#found it again a few months ago but still wasn’t taking them

[poprockspillage]

holy fuck iron pills taste bad

[no-144444]

family fights- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar were never meant to be together, lando made that clear. one night changes everything, then another changes it again.

pairing: oscar piastr x fem! norris! reader

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He’d done it again. Another win. Oscar Piastri was a two-time GP winner. 

And no one could ever take this one away from him. 

Over the past few weekends, he’d been pretty down about everything. Hungary, the whole ‘papaya rules’ bullshit, and how everyone had something to say about Monza. He’s a fucking racecar driver, and he wasn’t a second driver. It’s in his goddamn contract, thanks to Mark. And anyways, why would he pull over and let Lando take points from him, when he’s so close to P3 in the Driver’s standings? Charles is slowly but surely trying to build a gap, and Oscar is not planning on making it easy for him. It’s his second fucking season of F1, and he’s matching his teammate. Is that not something to be proud of? 

Apparently not in Lando’s fan girls’ eyes. It’s pathetic really, the memes were funny a while ago, and now it’s all getting to be too much. 

And then there’s you. Lando’s sweet little sister who loved Oscar more than life itself. You’d gotten him through the lows of the past few weeks, with just a smile his way.

But Lando wouldn't let you two be together. It was a ‘betrayal’, in his mind. 

It was bullshit. Lando liked having something over him, and you were the ‘thing’ in this scenario. You’d liked Oscar for ages, and you started in secret, too scared to tell Lando. You continued like that for a whole year, somehow hiding it seamlessly. It was the best relationship either of you had ever been in. You matched each other perfectly, and you got to see him everyday, since Lando had brought you on as his physio. Stolen kisses behind closed doors was a-ok with you two, until Lando had to walk into something he wasn’t supposed to. It was your anniversary night and yes, maybe you should’ve checked that the door was properly locked, but when he was kissing you like that? Who would be able to find it in themselves to care? For some reason, Lando walked into your apartment, ready to tell you off for not locking your door, and he found you and Oscar asleep in your bed, 1 year anniversary cards on the counter, and a bottle of wine beside the sink. On the drying rack there were 2 clean plates, two sets of cutlery, two glasses, one bowl, and two spoons. He was so angry. He just stormed in and started screaming at the two of you, telling you that you’d betrayed him for a whole year, making accusations left and right, and generally just ruining your perfect night. 

Then he gave the both of you an ultimatum. Date and lose him as a brother and a friend, or break up and he’d never speak about it again. You two could be friends, but always at a healthy distance. 

It took you both a week to make the decision. You were both crying when you called him to tell him you’d broken up. His response? Good. 

He barely talked to either of you for a month, and you truly feared the worst for your relationship with him. But, in true Lando fashion, one day he just started to be normal again, and everything was ok. 

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Oscar still remembered the way you looked when he'd made the choice to go behind Lando's back. You were wearing your favourite dress, you hair styled perfectly, your nails done, your makeup done, everything. It was for some boring gala that Oscar didn't want to sit through, and neither did you. Though nevertheless you went as the dutiful sister you were and made polite conversation with the gross old dudes who wouldn't leave you alone, and Oscar (he hoped he wasn't grouped in with them).

"Do you want to get some air?" he offered as you finished up a conversation with Christian Horner.

"I'd love to," you nodded, somehow keeping the soft smile on your face.

You burst out of the hall laughing, having run away from Lando. You got on well with Oscar. He was lovely, honestly. "He's going to kill us," you laughed, grabbing ahold of his shoulder to steady yourself.

"Worth it," he smirked.

You two spent some time outside, eventually ending up outside in the cold French air. You two somehow ended up intertwined on a bench outside the venue.

"I really enjoyed sneaking off with you," you beamed at him.

"I really enjoyed it too," he blushed. "We should do it again some time."

You laughed. "I think Lando will kill us if we pull that again-"

You stopped talking because he'd started kissing you, and you didn't want him to stop.

"I like you," he pulled back. "A lot."

It was so juvenile you almost laughed. Yet, you found yourself answering with; "I like you too."

And thus began your year-long love.

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To be honest, Oscar hated clubs. He hated the sweaty air, the suffocating closeness of everyone, and the heavy drinking. Oscar didn’t drink much, mainly a glass of wine with dinner every now and then, or a celebration drink when there was something to celebrate. He wasn’t a huge fan of feeling out of control.

Despite all of that, he’d somehow been convinced by Lando to go ‘out on the town’. He didn’t want to go out on the town. He wanted to stay home, or bump into you in the cinema near your shared apartment building. You two had been doing that a lot lately, bumping into each other there. You’d sit together, or a few chairs apart, but it’d feel a bit like before you’d broken up. It felt good.

You missed him dearly, as he did you. He knew you were going to see a special midnight showing of Psycho, yet he couldn’t even go because Lando dragged him out. 

“Mate!” Lando shouted from the other side of the VIP booth. 

“What?” Oscar asked, walking up to him. 

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Lando, being the prick he is, signalled to a girl in the middle of the dance floor that looked nothing like you. “Look, she’s nothing like Y/n! It’s perfect!” 

Oscar felt his blood boil, and finally spill over. “Fuck off Lando. That’s not fair-”

“What’s not fair was the fact that you dated my little sister behind my back!” He shot back. 

Oscar grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him out of the club, into the humid Monaco air. This back alley was usually used for a smoke break, but tonight it would be used as a fucking ring. 

“I’m not expecting you to understand anything I'm going to say, but fuck you Lando. I loved Y/n- I love Y/n, and you took that all away from me because of what?! You felt betrayed? You felt bad? It was overwhelming? We’ve proven that we’re not awkward if we break up, we’re actually ridiculously civil, all for your sake! You’re the one being unfair here. Yes, maybe we should’ve told you earlier. Yes, maybe it was wrong to keep it from you, but for fuck’s sake man! She’s your little sister, I’m your friend, it’s not like you don’t know us! I’d never do anything to hurt her, and she’d never use me, or whatever bullshit excuse you gave me. Now, I know you don’t fucking understand this, but I love her. More than anything in the entire fucking world. More than racing, more than anything. She’s what gets me through the shitty days and even shittier races. Knowing that, once I get out of the car, she’ll be standing there with a smile, or a hug on the occasions where you don’t watch us like a fucking hawk, makes it all fucking worth it for me. You took that away from me, and you took it away from her. It ate at her the entire year we were together that she couldn’t tell you, because well, of course it would! You are her older brother, her best friend. She should’ve been able to tell you about her boyfriend. She questioned herself after every day we spent together, every date we went on, about whether or not what we were doing was right. She felt so guilty. I felt so guilty. But at the end of the day when I saw her waiting for me in my driver’s room, or my apartment, or at the foot of the podium, I knew that what I felt was right. And it wasn’t just me feeling it Lan, she loved me back,” he sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “So no, I don’t want to meet someone at a club, I want Y/n. My Y/n. And I don’t give a fuck if you’re upset by that, because I’ve given you every reason to trust me Lando, and I promise you, I’ll never try to hurt her. I’ll keep her safe, and above all, I’ll love her.” 

Lando was taken aback. He was a lot more sober now. He’d never seen Oscar show so much emotion. He’d never seen Oscar show much emotion, point blank. Yet here he was, standing in front of him, crying over his little sister. “Mate, what do you mean?”

“I means you’re a fucking asshole Lando, and I don’t give a shit if you don’t want me to date Y/n. It means I’m going to ask her out again, and if she says yes I won’t stop just because you’re a dickhead who can’t stomach the fact that she loves me, and I love her.” 

Lando was again, taken aback. He’d never really had a reason as to why he didn’t like you and Oscar dating, it just felt… weird to him. Then, with about a moment's worth of self-reflection, he realised. He didn’t want to be second to Oscar. All his life, you’d been his biggest supporter, you two were always together, always there for each other, always his little sister. From cradle, to karting, coffin, he thought he’d be the only driver you supported and cared about. Then, in came Oscar, being everything he wanted to be; cool, calm, collected, talented, unprideful, gracious, and kind. Everything he worked to be. It had taken Lando 6 years to get a win, Oscar did it in his first year. It took Lando 2 years to get a podium, Oscar did it in his debut season.  “Well it’s just not right,” Lando shot back. “She’s my little sister, and I’m not being second to you with her! That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to choose you over me!” 

“She chose you! She broke up with me because you asked her to! I don’t know what the fuck you think is going to happen if we start dating again, but it’s not like we’ll just abandon you Lando! She’s your sister, and she loves you more than life itself! For fuck’s sake, if this was all about being scared that she’d pick me over you, we could’ve sorted this out weeks ago!” 

“I have to be second place to a fucking rookie! Do you know how that feels? Bad, Oscar, it feels bad. And now you want to come here and tell me that I’m second place to that same rookie, in my sister’s opinion? Y’know how that feels? Worse!” Lando was crying now, unable to control it. “I’ve been second to someone my whole fucking life, and Y/n was the one person who understood me! And now you want to take her away!” 

“I’m not taking her away, Lando! We’re both still going to be here for you!” Oscar took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t take your frustrations on the track out on her, she’s the one suffering for it. You’re suffering for it too, and so am I. Lando, she loves you no matter what, you know that.” “I’m scared alright?” He groaned. “I’m scared that one day I’ll turn around after an interview and see her celebrating you winning over me! I’m scared that she’ll see I’m not as good as you! I’m scared.” 

