles put his hands up and growled like a monster.

Again, Scott’s only reply was a glare. “Okay, obviously I’m kidding.”

“I’m not,” I mumbled softly toward the ground, but they both turned around and questioned if I said something.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I looked up and shook my head innocently.

“Look,” Stiles always tried to lighten the mood, “just saying, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver it’s ‘cause Friday’s a full moon,” he ran with the joke, reaching back to tap me on the arm to ask if I heard that one. I didn’t want to laugh, but he was just too good.

Scott just ignored us - he had learned that was best sometimes - instead, mentally scanning the ground. “I- I could’ve sworn this was it.” he squatted down to examine what wasn’t there further. “I saw the body, the deer came running, I dropped my inhaler.” He started to root around in the leaves, retracing his steps.

“The killer might’ve moved the body?” I speculated, because he was right, it was gone, I couldn’t even smell blood anymore.

“Well if he did I hope he left my inhaler, those things are like 80 bucks,” he grumbled saltily.

Over the noise of our banter I must’ve missed the sound of footsteps because, in a moment of silence, I picked up another heartbeat, turning to the side to see a tall man dressed in all black staring ominously in our direction. My arm outstretched to hit Stiles and my leg to kick Scott, but before they could complain, they saw him.

Scott shot to his feet as the man started to walk over.

“What are you doing here?” his voice boomed as he approached, clearly scaring the two boys on my either side as I heard their heart rates pick up and Stiles’ hands fidgeted frantically.

We obviously didn’t answer quickly enough because he spoke again, “Huh?”

I waited for Scott or Stiles to reply first, but they were frozen, I sighed.

“This is private property,” the man warned, the dark tone in his voice unsettling.

Then I smelt it… Wolf.

I stepped up, putting on my best, well-practiced innocent face, and looked up at him. “Oh! We’re sorry, we had no idea. We were just looking for something my friend lost,” my wide eyes sparkled, but he didn’t seem to fall for it, instead, his eyes lingered threateningly on me for a few seconds longer than they did on the boys.

A moment of eerie silence came over us before he swiftly took something out of his pocket and threw it into Scott’s hands. His inhaler. Then, without another word, the man walked away, but not before giving me another creepy death stare.

When he was a few paces away and the boys were still a little too shaken to talk, I broke the tension and chuckled. “Well, he was creepy,”

If my suspicions were right, I knew he heard that.

Stiles spun on his heel to face us his hands jumping up and he looked at Scott as if he was stupid for not reading his mind. “Dude!” he took a step closer so he could talk quietly, “That was Derek Hale! You remember right? He’s only like a few years older than us.”

“His family all burned to death in a fire like 10 years ago,” he continued, but I wasn’t listening. I checked out the moment he said ‘Derek Hale.’

So I was right.

The Hales were a notorious werewolf pack down here on the West Coast, but I had no idea they were still around! I had also heard that they were a different type of wolf… stronger, as they were not bound by only turning on a full moon. But I didn’t exactly know how ‘different’ they really were.

And if that was true about the Hales… then I was correct about Scott.

~

I stayed up the whole night thinking.

Was I a bad friend for not telling them what I already knew? For making them figure this out for themselves while I could easily explain? Yes.

Was it selfish of me to keep such a big part of my life from them when they were the two most important people in my life? Also yes.

But all of this was for their own good. At least that’s what I kept telling myself to distract from the constantly looming cloud of guilt that hung over my head.

Matters only got worse when Stiles messaged me in a panic. A confirmation. They found animal hairs on the body. More precisely, wolf hairs.

~

The next day I got into school considerably late and very sleep-deprived - because despite what the fairy tales say, vampires still need their beauty sleep.

I was practically dozing off in third-period Chem without Stiles there to keep me awake since the team had a mandatory practice before the big game this week, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom and wander around the halls.

“Now listen, McCall. You’re gonna tell me exactly what it is and who you’re getting it from because there is no way you’re out there kicking ass on the field like that without some sort of chemical boost.”

I stopped my stroll around the halls at the sound of a familiar voice from around the corner.

“Oh, you mean steroids! Are you on steroids?”

Then Scott.

I poked my head out around the corner - Jackson had definitely noticed something was up and Scott wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping it a secret. This wasn’t good.

Crash. “What’s going on with you McCall!”

“You really wanna know?”

Uh oh.

“Well so would I! I can see hear and smell things that I shouldn’t be able to see hear and smell! And I-”

“Woah woah woah,” I ran over, replacing Jackson’s hand on Scott’s shirt with mine and pushing Jackson away, standing in between them.