“You can be scared all you want, but she isn’t like that, Lando. Talk to her about this, she’ll reassure you-”

“And how the fuck would you know? You barely know her-”

“I know her a lot better than you do if this is what you think of her,” Oscar’s words cut through the tension in the warm air. Lando flinched like he’d been hit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me from this shitty night out, I’m going to go find your sister and tell her how I feel. Goodbye Lando.”

Oscar didn’t even bother going back inside to grab his coat, he just started walking. Jimmy’s was a 30 minute walk from your regular cinema, and if his calculations were correct, you’d be getting out of the screening just then. 

As he walked he thought about everything Lando had said. It was pathetic, honestly, why couldn’t Lando have just told you how he felt instead of ruining the incredible thing you and Oscar had going with his own insecurities. Maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe Lando just hadn’t experienced what you two had. 

“Oscar?” you walked up to him, smiling. 

“Hi,” he answered, stopping in his tracks.

“How are you?” you asked, awkward tension filling the air.

“I’m… I’m alright. I wanted to talk to you,” he explained. 

“Talk away,” you smiled. 

“Well… Lando and I had this big blow up argument, and I made a choice. I don’t care what he wants anymore, and if he has a problem with me loving you, then it’s his problem, not ours. I want you back Y/n, more than anything. I miss you every fucking day. And if the only reason we’re not together is because of him, then I’m forgetting how he feels. I want you back if you’ll have me.”

You stood there, shocked. It had been 4 months since you and Oscar had broken up. You loved him, but you loved your brother too. You couldn’t put your relationship with your brother at risk for Oscar, could you? Lando had been for you throughout your childhood, a constant. You wouldn’t be able to handle him not being there, would you? “Oscar, when did you two argue-?” “30 minutes ago?” he shrugged, a soft smile on his lips. 

“I-oh wow. Osc, you know I love you, but Lando’s my brother and… I can’t betray him, can I?”

“Is it betrayal?” Oscar questioned. 

You’d been trying to figure out for the past 4 months why it was betrayal, yet you came up blank every time. Lando had dated friends of yours, and broken their hearts, why shouldn’t you return the favour? “But he said it was. He’s my brother Osc… I can’t just… ruin our relationship-”

“He ruined ours!” he sighed, exasperated. “All because he’s a insecure prick, no offence-” “None taken-” “And he was scared you’d stop picking him over me, which I understand but like, for fuck’s sake, he could’ve just spoken to you about it!” 

You thought for a moment. What did you want? Oscar. Always. You woke up thinking about him, fell asleep thinking about him, dreamt of him. He was everything you’d ever wanted.  “Are we really going to do this Osc?” you whispered into the darkness of the night. 

His lips turned into a smile, and then they were on yours. He’d gotten the girl, he’d gotten the win, and he didn’t care what anyone else said.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[fairytaleendingss]

Room For One More?

Chapter 1

Summary: After a sudden eviction from your home, your friend Mary puts you in contact with her high school friends, James, Sirius and Remus who just so happen to be in need of a roommate. However, living with a group of boys you’ve never met before proves to be more complicated than you expected; especially when they’re all so attractive.

CW: None I don’t think.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

——

To say that life had been crazy lately would be putting it lightly. You had only just moved to the city six months ago, in pursuit of a career you were still yet to achieve, got landed with an office job that you were only barely qualified for, and the eviction notice on the door of your shitty downtown apartment was just the icing on the cake.

For a good few days it seemed like your world was caving in around you as you tried to collect yourself and figure out the next steps. In a city like London, real estate was scarce, not to mention expensive, and you were still working to pay off your student loans.

It was only two days before you were set to be kicked out when your new friend, Mary stepped in and saved the day.

You met Mary at your new office job and she’d been somewhat of a saving grace from the beginning.

She had been a splash of colour in a sea of black suits and beige blouses. She’d been quick to introduce herself, inviting you to join her for lunch on your first day, during which she caught you up on all the ins and outs of office politics. The two of you had become fast friends, something you were extremely grateful for.

And you found yourself even more grateful for her, as her car pulled into the driveway of the apartment building you were about to call your new home.

“How do you know these guys again?” You asked, glancing up at the red brick structure through the passenger window.

“We all went to high school together,” She explained. “I know them really well, trust me they’re great guys.”

You believed her. She’d never given you a reason not to. But still, moving into a household with three strange men that you’ve never met, is bound to be daunting nonetheless.

“And you’re 100% sure they’re okay with me moving in? I mean, they don’t even know me!”

She only giggled. “Don’t be silly! They’re completely on board. They’ve been looking for a new roommate since their other friend Peter moved out a month ago to get a place with his girlfriend, Sybil. They were just about to put up an ad on Craigslist, for heavens sake. Trust me, you’re doing them a favour. If I love you, they’ll love you too.”

You nodded at her but your heart still hummed unsurely in your chest. You took a deep breath. It was now or never.

After a treacherous journey up the narrow staircase with boxes in hand, you arrived at the door to the apartment. Mary was behind you, lugging a suitcase full of your clothes. You wished, for a moment that her friends at least lived in a building that had an elevator. You erased that thought from your mind a moment later, when you remembered that these people were doing you a massive favour. Besides, you were hardly in a position to complain.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. When it swung open you had to make a conscious effort to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Standing in front of you was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. He was fair and lean with long strands of dark hair fanning his face. He was chiseled in a way that made him look delicate, almost doll-like but he also had tattoos lining his arms and chest, which you could see poking out from beneath his white t-shirt. He was leaning against the doorframe, effortlessly cool, looking down at you with a flirtatious smirk on his face.

“Hey there gorgeous. You must be the new roommate. I’m Sirius.”

You peered up at him in shock, not quite sure how to respond to this man who had the face of a Greek God. And did he just call you gorgeous? You weren’t sure what you were expecting but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Um, hi,” you stumbled awkwardly. Your hands felt clammy even just looking at this guy, how the hell are you supposed to live with him? “I’m y/n.”

His grin only widened “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ugh, stop flirting with her Sirius! And move out of the way, this stuff we’re carrying is heavy you know.”

You’d almost forgotten Mary was there until she’s stepping forward, shoving past Sirius who was blocking the doorway, and entering the apartment.

“Sorry hun, just trying to make conversation,” Sirius teased, stepping aside gently to let you in.

The place was bigger than you expected. Not huge but definitely comfortable, and better decorated. The picture you’d created in your imagination could only be described as a “bro cave” with bean bags on the floor and minimal furnishings. However, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the place is rather nice and homey, with comfortable leather furniture and a few framed artworks on the walls.

“Well, welcome home,” Sirius said, following you into the living room. “I can’t take any credit for the interior design, unfortunately. That was all Remus. Speaking of, I’ll go get him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet you.”

Sirius padded off down the hall, making his way to one of the rooms and banging heavily on the door.

“Remus! The new roommate is here! Don’t be rude and come and meet her!”

The boy that emerged was equally as attractive as Sirius. He was taller than the first boy, with a mop of sandy hair and dark, piercing eyes. He wasn’t as effortlessly cool as Sirius, he was more lanky and hunched in posture, but he had a sort of nerdy charm about him that was very endearing. He was dressed in a thick woollen jumper and his hair was mattered. He blinked up at Sirius, like he hadn’t quite caught up with the situation yet.

“What’s going on?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “Our new roommate is here! Come and say hello!”

He peered out of the doorway. Looking in either direction before his eyes landed on you. Not quite sure what to do with yourself, you sent him an awkward wave.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” he replied in return, with a tight lipped smile. Then he turned back to Sirius.

“Could you go away now please? I was having a nap.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

There door was abruptly slammed in his face.

You stood in the living room, holding a box to your chest awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable about the interaction. Sirius could apparently tell, and was quick to jump to your aid.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said dismissively. “He’s just in a mood. He’s a med student and all the studying is driving him wild at the moment. He’ll come good after he gets a bit of sleep. Now, how about I show you to your room?”

He directed you down the hallway to a door at the end. Inside, you could already see Mary hanging up your clothes in the wardrobe.

“So this is you,” Sirius muttered, gesturing to the space like a magician revealing his assistant had not, in fact, been sawed in half. Then he sent you another flirtatious smile, something you were quickly learning was a signature of his.

“I’ll leave you girls to it but just shout if there’s anything you need. Although, if you want someone to help carry boxes, I’d recommend waiting until James gets home later on. He’s the athletic one of the three of us. And let me tell you those stairs are a killer.”

You chuckled, a genuine smile overtaking your face for the first time in this whole experience.

“Thanks Sirius. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he drawled, giving you a wink.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Okay Sirius. Thank you but you can go now. We have a lot of unpacking to do here.”

Once Sirius had departed, you and Mary got to work on unpacking your things. Luckily for you, Peter had left behind a bed frame and a few pieces of furniture in his move, a saving grace considering most of your stuff had come with the previous apartment. You still had a mattress strapped to the roof of Mary’s car that needed bringing in, but like Sirius had said, Mary insisted that you wait for the mysterious James to return from work to help you carry any of the heavier items inside (With the way the others talked about him, you could only imagine he must be a superhero). Instead you busied yourself with unpacking your random assortment of trinkets collected over the years.

“So how are you feeling about the place?” Mary pried, unpacking a few shoe boxes into the bottom of the closet.

“It seems alright,” you admitted. “To be honest, I was a little nervous going into this but Sirius seems nice. I think he and I will get along.”

Mary smiled. “Oh good! I knew you’d like it. And just wait until you get to know the other boys better too. You’ll fit right in! I’m sure of it.”

You have her an anxious smile. “I really hope you’re right.”

—

It was a few hours later, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

“Honey! I’m home!” A playful voice boomed down the doorway.

You slowly emerged from your room to greet your final roommate. The guy was visibly buff and wearing a mud-covered jersey. He had matted tuft of thick dark curls and round glasses that balanced on the edge of his nose.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hi. I’m y/n. I’m your new roommate.”

He looked up curiously before his expression morphed into a dazzlingly charming smile. He began to approach you and you held out a hand for him to shake. He bypassed the gesture all together, instead choosing to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug.

You were caught a little off-guard at first but tentatively hugged him back, heat rising in your cheeks as you felt the muscles of his biceps flex against you.

Pull yourself together!! You thought.

As he pulled away, he looked down at you, a few stray curls falling in front of his eyes. He smiled widely, reminding you somewhat of a playful puppy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” He exclaimed. “Mary’s told me so much about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your own face as you looked up at him. You really liked James, you decided.

“How have you been settling in so far?” He continued.

“Pretty well, I suppose. I’ve done most of my unpacking now.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Well if you need help with anything, let me know. I’d be happy to assist.”

You grimaced. “Actually there is one thing you might be able to help me with?”

He raised a brow expectantly.

“How do you feel about mattress transportation?”

—

Manoeuvring a queen sized mattress up three floors of narrow stairs proved to be a challenging task. But somehow, between the two of you, you managed it.

By the time James actually wrestled the mattress on your bed-frame, you were just about ready to collapse on top of it.

Mary, unfortunately, had found the whole display hilarious, especially the moment where you’d lost your grip and send the mattress sliding down the stairs back to the first floor. So instead of offering to help, she’d taken the opportunity to film the entire ordeal on her phone. You expected it would be gracing social media by the end of the evening.

“Well, I’d say that’s a job well done!” James exclaimed as he finally dropped the material onto the bed-frame.

You chuckled. “Yeah! I mean it only took an hour and a half.”

James smiled and checked the watch on his wrist.

“It’s getting late and I really should shower. But how about we order pizza afterwards. We could have dinner and get to know each other a little better.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! Mary, darling, you’re invited too of course.”

The girl looked between the two of you, smiling playfully. Then she shot you a look.

“Thanks for the offer Jamie but I actually have some stuff I need to get done back at home. You guys enjoy though.”

She sent you a wink as she went and your eyes widened.

“I’m going to go wash off, but there’s a take out menu on the fridge,” James said. “Pick out whatever you want. My shout.”

—

A short while later you found yourself sat on the loveseat, a plate of pizza in your lap while Sirius and James sat side by side on the couch, bickering about the most recent episode of the Bachelor. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched on.

They argued in a way that was firm but affectionate. You could tell that they were particularly close and had clearly known each other a long time.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Sirius exclaimed, waving his piece of pizza in the air for emphasis. “Jennifer was such a bitch! She totally deserved to be sent home.”

James gasped in mock offence. “No way! He should’ve kept her. They had a special connection.”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius blurted. “All she did was talk about herself. She barely even gave him the time of day.”

“I disagree! She was playing hard to get. Girls only do that when they like someone!” James stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t contain your snort at the comment.

Sirius turned to you then, a smirk adorning his gorgeous face. “Well, lucky for us, we now have a girl here to settle agreements such as these. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the nickname. “If I’m being honest, I have to agree with Sirius. Jennifer was kind of a bitch.”

Sirius cheered and James held a hand to his chest dramatically.

“Well you’re both wrong,” James joked. “We must have been watching two different shows.”

Sirius scoffed. “Nah, mate. You just have a terrible radar when it comes to girls. I mean, you’ve been chasing the same girl since you were fifteen and she’s still shown you no interest.”

Your eyebrows raised at that one. “Wait what? I feel like I’ve missed a chapter here.“

“She’s just a friend.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a friend you’ve been in love with since third form.”

James sighed.

“There’s this girl, Lily, in our friend group,” he began to explain, looking rather bashful. “And I’ve kind of been into her for a while but she always turns me down.”

You grimaced, clicking your tongue in sympathy. “That sucks. But hey, If she’s managed to keep your interest for all these years then she must really be special. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

James smiled gently. “I’m sure you will soon. She and Mary are quite close.”

Sirius face lit up suddenly at that. “Actually guys, that reminds me. The band is playing a gig on Saturday and everyone’s coming. You should join us y/n!”

“Hold on, since when are you in a band?�� You queried. “I thought you were a bartender.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m a bit of both! Bartender by night and lead singer of ‘Snakes and Lions’ by… well also by night I guess.”

“Basically, he plays in a band on the weekends,” James clarified.

“Yeah, and soon, we’ll be world famous!”

“Well I’d love to come and see you play,” you uttered.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

“What’s a date?”

You all looked up to see that Remus had finally emerged from his room. He looked tired and a little disheveled. Although you supposed that was the only way you’d had a chance to see him so far.

“Rem, mate! Come join us! We got Italian sausage just for you!”

Sirius gestured to one of the pizza boxes on the table and Remus nodded, grabbing a plate to fill.

“We were just telling y/n about Sirius’ gig this weekend.”

Remus looked up at you for a moment, his tired eyes unreadable. Then he straightened himself up and came to stand before you awkwardly.

“You’re um… you’re in my seat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

You shot up from the spot, feeling rather mortified by the interaction.

“It’s okay, you can come sit here!” James stated, sliding further towards the armrest of the sofa and patting the spot in between himself and Sirius.

You sat down tentatively, but Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder which helped a bit in easing the nerves.

You found yourself glancing over at Remus. He seemed quiet as he munched on his pizza. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of frustration towards him. He’d been nothing but rude to you since you arrived and you had no clue why.

“So tell us, y/n. What brought you to London?”

Your thoughts were cut short by Sirius’ question.

“Well, I just finished my degree not too long ago and I decided I needed a change, I suppose. London has a lot of good opportunities.”

“What did you study?” James asked, leaning his head in his hand as he looked down at you.

“Literature actually. I want to be a writer.”

Sirius brows shot up. “Really? That’s great. You should talk about that with Remus. He loves books.”

“Hmm?” The boy looked up then, as if having been lost in his own world, before brought back by the sound of his name.

“Y/n studied literature at university.”

He glanced over at you, only looking mildly interested. “Oh, that’s good.”

Then he turned his wrist glancing down at the watch that he wore. “It’s getting late. If you all don’t mind, I think I will finish dinner in my room. I have a lot of work to do.”

You frowned at that. Had you done something to upset him? Why was he so eager to get away from you?

“Alright mate. We’ll see you in the morning,” James muttered, oblivious to the issue.

Remus nodded at him before getting up slowly and sauntering back into his room.

James continued munching on his pizza happily but Sirius clearly noticed the way you tensed at the boy’s exit. He leaned in closely, speaking in a low tone so only you could hear.

“Sorry about him. He really isn’t like this usually. I’ll have a talk with him.”

You sighed. “No no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

You really didn’t want to be a point of contention between these boys.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble-“

“No it’s fine,” you shook your head. “Actually, I’m feeling a little tired as well. I might turn in for the evening.”

James looked over at you with gentle eyes. “Okay. Sleep well.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, jumping up from the couch. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Once you got to your room, you lay back heavily against the door, sighing. You considered the events of the day. There had been few hiccups but you decided then and there that you’d do whatever you could to move past them.

You got along well with James and Sirius seemed friendly. It was just Remus who was yet to warm up to you.

As you got ready for bed, your mind ran over the interactions that you’d had so far and wondered what might be the root of his frustrations.

Maybe things will be different tomorrow, you thought, as you settled in for the night.

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : a series of unfortunate events . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil sighs, scrunching his eyes shut, which proved to be more difficult than it appeared with the mud mask that he applied over half an hour ago still on his face, currently drier than the gluten free bread he bought last week. He melted into his couch, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom settle into his otherwise restless body. 

Before he knew it, he found himself mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking through the self proclaimed critique’s 30 to 60 second reviews on his new movie or the finale of some show he was in, for a hit of dopamine. Which clearly wasn’t working, as each video was the same thing washed over and over again repeated with new synonyms bundled together to sound authentic (Which it rarely was) and of course, there was those few criticisms here and there, nothing uncommon. 

Vil lays his head back, scrolling some more, “Influencer Tartaglia joins the new soon to debut boyband, D!CKZ—”, he shuts his phone and tosses it to the side carelessly . . Did he ever mention his distaste for influencers moving into the entertainment industry? . . It makes his blood boil, just a tiny bit, since most of the influencers tend to ruin it for a lot of genuinely talented and lesser known actors out there, not to mention they’re so-called talent is usually mediocre at best. 