Jackson looked furious, if he were in a cartoon smoke would be coming out of his ears. I stared him down.

He scoffed and took a step back, “You need your little friend to come rescue you?”

I quickly shushed Scott before he made the situation worse.

“Goodbye, Jackson,” I gave him a fake smile and waited for him to leave.

When he kept his eyes on us as he walked away. “I’m onto McCall. I’m gonna find out what it is you’re taking and I don’t care how long it takes.”

Once he had turned the corner I focused my attention back on Scott.

“Thanks, Ser-”

My hand took hold of his collar once more and did the same move Jackson had just done, another crash as he hit the lockers, his eyes wide and confused. “What were you thinking!”

“What do you mean!” he was incredibly confused.

I sighed, realising he doesn’t know what’s going on at all, so I let go. “You can’t just go around telling Jackson Whittemore this stuff! I know you’re scared but he is the last person you should trust.”

The way his expression dropped told me he knew I was right. But our little interaction was cut short by Coach screaming that their break was over.

“Listen,” Scott started as he stepped back towards the door of the locker room, “I’ll see you later at the game.”

“The game? I thought Stiles told you-” but he left before I could finish my sentence.

~

“Stiles!” I hurried over to where he sat on the bench, his leg bouncing frantically as he chewed on his bitten fingernails.

His head flicked in my direction, a look of relief on his face, “Sera! I haven’t seen you all day,” he stood up quickly and put his hands on my shoulders to make sure I was really there.

“I came in late,” I brushed it off.

“Have you talked to Scott?”

His head shook vigorously, “He wouldn’t listen. I’m waiting for him to come out so I can try again.”

Just as he said that I saw Scott walking out onto the field and we both approached him, trying to stop from going out onto the field.

“Scott!” Stiles shouted, his voice breaking as he practically bashed the helmet out of his hands.

“Look! I’m playing the first elimination guys, can it wait?” Scott threw his hands up in annoyance, completely ignoring our desperation.

“Man, just listen!” I put my hands on Scott to physically bring his attention to us.

Stiles spoke and he spoke fast. “I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis on the body came back from the lab in L.A. and they found animal hairs on the body from the woods!”

But Scott was already leaving. We chased after him, no longer bothering to keep our voices hushed.

“Wait! Just hold on!” I reached to grab his sleeve but he was too far, “You’re not gonna believe what the animal was!” Still, he didn’t look back.

Then it was just me and Stiles again. Scott was long gone, but I still finished my sentence, quietly as if only to myself, “It was a wolf.”

For the entirety of the game I could not tear myself away from Stiles on the bench, I simply sat down on my haunches beside him. The more I watched Scott the more my nerves started to skyrocket.

If he was good last time, he was phenomenal now. Before, it was unusual. Now it was plain unnatural the way he swerved and dodged, moving with agility that wouldn’t be out of place in a superhero movie. He even did a whole ass flip over three of the players, that was the kicker. I looked up to Stiles who was already looking back down at me, sharing my loss for words.

Once the game was over we were too lost to join in on the cheering. I knew what was up, and it scared me to know that Stiles knew it too.

Was it so crazy to say that Scott was a werewolf?

~

“So… what exactly are we looking for again?” my eyes wandered over to Stiles at his computer while I lay on his bed, filing my nails.

He was practically buzzing after popping a couple Aderalls the second we got back from school. “Something… Anything!” His hands continued their frenzied typing, the clicking of the keys becoming a soothing background noise.

This was more or less me and Stiles’ typical Wednesday night - him doing whatever at his desk and me simply just being there so I didn’t get too bored sitting at home alone. To be fair, we usually didn’t have the constant impending sense of doom over the fact our best friend might be a freaking werewolf.

But even though we were both here, we hadn’t directly discussed our thoughts or theories, we didn’t really have to. But my anxiety was starting to escalate. “Okay, Stiles!” I speak louder - I had been saying things here or there but he’d been too in his own world to hear.

Finally, he spun his chair around and looked at me with wired eyes, “Hm?”

“What are we doing? What are we thinking?” I longed for a peek into his brain on a regular day, but today I really wanted to delve into those spinning cogs.

He paused to find the words. “We are thinking… There is something seriously up with Scott, and dare I say it- something not even human,” a sigh left his lips that he had bitten to pieces. The way he said ‘we’ instead of ‘I’m thinking’ was almost a plea for agreement, to tell him he’s not going crazy here, and if he was, at least I’d be crazy with him.