And he could go on and list all the reasons why influencers do not deserve a spot in the spotlight with the elite, and they may all seem reasonable at first, but it’s a cover-up for the real reason.

He feels some weird sort of envy, towards those individuals who put in zero effort and somehow make it, and get all these big protagonist roles right away, and how they aren’t criticized for their faults or terrible acting skills, just because they have a huge built fanbase of delusional fangirls ready to defend them from the get-go. 

Or how they aren’t criticized when they look less than perfect on screen, although he appreciates that current age viewers can acknowledge that it’s only human to get acne or maybe a pimple here and there, he didn’t meet the same fate when he was younger . .  It just makes him feel bitter . . and he’d never speak those feelings into existence, but deep down he does feel a bit hurt by the shift, it sometimes makes him feel like all those previous breakdowns were for naught. 

Vil snaps out of his pity party for one, getting up and stretching, going into the bathroom to wash off the mask before it dries out his skin (It probably already has), burn-out has hit him hard, and as much as his love for acting runs-deep, he’d rather take a break before his audience starts noticing his shift in acting. 

Which is why he agreed to hosting the show in the first place, he wanted to switch up his career, for awhile at least, he’s taking a break from acting but doesn’t want to directly leave the industry, because it’s difficult to fit right back in place once you leave, as there's always someone who could come and steal your position, and maybe even do better . . that’s why this industry is so hard to survive in, and as pitiful as it sounds, he’s practically married to his work, he can’t exactly risk it, in peace. 

Vil dries his face with a towel and then moves to grab his moisturizer, when his work phone rings. 

“Hello, this is Amanda from Descendants. Inc. We talked before reguardinging ‘Late nights & Flashing lights’ . ” . . . “So, due to a multitude of reasons, we’re kind of in a time crunch to get the premiere launched, by the end of this month actually . . . but, we’ve received confirmation on who’ll be co-hosting with you, Y/n L/n!” 

“ . . . excuse me?” 

“This must be such a shock, but Y/n has actually been our top pick for this role, and the internet seems to really want to see the two of you on-screen together, considering your screen presence, I honestly think you two will be a perfect match for the show.”  

“I—”, Vil’s voice was hoarse as he tried to mentally wrap around all the information that was just dropped, “Ah—That’s time, we’re so excited to see you on set next week.” . . . “If you’d like, I could send you y/n’s number beforehand, so the two of you could talk things through?”, that seems to snap him back to reality, as the professionalism seeps right back into him, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

The doorbell rings, informing Vil that his takeout that he ordered about two hours ago had finally arrived, but he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Drinking is completely legal at 18-19 in my country, so I'm just putting that over here before someone tries fighting with me about it (This has happened before), also Vil is currently in his late 20's.

Don't expect everything to play off of Vil in-game, since this is placed like a decade into the future, so things will be changes and messed around with to fit the current age and setting more. <3

Profiles | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

— taglist ♡ ; @well-look-at-this , @honkai-freak , @kingnem10 , @merviolet-asks , @katzline , @pebble-bb , @meigalaxy , @lordbugs , @crowbird , @yuus3n , @azriel-sama , @reivelmin , @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 , @eliza-be-t-h , @feverish-dove , @yejiswifex , @l0v3r666 , @cece-cherries , @frootloopscos , @abell2029cluster , @ephemii , @alienlatteinspace

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© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader

Simon Riley: Girl Dad

From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video

“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 

She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.

"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.

It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.

You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 

He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 

“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”

You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  

When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.

She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.

It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.

“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 

It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.

His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”

Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”

Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”

Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 

His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.

Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 

“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  

Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 

“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.

Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”

The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.

The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 

“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.

She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.

He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 

Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.

“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”

Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.

He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?

As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 

“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.

“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”

Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”

“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 

“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”

The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.

Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”

The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.

Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 

“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”

Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.

“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”

“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”

Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 

“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”

“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.

Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.

Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 

“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”

She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 

“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 

He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”

Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 

“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”

Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”

And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.

[cherryrikis]

HEAVY HEART

PAIRING football captain!bf jake x fem reader

WARNINGS swearing, dehydration, mentions of jake killing himself (but its just a reference to an argument), a lot of break up talk (spoiler alert - this is not foreshadowing), jake’s kinda depressed, crying and a lot more kinds of sappy stuf

GENRE angst, fluff, also not proofread

SYNOPSIS jake returns home nearly 3 weeks post argument, only to find the house empty. to the public, it seemed you two were broken up, but he denied it. your relationship couldn’t end like this. when you finally do come back, you don’t expect jake to be sleeping in your once shared bed. and you definitely don’t expect him to beg for forgiveness.

part 1 is here. but this can be read as a standalone!

to jake, the world seemed colorless without you.

anything and everything you both once shared a love for, seemed to dull with only one person.

the flowers he bought you over a month ago had wilted, with no one to take care of them.

when jake returned to your shared apartment the day after the argument, he didn’t think you’d be the one to leave. at least, that’s what it seemed like. you didn’t technically leave, just, away from the house.

luckily, jake was able to find out through heeseung that you’ve been staying at yizhuo’s house. at least you were safe.

she’ll come back. she just needs time. he often reminded.

but days bled into weeks, into nearly a month that you’ve been gone, and jake found himself longing for you even more than before.

jake’s usual routine was to brush his teeth, change his clothes, and lie down in bed as he hugged your pillow (now stained with his tears).

his hair was so nappy, it had gone days, nearly a week, without being brushed out.

jake had grown accustomed to this sad usual cycle. but he still wasn’t used to being by himself. at least, not used to being without you.

so when he heard the faint click of the lock at the front door, he jumped up in shock. jake immediately discarded the depressed pillow and ran up to you with your luggage and all.

he pulled you into a tight hug, nearly forgetting the current situation all because he missed you being in his hold. jake realized how much he took you for granted. he just wanted his girlfriend back.

but it wasn’t that easy.

“oh, sorry..” he cleared his throat as he felt you gently try to pull away.

with the space between you two, you could see his features more clearly. your heart ached as you examined his pale face.

the more you looked at him, the more you realized there were three things for certain. one, jake most likely hasn’t gone outside since he came back home from jay’s (due to how pale he appeared and how cold his skin felt).

two, jake hasn’t been sleeping well, if he had even slept at all, due to all the crying he’s done (thanks to his dark circles and puffy eyes).

three, he’s missed you so much beyond compare, you nearly felt the slightest bit of sympathy for him (your discarded pillow on the floor made it clear as you walked into the once shared bedroom).

“can we talk please?” jake croaked out with a sore voice, as he’s had no reason to use it in the last few weeks.

he continued to follow you around the room as you walked over to the closet, tossing your heavy luggage inside of it.

“i know you haven’t been doing well. i heard jungwon and heeseung tried to visit. but you never answered.” you ignored, as you reached up to pull jake’s old sweater (which you stole) off the hanger.

he watched you struggle for a little while, before ultimately grabbing it for you. “thanks.” you murmured, pulling the soft cotton material over your head.

“y/n-” jake started, only for you to cut him off again. “and sunghoon. jay as well. jay and sunghoon actually were the ones who called me, convinced me to come over.”

you briefly looked up at your boyfriend, pausing your actions before moving back down to continue unpacking your luggage.

“y/n..” he trailed off. you acted as if you hadn’t heard him though, focusing on unpacking your bags.

“y/n!” jake called out. his head had been pounding with dehydration now. he wasn’t sure if he was yelling or whispering. the sudden change in behavior had you turning around entirely as you flinched.

“please, baby girl. y/n. can’t we just talk?” he begged. jake watched as you stood up from the ground, before following you as you walked passed him, across the room.

“whats there to talk about? i thought i nagged you so much to the point you ‘wanted to kill yourself’.” you quoted back to your previous argument that caused this distance between you.

jake grabbed you by your arm, forcefully turning you around so you could face him. but when he finally met your gaze, he took note of your glossy eyes, realizing the amount of tears you were holding back.

“jakey. all those things you said were unbelievable, and incredibly hurtful, jake. you can’t just expect me to forgive you. i just.. need more time.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead in frustration as you plopped down onto the bed.

“even more time then this last month?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

“yes jake! even more time than that! you don’t understand how much damage you really did to me. i came here with a heavy heart, not even sure if i wanted to be around you. but when i heard from your friends how poorly you were taking care of yourself, i couldn’t just leave you.” you sniffled.

jake reached up to wipe your tears, but you slapped his arm away, moving to wipe your cheek with the back of your hand.

he gave you your space, watching you scoot further away so you had easier access to the tissue box on the floor. the moment was still before he finally spoke up again.

"i'm not asking for forgiveness, im asking you to hear me out. please, my angel girl. im begging you. i want you to know how sorry i am." jake's eyes too began to water.

he watched your face as you hesitated to let the words out, before you finally moved back closer towards him.

"okay. we can talk." you whisper, before grabbing your forgotten pillow off the floor.

“i was just.. so filled with stress, and anger. between failing so many classes, grades dropping, and coach saying i had terrible performance in the last few games, i wasn’t sure if what to do.” jake paused, watching to see if you were paying attention. you nodded in response, gesturing for him to continue.

“i guess i’m just saying i wasn’t able to handle the stress of a relationship back then. if i couldn’t be happy, i had no idea how to make you happy. and i was mad at myself for disappointing you. mad at you for being disappointed in me. everything just kinda came out in the moment. whether you heard it or not, i felt so guilty for saying something i didn’t mean to say.” he sighed.

“oh, my poor jake,” you pouted, moving to rest your head on his shoulder. “baby, if you were going through all of this, you should’ve told me. i know you hate to talk but there aren’t things you can go through alone. and sure, i may have been upset with you for forgetting or missing dates and not communicating, but never disappointed. never ever was i disappointed in you.”

“i guess i should work on that. i just hate confrontation.” he sighed. the two of you chuckled in unison. “it’s okay, i’ll help you out. baby steps, my love.”

“i’m just so scared of hurting you again,” jake started once more. “you’re just so fragile, so delicate to me, you know? i hate the thought of putting you through all that shit again. because i love you. so i want to be more open with you.”

you were glad jake wanted to change for the better, and for you. but you couldn’t lie when you said your stomach dropped a little at the thought of all that he said. but in the long duration you spent apart, it’s clear he’d been thinking about what he wanted to say. he had matured. jake reassured you it won’t happen again, and that’s all you needed. his reassurance.

jake pulls you down, so that the two of you are lying flat on the soft bed. you attempt to sit up, only to be brought back down as jake took your pillow out your hands.

“let me go cook something for us baby.” you hum as he began to pepper kisses all across your cheeks, your forehead, and jawline.

but jake only held you tighter, pulling you closer toward his now warm body (if even possible). “just stay with me mama. you’ve been gone for so long and you already want to leave.” he whined. you chuckle in response, before finally meeting him halfway and pressing a kiss on his plump, dry lips.

"you still have my pillow." you raise a brow.

jake sat up slightly, to throw your pillow across the room. "you don't need it. you have me." he replied, before leaning back down so he could bring your head to lay on his chest.

you smile as you felt his heartbeat begin to beat faster. you were home, and all was forgiven for now. that’s all that mattered.

maybe dinner could wait.

networks ! @en-diaries

taglist ! @pinksweetlittlepiano @yunjica @sunshine-skz @stormy1408 @gardenwons @hellokiittylexii @ivyvioletcarson @river-demon-slayer @blvengene @strawberrynull @maiteeeeesstuff @firstclassjaylee @mersmoon

[lunajay33]

It’s You❤️‍🔥

Summary: You went along with Bella to Italy to save Edward, but when you get there things go unexpectedly and you become mate to the strongest Volturi guard

Pairing: Felix x human female reader

•Masterlist•

Moving into your uncles house a year ago to help him with daily chores and just keeping him company was a nice change from the hot dry weather I was use to when I lived with my mom before she passed, another reason Charlie had to take me in which I was incredibly grateful for, then a few months after I moved in my cousin Bella moved back from Arizona and she became very secretive, I swear some nights I’d hear two voices coming through our shared wall, whenever I tried to question her about it but she’d always brush me off just saying she was up late talking to her mom on the phone

Eventually I got fed up with all the secrets and the way she was treating me like I wasn’t even in her life, so on a rare sunny day I decided to go over to the cullens house, basically Bella’s second home, I pulled up into the drive way amazed by how gorgeous this house was, sure Carlisle was a doctor but this had to be old money to get a house like this around this area

I got out of my old car and knocked three times against the door, after a while and a few faint angry whispers Bella finally opened the door which I find odd since this isn’t her house

“Y/n what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here”

“I’ve had enough of the secrets and how you’ve treated me, we’re family Bella and I’m alone here I just want to be close again like we were as kids”

“Well we’re not kids anymore y/n I have my own life” she said a hint of anger laced with worry in her voice

“I’m not asking for your attention 24/7 I just want a friend” I said upset as I fiddled with my fingers

“Okay im sorry im just stressed, ill make a better effort”

And after that we spent a bit more time together, then Edward left, him and his whole family just up and left leaving Bella in a deep despair, her sorrowful shrieking screams at night draining me and Charlie, and the worst was I didn’t know how to help, I tried getting her out of the house or even just sitting in the living room with her to keep her company but I could still see how broken she was

After months and her seeing Jacob she slowly started to get better, one night I was up in my room reading when a commotion broke out downstairs, I ran down seeing Bella, Jake and Alice arguing in the kitchen

“What the hell is going on?” But before anyone answered Alice spoke

“Bella it’s Edward, Rosalie told him why I came, he thinks he’s dead, he wants to die too” everything was moving so fast, Bella and Alice were running out to her car and I was still in the dark with everything

“Bella what’s going on you’re scaring me” I said looking through the car window

“I can’t explain I have to go”

“Well you’re not going without me, I’ve stuck with you through this and I’m not leaving now” I said matter of factly hopping in the back, Alice gave Bella a wary look before she speed off to the airport, having no clue where we were going until we landed, when Alice finally told me we were in Italy, the scenery zooming past as she drove through town after town until we came upon a old castle town, swerving through a crowd all dressed in robes, Bella went running off and Alice found somewhere to park as we too started making our way through the crowd on foot now

“Alice you still haven’t told me what’s going on” she gave me a gentle smile as we came upon the castle

“You’ll find out soon enough, all I can say is that your life is about to change” her words sent nervous butterflies fluttering in my belly

With what must have been a surge of adrenaline Alice broke the lock on the castle door and we entered feeling the cold air breeze over me, cooling me down from the hot Italian heat

Seeing Edward with Bella and he looked dreadful and just behind them a shorter blonde man with piercing ruby red eyes, accompanied by a very tall man and as my eyes gazed over his body from his feet all the way up to his eyes my world stopped, I felt this pull to him like I’ve never felt before, a man I don’t know had this hold on me that I never wanted to get out of, our eyes never looking away from eachother until a smaller girl broke our trance

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long”

“I won’t be needing your assistance anymore”

“Never the less aro would like a word”

Alice squeezed my shoulder reassuringly as we all followed the blonde girl into a now crammed elevator, with the lack of space my back was pressed up against the tall beautiful man with the ruby eyes

As my adrenaline finally faded away I was left with the realization that I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into, Alice’s super strength, the ruby eyes of the strangers around me, the secrecy , it was finally scaring me feeling my heart beat so hard I could hear it and if on air a big hand gently rubbed up and down my back slowly settling my nerves, normally having a strange man touch me would have me running for the hills but there was just something about this ethereal man that I don’t even know the name of, that soothed my soul, like nothing bad could ever happen as long as I’m by his side

The elevator stopped with a ding, opening to reveal a long stone hallway with torches perched on the walls, giving a very eerie vibe to the whole situation, his hand still on my lower back leading me in the direction everyone else was walking til we got to these big doors that his touch went away making me whine for some reason

The little blonde girl pushed open the huge doors effortlessly to show a gorgeous marble room with three thrones with three men sat upon them

“Sister they send you out for two and you come back with two and a two half’s” a younger guy said as the blonde girl went and stood by his side

“Ahhhh Bella is alive fantastic” on of the three men stated standing infront of us

“And who is this?” He said glancing at me with those similar ruby eyes

“It seems one of our family has found their mate” the other glum man said

“What? Mate? What do you mean? Please just someone tell me what is happening” I asked overwhelmed as my bottom lip wobbled

“Oh dear…..may I?” The enthusiastic man asked as he held out his hand

Confused but I placed mine in his as he stared deep into my eyes

“It seems this beautiful girl doesn’t know a thing about us, she merely came to support her cousin”

“Felix how about you take her to your room and explain everything as we deal with this situation here”

“Yes master” his hand was on my back again as he led me out of the room back into the hallway

“Felix…..I like that name” his name sounded nice, sounded right, he looked down at me with the most loving look I could have ever seen

“And what might your name be mio amore?”

“Y/n…I’m y/n”

“Beautiful, a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl” I’ve never been treated like this before and it had my heart soaring

Finally we made it to a wonderful spacious room, the ceiling high, brown stone walls with red and black accent decor, with a glamorous bed in the corner with red silk sheets

“Sit my darling” he said gesturing to the bed so we sat face to face, he gently took my hands in his like I was made of glass

“What did he mean? Am I your mate? And what does that mean?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out but……we are vampires and so are the cullens, vampires have mates and some of us are lucky enough to find them, we’d do anything for our mates like I’ll do anything for you, to make you happy and safe”

His words had me frozen……vampires were real? And I’m mated to one, a gorgeous one at that but still this was all so much

“This…..this is a lot to handle Felix, I mean this is all so new to me I’ve never had a relationship before and definitely not with a vampire, sure you’re extremely handsome but I still don’t know what to do” his smile softened then slowly turned into a smirk

“You think I’m handsome little one?” He asked tucking a strand of hair behind my ear making the blood rush to my cheeks

“Of course anyone with eyes can see that”

“You never have to be worried with me, we can take this slowly, I’ve waited forever for you amore, I can wait a little longer until you’re comfortable” his hand caressing my cheek

I felt more relaxed at his words

“So what now? Do I have to go back to forks? If I do we will never see eachother” my heart clenched at the thought

“If your heart desires you can stay here, but only if that’s what you want, because I know my heart couldn’t handle us being apart, but it’s whatever you want tessoro”

“I……I want to be with you Felix, please”

“Then you will stay with my little one” I had the answer to Alice’s words, my life was going to change but all for the better

Comment if you wanna be tagged in this series❤️

Part.2

[egglain]

HIIIII!! omg I LOved ur Letters to Santa!!! Also all of the dickcember prompts are so good??? Thoughts on day 12 Partridge in a Pear Tree with sukuna (or honestly ANYONE) and reader has a gift for him...reader has been wearing a cute little plug all day getting ready to surprise him!!