I nodded. “Yeah…” it was hard for me to know how much I should or shouldn’t say, or what I could say. Because I knew a lot more than I was letting on, and it was a shitty move - but the more he figured out about Scott… the closer he got to knowing my truth.

Silence hung in the air for a minute before he called me over with a wave of his hand.

“Come, look at this,” he swivelled his chair back around to sift through the myriad of tabs he had open that made his computer run slow and make an awful whirring noise.

My feet carried me to stand behind his chair, bending down to have a look at the screen.

‘Lycaon’

‘Wolfsbane’

A bunch of gory, ancient images littered the screen as he pointed out key phrases from each website.

And then, finally, the word ‘WEREWOLF.’

He must’ve noticed my wide-eyed muteness as he prompted a response out of me.

“Well?” he waited. “Listen, I- I know it sounds crazy, I know that. But… tell me this doesn’t make perfect sense?”

“You’re right,” I admitted candidly. He was.

“Look I’ve texted Scott… I figured he’s the one with all this he should be here to hear it.”

I was left to wonder how Scott would react to all of this; but the fact Stiles had accepted it so quickly was a wonder in itself. Secretly, I think he loved it all a little too much.

Knock knock.

When two loud bangs came from the other side of Stiles’ door he practically jumped out of his skin, luckily I was behind him to hold his chair upright, puting my hand down on his beating chest that he clutched with his own.

I tiptoed toward the door, reaching for the handle, but it opened before I got there.

There he was, his trademark crooked smile plastered on his lips as he could tell from our faces that he had scared us.

“Get in here!” I beckoned.

That’s when Stiles scrambled up to drag Scott in by the collar and pushed him back to sit on the bed while he paced around the room, finally sitting down in his chair.

“I’ve been reading,” he spoke at the speed of light as I took a seat next to Scott.

“For hours,” my hint of sarcasm didn’t seem to be appreciated, so I let him continue.

“Websites, books, all of it!”

Scott chuckled, “How much Adderal have you had today?”

“Unimportant.”

I turned to whisper one last thing before I shut up, “A lot.”

“Remember the joke from the other day…? Not a joke anymore.”

Scott looked clueless.

“The wolf– the bite in the woods!”

Still nothing.

Stiles shot up out of his seat. “Do you even know why a wolf howls?” His hands were flailing about like they always did; sometimes I genuinely thought he moved faster than me, and I have super speed!

“Should I?”

It was a rhetorical question.

“To signal its location to the rest of a pack! So if you heard a wolf howling that means there could’ve been others nearby, maybe even a whole pack of ‘em!”

The poor guy had not taken a break since 3 o’clock. I got up and stood at his side, placing a hand on his shoulder for him to take a breath, “Shh.”

“A whole pack of wolves?” Scott asked, now intrigued.

“No…” Stiles had finally calmed down a tad, “werewolves.”

My insides physically churned upon hearing him say it out loud. Scott however, did not look impressed. He stood up and grabbed his bag, ready to walk out, “Man, are you seriously wasting my time?”

Stiles was about to step forward, but I took over, moving my hand in front of him to signal I had got it, and my other one a bit rougher to Scott’s to stop him from leaving. “Look dude, I saw you on the field today, Scott. What you did today wasn’t just incredible… It was impossible.” My eyes softened, trying to reason with him.

He was about to retort when Stiles jumped back in, “People can’t just do that overnight! You flipped over 3 guys, Scott,” Stiles almost laughed, “Since when have you been able to do that, huh? I mean- your speed, your reflexes! And there’s the vision and the senses,” he listed everything off on his fingers.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice you don’t need your inhaler anymore!”

“Okay, dude! I can’t think about this now, we’ll talk tomorrow.” He somehow brushed off everything thing we had said as if it was the latest school gossip.

But I was now consumed by the same fever as Stiles, scampering up to him and taking him by the shoulders, raising my voice to their volume. “Tomorrow?”

“What!” Stiles added.

“No!” our pleas ping-ponged back and forth rhythmically as we begged for him to just listen. “The full moon’s tonight! Don’t you get it?”

“What are you guys trying to do!” Scott pushed back, but there was nothing in our eyes other than concern for him… and Allison.

“Everything in my life is somehow perfect, for once! Why are you trying to ruin it?”

I could physically feel the shift in the air as Stiles raked his fingers through his hair, taking in a lungful of air. “We’re trying to help,” his sincerity was like a pang to the heart.

“You’re cursed, Scott.”

That somehow hurt even worse.

It was a fact. But I found myself longing again for just a glimpse at what he really thought. Did he think his best friend was a monster? Did he think less of him? My questions were inherently selfish; I didn’t care what he thought about Scott - not nearly as much as what he thought about me. Because imagine how he would feel discovering his other friend is even more cursed, riddled with a dark history of deceit, horror, and even murder.

But this wasn’t about me. “Scott, he’s right,” my face turned just as solemn.

“You’re not only about the risk of you physically changing… it’s also when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

Ah, my old friend. I was one to talk.

“Bloodlust?” his repetition was incredulous.

“Your-” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Your urge to kill.”

Scott practically seethed as his eyes flicked between us, “I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Sera.”

But before I could offer a witty retort of my own, Stiles had begun reading a passage from one of the books on his ransacked desk, “‘The change can be triggered by anger or anything that raises your pulse,’” he snapped the book closed and I half-flinched.

“Alright? I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date.”

Scott knew he was right, but I could hear the anger raising his pulse right there and then as Stiles shot towards his bag, scrambling around to get his hands on Scott’s phone to do it himself. “Screw it, I’m doing it myself.”

The next few seconds seemed to play in slow motion.

Scott’s voice shouted louder than I’d ever heard it, his actions much more aggressive as he practically flung Stiles against a wall in protest for his phone. A fist aimed at his best friend’s face, and his arm swinging back to push over the chair.

Too fast for either of them to notice I ran forward and intervened, pushing Scott’s now heaving figure away from a shellshocked Stiles. No one spoke.

Until Scott.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t sound sorry.

“I gotta get ready for that party.”

Tension in the room hung heavy, it was safe to say that was an unexpected turn.

And me? I was still stuck worrying that either of them had noticed the speed at which I got to them or the strength at which I countered Scott.

But when I finally came to my senses, I knew there was only one thing I could do.

Wordlessly I put my arms around Stiles, his naturally finding their place around my shoulders as I listened to the sound of his breathing.

Whatever was going on with Scott, I would take care of it.

~

The best way to stop Scott from doing anything stupid tonight was to keep an eye on him in person. He was with Allison at Lydia’s party, which naturally had half the entire school there even though it was announced just yesterday.

Which in turn meant that it might be a little more difficult to spot him than hoped.

Since I had come with Stiles I was immediately roped into one of his and his nerd friends’ conversations about something I had no clue about - it sounded like a foreign language. He could tell I was a little out of place, so he stuck by my side, his hand snaking around my waist as nothing more than a friendly gesture.

While we waited for a gap in conversation to seek out Scott, one of the jocks from the lacrosse team ‘bumped into me,’ a typical cocky grin on his lips. “Sorry, babe.”

It was so insincere I almost laughed in his face.

“Come here, I’ll get you a drink to make up for it.”

Gross. Stiles noticed the interaction and audibly scoffed, but I ignored him.

“Ew?” I said simply in the guy’s face, pushing him away with my fingertips and shooing him off.

This little interaction made the boys we were standing with suddenly aware that I was in fact a girl, and a popular one at that, turning them all even more awkward in the blink of an eye - Stiles found this incredibly stupid.

“Hey,” my demeanour screamed boredom and he must’ve noticed. “You go have fun. We can find Scott later, we’ve got plenty of time.”

My eyes lit up. ‘Thank God.’ “Ugh, you’re the best, Sti,” I grabbed his hand with both of mine and walked away, dropping it when out of reach. “Love you, man!” I pointed a finger at him before turning and skipping away.

There was a collective gasp from those boys, so shocked that Stiles could get a girl to say she loved him.

Poor losers. They’re lucky Stiles was a little nerd at heart because he was way too cool for them.

Outside seemed like my best bet to have some fun. Everyone was dancing, drinking, making out. This was my scene. You never outgrew a high school party (unless you were my buzzkill of a twin brother); just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you have to stop living.

I found some guy to dance with to kill my time, sipping a drink out of a red solo cup, all the while keeping my eyes peeled for that pesky little werewolf on the prowl somewhere.

And as we moved, there he was. He still looked very much human, and Allison didn’t look horrified, so it seemed as though we were all good.

The night moved quickly, 40 minutes had felt like ten and now there were even more people to block my watchful eye.

I could smell dog - or wolf rather - over the alcohol and teenage B.O., so Scott must be nearby.

But as soon as I told myself not to panic, my phone rang.