This was just a blurb so if you had smth else in mind I'D STILL LOVVE

HAVE SUCH AN AMAZING DAY!!

… And A Partridge In A Pear Tree!

Rating: E (18+) - mdni Pairing: Modern! Sukuna x GN! reader Content: dickcember day 12 - anal, unshaven, gift-giving; fluff & smut, belly bulging, first times

thank you so much for this request! if there’s a prompt + character you want to see next, requests are open! send an ask :)

Your boyfriend, Sukuna, was hard to surprise.

Not in the he has everything way, like Gojo. No, Sukuna was not very fixated on material things. Not in the don’t know what to get him way either, though that was true.

Sukuna just wasn’t prone to feeling surprise.

He was like a bear trap; open, constantly lying in wait for something to snap at. This spring-trap way of living meant it was nearly impossible to ever catch him off-guard.

But today, you were going to do it.

You were going to surprise him.

It was the winter season, which meant many things for couples around the globe. Arguably the most important, it was the season of gift-giving; of showing your loved ones just how much they meant to you.

You and Sukuna had been going out for almost a year now– molded to each other's routines, intimately familiar with how your lives fit together.

It was December 12th; not a particularly special day on the calendar by any means. 

Which is why it was the perfect date for a sneak attack.

On the bus home, you couldn’t help but fidget next to your big boyfriend.

It was a beautiful day outside. Outside the big windows, bright skies sprinkled perfect little snowflakes onto the earth, painting the world in pristine white. All was still; much of the city was tucked away at home, as you soon would be. As you were supposed to be– that was, if you didn’t have to go shopping with your burly boyfriend for his coworkers.

You didn’t mind it though. Wrapping a wool-clad arm around Sukuna’s big one, leaning your head on his shoulder, you felt peaceful just the same.

“What are we looking for again?”

“Airbrush paints.” Your big boyfriend looked down at you, lips quirking into a soft grin. “Forget already? Why’d I bring you along again?”

“‘Cause you love me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the scrunch of his nose. “Yeah, yeah. Deny it all you want but I know you, Ryomen. Who’s the paint for anyways?”

“Suguru. He wants to design a piece for his boyfriend but the guy’s terrified of needles. They compromised on airbrushing shit on, I guess.”

You hummed. It sounded nice to share a love that understood– that didn’t demand or compromise, but that found a third way. One where no one got hurt.

“And what’re you getting for Choso?”

“I have to get something for him?”

You elbowed Sukuna between the ribs, and the pretty noise he made– the bark of a laugh– made it worth it.

“Fuck– you’re a bony little shit, y’know that?” Sukuna looked down at you with amusement, shaking his head.

Few would mess with a guy like him. Easily a head and a half taller than you, wide as a fucking door, tattooed from head to toe; he looked like a criminal. And quite frankly, he acted the part, too.

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“Yeah, whatever. I got somethin’ for Kamo months ago.”

“Piercing stuff?”

“Oh– no. Those ancestry tracking kits that steal your DNA for nefarious purposes. He wants to take one.”

Weird gift, but whatever made him happy.

As much as Sukuna would never admit it, his coworkers were a lot more to him than just that. The guys at the shop had become a little family. Making them happy made your boyfriend happy.

So you let him drag you around town in search of the best, only stopping to subtly readjust a few times.

Your boyfriend– your thoughtful, lovely, intelligent boyfriend– had no clue what he was in for.

Beneath the warm layers of wool and fleece, you were dripping.

A fat metal plug, about 3 inches long, sat snug inside your ass. A pretty pink gem– the same soft colour as your boyfriend’s hair– was cozily nuzzled between the mounds of your ass.

You had never done this before.

Your tush was off-limits, as much as it pained Sukuna to see such a tight hole go to waste.

Your boyfriend was a creature of possession, of marking and territory and he was never satisfied until he was sure his claim was clear.

He had been yearning for a taste of your ass since you first took your pants off; desperate to fuck you open on his fat cock, to mold you to the shape of his dick, leave you so far gaped you could never erase his mark. He wanted to pump you full, watch his seed fill that hole before flipping you around and doing the same for your mouth, until you smelled and tasted like him all over.

But it was always a no. 

Until today.

You were going to surprise your boyfriend.

After a long day of bus rides, shopping carts, and paint swatches, you finally kicked your snowy boots off.

“Gonna bathe,” Sukuna grunted, dropping the bags by the door.

You took off your coat, hanging it up before rubbing your frozen hands together. Fuck, it was frigid out.

Your boyfriend padded to the stairs, pausing on the second step. “You coming, or what?” 

Heat flooded your navel, warming your core and sending delicious sparks to where you were full.

You rushed to catch up with him, letting Sukuna pull you upstairs to the bathroom. He made quick work of plugging the drain and turning on the hot water, even as you draped yourself over his back to kiss at his nape.

With a grunt, he stood, shaking you off as he removed his shirt unceremoniously.

Your cold fingers itched to feel on him; those plush pecs were always a hundred degrees, and nothing sounded better at the moment than two handfuls of tit and a nice defrosting.

A white shirt flew at you, whipping your side playfully.

“Don’t even fucking think about it, brat.”

You pouted.

He didn’t budge, keeping his distance as he dropped his sweats and boxers.

Even soft, he was huge.

Fuck.

The plug shifted minutely inside you as you clenched and unclenched around it.

Sukuna made a point of staying out of reach as he rummaged in the spacious bathroom for things to put in the tub– those fizzy balls, the sud-making stuff, the salt– you had trained him well. He put products on the lip of the tub, testing the temperature of the water on the inside of his wrist. All the while, he paid you no mind.

Well, two could play that game.

You slipped out of your shirt, making quick work of your underlayers, before sliding off your bottoms. Turned away from him, you were sure to make a little noise as you slid off your underwear, bent to show off the pretty gem between your cheeks.

It took one– two– three look-backs for the image to click in Sukuna’s head.

You had never seen him move faster.

Hands were on your flesh before you could process what was happening.

Knelt behind you, your boyfriend's hands pried your asscheeks apart, practically nosing at the plug inside you.

“Fuck.”

Your partner was by no means expressive or good with his words– but this?

You could hear a pin drop as he stared, flesh of your bottom heating under his intense gaze.

You snuck a look back, shaking your ass in his face just a little.

If Sukuna was any less hypnotized, he would’ve given you a nice spanking for being a tease.

But now, almost mouth to mouth with your sweet hole, he couldn’t do anything but breathe heavily through his nose.

If he didn’t focus on breathing, he was certain he’d pass away on the spot.

“You like?”

If his blown pupils weren’t enough of an indication, his cock– now half-mast and quickly filling– told you all you needed to know.

“Wanna take it out?”

Sukuna swallowed, throat like sandpaper as he nodded.

Thick fingers gripped at the polished edges of the metal plug, giving a slow tug.

You were tight.

As fuck.

As his fingers stilled, the plug slipped right back in, eliciting a little whine.

From who? Sukuna couldn’t tell.

“Harder, ‘kuna– you won’t break me.” You braced yourself on the marble counter, bent and arched.

With a more forceful tug, the plug slipped out all at once, leaving your pretty hole fluttering around nothing.

Wet warmth flooded your ass.

“Sukuna!”

You jumped, flinching forward to escape his tongue.

Big hot hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his face.

“Haven’t shaved… don’t do that–”

“Don’t care.” It was muffled, tongue working deep inside your tight hole. 

Fingertips dug into the meat of your ass as he feasted, devouring the copious amount of sweet lubricant inside you. 

Replacing it with his mark; his thick spit.

You groaned, head dropping onto the counter as your neglected front got wetter.

Just as quickly as it started, he was pulling away.

“Bath time?” You blinked, trying to still the spinning of your head as you looked back at your boyfriend.

Sukuna had never looked so fucked.

His cheeks were a vibrant rose, matching the flush of his dripping cock. A cock he was furiously fisting as he stood.

Sukuna’s blunt tip prodded at your hole, which graciously parted at the prospect of something fat to fill it right back up.

“Fuuuuuck.”

Sukuna rocked forward slowly, girthy cock stretching you deliciously. The ache shot through your body, nipples hardening and mouth parting at the feel.

A cry– high and whiny– escaped your big boyfriend’s throat.

You did it.

You finally broke him.

Plush arms wrapped snug around your waist as Sukuna draped himself over your back, fucking into your ass unforgivingly. He punched the air out of your lungs with each thrust, tip bullying your insides in a way that had you dripping all over the floor.

“Fuck– tight. So fucking tight.” Although it was pressed up against your ear, he was talking to himself, all growled nonsense. “Need this ass. Need to mark this fuckhole so fucking good.”

You pressed back against him, grinding on his veiny cock as he worked it deep in your tummy. One big hand smacked against the meat of your rump, prying open your cheeks to seat himself further inside.