STILES…

Stiles

SCOTT

MISSING

CAN’T FIND HIM

GET OFF THAT DUDE AND COME

“Shit!” I cursed under my breath, causing the guy I was with to give a dumb ‘huh?’ which I waved off, excusing myself and running back into the house.

I soon found Stiles who was standing at the front door, keys in hand and ready to hit it.

But when we got to Scott’s house he had already left out his bedroom window. He would be back, there was no point in chasing him - not on a full moon, not out there.

Stiles went to sit on the bed while I paced, putting a hand on my forehead.

“Listen,” he stayed calm in an effort to soothe my nerves, “he’ll be back soon. I can take you home and I’ll come back to wait for him, I know you haven't been sleeping well.”

I spun on my heel to look him in the eyes, sincere enough to make my hand drop-down. “It’s fine you don’t-”

“Come on,” he stood up, not letting me finish and I didn’t want to argue - he was right, I was stressed, tired, and could not pull another all-nighter due to supernatural stress.

I was an overthinker in life, that was only amplified with being turned.

“Okay…” I admitted defeat, a once-in-a-lifetime thing to hear from me. Stiles even raised his eyebrows in shock that he didn’t have to do any more convincing.

“Thanks,” I paused, looking up at him. Maybe this was his way of making it even after I saved him from Scott earlier; he was the only one who ever saw that I needed saving sometimes too.

~

Late-night rides in Stiles’ Jeep were always a comfort. Music on, but not blaring, yet loud enough for me to sing along - quiet enough to hear my soft melodies over the recording.

I got him to drop me off down my road (as usual), using the excuse of ‘not wanting my brother to see me sneak back in.’

But the walk up to my house felt like a walk of shame. Every time I lied it felt worse. Especially to him.

After opening my door I sped straight up to my room, my swirling thoughts refusing to quiet for one second. I felt so alone in this fabricated life I had made spun. I couldn’t tell Scott or Stiles what I knew, and they were the ones fucking involved!

So I did the only thing I could do and called my brother.

“Damon?”

Immediately, he could hear something was up. Yeah, he was a rude, stone-faced, ladykiller (literally), but I saw his true heart of gold, just like when we were kids.

“Sera? Hey, what’s up?”

Where do I start?

Werewolves. My best friend being one of them. Thinking there might be more.

It was a long conversation.

~

After getting everything off my chest and a nice glass of bourbon, I slept like a rock.

In the morning, Stiles had finally managed to find Scott, picking me up on the way, but I wasn’t much entertainment. I was still half asleep, leaning my head against the window while I yawned.

“You needed that sleep, huh?” Stiles teased, wanting me to admit he was right to send me home last night.

My pride was too strong, but I did crack a smile, “Shut up.”

And soon, we saw a familiar, shirtless frame, wandering alone down where the road met the trees - did he have any idea how much of a werewolf cliche he was?

The car stopped beside him and he saw us, stopping to get in, looking downright shaken.

When he unlatched the door to my side he opened his mouth to tell me to get in the back, but Stiles interrupted before he could.

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, hands still gripping the wheel, “you know the drill, climb through,” he nodded toward the back.

My smile widened. It had become a given.

Scott went to protest that he had just been gallivanting through the woods for a night, but Stiles cut him off with another noise, pulling a disgruntled sigh out of Scott as he dove over the middle console.

The drive was unusually tense. A strong vibe of ‘I told you so’ came off both me and Stiles that coerced Scott into silence who now felt bad for the way he reacted yesterday, because we were right.

After about 3 minutes, he finally spoke, “You know what worries me the most?”

Stiles craned his neck back to see his friend curled up against the metal frame, his face unmoving as he was still angry. “If you say Allison I’m gonna punch you in the head.”

“She probably hates me now,” he whined, not listening.

“I doubt that,” I interjected, “But you might wanna come up with a pretty amazing apology.”

“Or you could tell her the truth,” Stiles shrugged as we both cast looks at him to tell him that was stupid. “And revel in the fact that you’re a freaking werewolf!”

“But really, we’ll get through this,” he continued, not only looking to Scott but to both of us. “If we have to we’ll chain you up ourselves on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once, I could do it.”

There he was. His tone was lighter again as he reached down into his bag to chuck Scott the shirt he brought for him since we were headed straight for school. It was Stiles. He couldn’t stay mad for too long, not at something he found as awesome as this.

It left me with a glimmer of hope.

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a/n: things are getting tense… check the series masterlist at the top for other parts x leave liked and comments !

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