With an iron grip on the fat of your bottom (one that was sure to leave finger-shaped bruises the next morning), he rammed into you. His leaking head prodded at your insides in a way that had your stomach bulging with each thrust– something he ran a possessive hand over, putting pressure on your lower abdomen.

Each hump had stars exploding behind closed eyelids, toes curling against the cold bathroom tile as he practically lifted you onto the counter with his forceful movements.

The coil between your legs wound, thighs tensing as Sukuna nibbled at your earlobe; you knew it was taking everything in him to not bear into your shoulder, to not draw blood.

“Gonna stuff you so fucking full.”

Whether it was the grunted way he said it or the way he ground deep inside, you were cumming. Your release, fucked out from between trembling thighs, splattered all over the white bathroom tile.

The way you bore down on him had Sukuna tumbling off the precipice right after you. The rocking of his pretty dick stuttered as thick milky cum flooded your hole. He fucked it into you shallowly, rubbing the tip of his cock over the smooth flesh of your tummy.

You had never felt so warm.

So much for freezing over.

Oh, fuck– the bath.

“Sukuna!”

Your boyfriend, pliant against your back, could only murmur praises into your neck as you squirmed.

“The water!”

“Fuck the bath.”

“You came inside– I gotta–”

“Don’t gotta do nothing. You’re perfect.”

In the end, with a little wrangling and some praise, you managed to wrestle Ryomen Sukuna into the bath.

Big hands massaged the tense muscle of your shoulders, then down your arms, as warm bubblegum pink water pooled around your bodies. Resting back onto his firm chest, you allowed your eyes to shut, groaning happily as he worked out a knot with practiced fingertips.

Gentle lips pressed a feather-soft kiss to the top of your head, then the side of your neck.

“Thank you…”

It was soft, barely there– but in the otherwise silent bathroom, it was clear as day.

“I love you.”

Your boyfriend was hard to surprise.

But he always managed to surprise you.

banners by @strangergraphics!

[signofspeed]

Hi love! I was wondering you’d be able to write a Lando fix where his gf got her period early and she’s really not feeling well so he’s super worried… definitely not inspired by a recent personal experience lmao :))

──── ⭑

The sun was dipping below the horizon when Lando let himself into the apartment, the comforting click of the door signaling his return. Normally, the space felt alive when he came home—your presence a quiet but palpable energy that greeted him like warmth on a cold day. Today, though, something was missing.

He set down the groceries, frowning slightly. The stillness in the air made his chest tighten. Your slippers were by the door, your jacket tossed over the back of a chair, but the usual sounds—music playing softly, or even the occasional clatter from the kitchen—weren’t there.

“Love?” he called out, his voice breaking the silence as he slipped off his shoes.

There was no response.

He found you in the bedroom, curled up beneath the duvet, your knees tucked to your chest. The dim light of the bedside lamp illuminated your face, pale and drawn, your usually bright eyes dull and half-lidded. The sight stopped him in his tracks.

“Hey,” he said softly, his worry sharpening as he approached the bed. He crouched down by the side, studying your face. “You okay?”

You blinked slowly, trying to focus on him, but even that small movement seemed to drain your energy. “It’s just my period,” you murmured, your voice scratchy and quiet.

“Your period?” His brow furrowed. “It’s not supposed to hurt this much, is it?”

You gave him a weak shrug, your face contorting as another wave of cramps hit you. “Sometimes it does. It just… came early, and I wasn’t ready for it.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting to the tension in your curled frame, the way your hands pressed against your stomach like you were trying to hold yourself together.

“Stay here,” he said finally, his voice calm but firm.

He disappeared into the bathroom, rummaging through cabinets until he found the heating pad he vaguely remembered buying with you months ago. Plugging it in by the bed, he slid it under the covers and positioned it against your stomach. The warmth began to seep into your skin almost immediately, and a small sigh escaped your lips.

“Better?” he asked quietly, sitting down beside you.

You nodded, a hint of relief easing your features. “A bit. Thanks.”

But he wasn’t done. He slipped out of the room again, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water and a packet of painkillers. “Here,” he said, holding them out to you.

You hesitated, your fingers brushing against his as you took them. “You don’t have to fuss, Lando,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not fussing,” he replied, his tone light but steady. “I just hate seeing you like this.”

You took the medicine, the water cooling your parched throat. He sat beside you while you drank, his hand finding yours under the covers. His thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles, a quiet reassurance that he was there.

“I’m going to make you something to eat,” he said after a while, standing up.

“Lando—”

“Don’t argue,” he interrupted gently. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”

You shook your head. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before heading to the kitchen.

The scent of soup wafted through the apartment soon after, the quiet clink of dishes oddly soothing in your haze. When he returned, he carried a tray with a steaming bowl, a mug of tea, and a small plate of crackers.

“You’re spoiling me,” you murmured, managing a faint smile as he set the tray down and helped you sit up against the pillows.

“Not spoiling,” he said, settling beside you and watching as you took a tentative sip of the soup. “Just taking care of you.”

You leaned against him after you finished, the warmth of his body a comfort that rivaled the heating pad. He shifted slightly, adjusting the blankets around you.

“Better?” he asked again, his voice soft.

You nodded, your head resting on his shoulder. “Much.”

He didn’t say anything, but his hand found yours again, holding it firmly, as if to remind you he wasn’t going anywhere.

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) little white lie !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [mark x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.8k w. cursing, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

this christmas you were undoubtedly, royally fucked.

it had all started very innocently, a white lie to get your family off your back once and for all. but then it snowballed to create one big, ugly snowman to personally hunt you all through winter. it was because of him that you chewed at your nails nervously as you looked at the text that reflected on your screen, your cousin’s name adorning the top of the chat.

you should invite your bf to go christmas shopping with us! i'm sure k will be happy to have someone to talk to :)

fuck.

the text was nothing but friendly and well intended, there was just one tiny little problem. you did not have a boyfriend to invite. you tried to come up with an excuse, but you had unfortunately used every single valid thing that you could’ve thought of to get your nonexistent boyfriend off of all the family activities he was invited to.

“what are you making your fingers bleed for?” mark, your best friend, asked as he approached your body on the couch, holding two mugs of tea. once he placed them on the coffee table, he reached for your hand and moved it from your lips down to your lap as he always did to prevent you from harming yourself. 

“my cousin wants me to invite my boyfriend to celebrate christmas with my family” you groaned, your hands going up to rub at your eyes in frustration. 

mark’s eyebrows furrowed as he heard you speak “what boyfriend?”

and that’s when it downed on you, the fact that you had never told mark about your little white lie. you thought of ways to avoid the question, wracking your brain to find something to say other than “you actually, i've been lying to my family for months to get them off my back and they think you’re my very beloved and devoted boyfriend.” but you knew he wouldn’t leave it alone until he knew the truth, also, you had never been able to lie to mark.

“you” you muttered, face still behind your hands as you tried to pretend this wasn’t happening.

“huh?” mark asked incredulously, causing you to look from in between your fingers at his dumbfounded expression “come again?”

you took a deep breath before speaking again, finally moving your hands down and meeting his eyes. “a few months ago, at seollal i told my family i had a boyfriend because they wouldn’t stop pestering me about it and when they asked me who it was i couldn’t think of any other name but yours” 

mark ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the knowledge that his name was the first one to pop into your head when you had to make up a fake boyfriend, looking at you with wide eyes “dude! that's like almost a year ago! why didn't you tell me?”

“i know! but it wasn’t supposed to last this long or be this important, you had no reason to know” you explained, notably stressed as you ran a hand through your hair “i’m sorry, okay?”

“what on earth are you sorry about?” he questioned, even more confused than before.

“i shouldn’t have used you like that” you muttered, your voice sounding way softer than before as you looked down to your hands, beginning to pick at the skin again.

mark’s heart shrinked about three sizes as he watched you, feeling guilty for making you think he was mad about that. “i’m not mad at you” he reassured, taking your hand in his to make you stop your nervous reaction. “i’m just saying that if you had told me i could’ve helped you”

you lifted your eyes to stare into his, eyebrows furrowing slightly “help me how?”

“i don’t know, i could’ve acted like your boyfriend or something,” he shrugged, smiling now that your eyes had found his.

“you would do that?” you asked, your lips forming a smile instinctively at the sight of his own.

“of course i would, bro” he squeezed your hands softly before letting go of them, trying his hardest not to show how difficult it was for him to let go. 

“would you want to come christmas shopping with my cousin and her boyfriend, then? if we go to that she can confirm you’re real and prevent my parents from sending me into a psych ward for making up a guy” you chuckled softly, a little nervous. 

“for sure, i wouldn’t want my best friend to be sent away like that” he joked and bumped your shoulder with no strength. “just let me know when and i’ll even pick you up”

“she said on the 17th” you couldn’t contain your smile as you jumped forward, enveloping him in your arms “thank you so much, markie”

the boy prayed that you couldn’t feel the way his heart was racing at the contact. even when you were always a touchy person, he couldn’t help but get flustered whenever your body came in contact with his. “of course, ynnie.”

…

“okay, let's discuss boundaries” you spoke as you got into his car. the day of your first mission (as he liked to call it) had finally arrived, and he had picked you up just as he had promised. “we need to make it realistic, but i don’t want you to be uncomfortable so i think no kissing is obvious” you presented as he began driving.

“sure, yeah” he agreed, deciding that telling you that kissing you would not make him uncomfortable at all would be a little weird.

“anything you want to add?” you asked as you looked at his side profile, a smile on your lips as you stared at him.

“nah, we’re good” he looked at you for a second before turning back to the road.

the rest of the drive was filled with laughter and chaos as always, you two only settling down when he parked the car at the entrance of the mall. you looked around for a few seconds until you found your cousin and her boyfriend standing by their car. 

“okay, they’re over there” you pointed out “ready, boyfie?” you asked with a humorous tone lingering in your voice.

“so ready, sweetheart” he smiled and got out of the car, moving quickly to open your door for you. you smiled and rolled your eyes in amusement at how hard he was trying before beginning to walk towards your cousin. 

you greeted her excitedly, then moved on to greet her boyfriend. you had known him for years, and were quite friendly with him. “guys, this is mark, my boyfriend” you smiled as you introduced them.

mark almost screamed at how being introduced as your boyfriend made him feel, even if it was fake “hey guys, nice to meet you” he smiled as he extended his hand towards the girl, shaking it politely.

time passed as you walked around the mall, your attention mostly on your cousin as you caught up after too long of not seeing each other, your respective ‘boyfriends’ walking a little behind as they carried your bags.

“she talks about you a lot, you know” yudai said as he caught mark looking at you adoringly, taking advantage of how you couldn’t see him.

“she does?” mark asked, tearing his eyes away from the back of your neck to look at the man walking next to him.

he nodded at his question, smiling at how the younger boy seemed so excited to know his girlfriend talked about him. “she always goes on about how much you take care of her and how funny you are, you make her really happy.” and right then and there, mark knew he made a horrible mistake when he said he would help you. there was no way his heart would come out untouched.

before he could open his mouth to answer, you stopped walking and settled by his side “what are you two talking about?”

“nothing, don’t worry about it,” mark smiled, hugging your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. the action took you by surprise, but you settled on his side anyways.

… 

“my parents want to meet you,” you told mark as you sat in front of him in a restaurant you had gone to for lunch. “they got jealous because my cousin met you first.”

mark chuckled softly as he finished eating, shaking his head at the comment “and when are we supposed to meet them?”

“we could go to their house for dinner today, get it over with so you don’t have to keep pretending anymore, if you’re okay with missing hyucks contest, of course.” you shrugged, trying to act disinterested as you tried to figure out why those words didn’t sit right with you.

“uhm, yeah sure” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes like it always did.

“everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “we don’t have to miss it if you don’t want to”

“no, it’s okay, i’m just kinda nervous to meet your parents” he shrugged, attempting to not show the disappointment it caused him to think of your whole charade being over.

“don’t worry, markie, they’ll love you” you gave him a reassuring smile and suddenly all the negative feelings left his mind.

a couple hours later, mark stood next to you in front of your parent’s door, extremely nervous. it didn’t matter to him that he wasn’t your actual boyfriend, he really wanted your parents to like him.

“It's okay, they’ll believe the whole thing” you attempted to reassure him, only making him worse at the reminder that you had no reason to be nervous. you were planning the fake break up already anyways. his thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of fingers tangling with his “they’ll love you.”

and the way your eyes looked at him with such sureness that he couldn’t help to feel like everything would be okay as long as you stood by his side. 

he waited for you to let go of his hand as the door opened, but it never happened. he squeezed it softly as he greeted your parents, making sure to shake their hands with his free one, wanting to hold on for as long as he could.

the night flowed perfectly as your parents practically fell in love with the boy you had brought home. it was weird, really, to be sitting there as mark told them a story about how he got lost at a mirror maze once and ended up at the hospital. he looked so pretty, smiling away as he used his abilities to charm your parents.

but you couldn’t be thinking of that, because it was all fake. he was just doing you a favor, and you couldn’t forget that for a single second or it would be bad.

“anyways, your daughter here made fun of me for about three months straight” he said, swooping your hands to lace his fingers with yours.

“i took care of you, though,” you retorted, laughing softly as you tried to defend yourself.

“true, you did,” he smiled as he brought your hands to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back of yours before diving right back into his conversation.

damn, he was a really good actor.

“you should come to christmas dinner this year” your father suggested as the four of you stood on the doorway.

“i don’t know if he can, dad, he has plans already” you said “right?” you looked at mark, silently hoping that for some miraculous reason he would say no.

“i do” of course “but i’ll gladly cancel them if you want me to be here.” oh?

you looked at him with confusion written all over your face. was he really willing to cancel his plans to play pretend boyfriend with you in christmas?

“let’s talk about it later, yeah?” you asked, looking at him breathlessly. had he always looked at you like he would be willing to give you his world on a silver platter?

the boy nodded before turning back to your parents, greeting them politely before you walked towards his car. the ride back to your apartment was silent, the only sound coming from the radio.

“you don’t have to come, you already canceled on your friends today” you said, voice barely above a whisper as you broke the silence.

“i don’t mind, i’ve spent every christmas with them since i was fifteen.” he mumbled back, afraid to speak too loud in the ambiance you had created. 

“and you would rather break that streak to be with my family?” you questioned, your heart racing slightly at how soft his voice was.

“i would rather break it to spend it with you.” he retorted, and you felt your heart miss a couple of beats as he pulled into the driveway.

“i’ll see you on the twenty fourth, then” you smiled, doing little to hide how endeared you were to his words.

“i’ll pick you up, sweetheart.” he smiled back, nearly making you giggle as you got out of the car.

…

it was finally christmas day, and mark was terrified as he waited for you to walk out of your apartment building so he could drive you both to your parents’ house where he would meet your entire family as your (fake) boyfriend.

“oh, wow” he muttered as he finally saw you. the cozy winter outfit you wore nearly made him faint “you look beautiful”

you bit your flustered smile back as you looked him up and down, taking in how handsome he looked. “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he thanked you before opening your car door for you, something he had picked up on those last few weeks of pretend dating, allowing himself to look at you for a couple more seconds before closing the door.

“i have to say, with the amount of gossip i’ve heard about your family, i think i'm extremely prepared for tonight” he bragged as he drove towards your destination.

“shut up and drive,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

the night had gone by better than you expected. your entire family was mesmerized by the boy, and you couldn't help the pride that made your chest swell at the sight of him laughing with your uncles on the other side of the room.

“you really were whipped, aren’t you?” your younger cousin asked as he sat down next to you.

you looked at mark for a couple more seconds before tearing your eyes away from him “yeah” you said, almost breathlessly “i am”

the boy made a disgusted expression, eliciting a soft giggle to tumble past your lips. “he is too, he told me”

wait, what?

“he did?” you asked, unable to hide the surprise that coated your voice. 

“yeah, why are you surprised?” the boy judged “haven’t you been dating for like a year?”

“yes, it’s just a little surprising still” you chuckled awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“it shouldn’t be, look at how he looks at you” he pointed towards mark, making you look his way. your eyes caught his immediately, betraying the secrecy of his loving stare.

your breath hitched on your throat as mark didn’t look away from you. “sorry, i´ll be back in a minute” you muttered before standing up and walking towards mark. “mind if i steal him for a minute, thanks” you smiled as you grabbed his hand and dragged him away to an empty hall.

“hey, ynnie, whats up?” he asked as you stood in front of him. there was a lovesick smile adorning his face, along with a look you recognized from the night he met your parents.

“maki told me you told him you're whipped for me” you blurted out, and mark’s smile only widened.

“i did” he assured.

“because it would reveal our act if you didn’t” you stated, more for yourself than for him.

“or because i am” he commented, a hand coming up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“what?” you asked, astonished at the words that had just left his mouth.

“look up for me really quick, will you?” he asked, his voice sounding like honey and only confusing you further. you still looked up, heart stopping at the sight of a mistletoe hanging right on top of you.

you looked back at mark, at his beautiful eyes and his even more beautiful smile and you just couldn’t take it anymore. your hands found place behind his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, joining your lips together in a kiss you both had waited a little too long for.

mark’s hands made their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he felt relief all through his body.

there was no way this was fake.

★ blue's corner ;; i couldn't make a series and not put mark in it, we all know this. this is part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

© peterm4rker, 2024

[girlokwhatever]

✵✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩⊹ ⋆｡˚⋆ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part one ; beginning of the end

next part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

you didn’t care when you found out your ex got a new girlfriend. you were completely over her and her antics, realizing in the last few months of your relationship how utterly exhausting it was. it wasn’t until you found out that her new girlfriend was the girl she cheated on you with that you cared.

it was stupid really, the whole situation. your ex girlfriend, bianca, cheated on you whilst out at a party, you hadn’t gone, opting to instead watch one of paige’s home games with her team. you met paige your freshman year, instantly growing an inseparable bond with her. she was absolutely your closest friend, much to bianca’s disliking. you chopped it up to the fact that bianca wasn’t a fan of any of your friends and left it at that.

when bianca tried justifying her cheating on you because of your close relationship with paige, it took you off guard.

2 MONTHS AGO

you were waiting for your girlfriend to show up. your heart was racing and your breath uneven but honestly, it was long overdue. it had been months since you actually shared a happy moment with bianca, easily able to find more enjoyment in your friends.

you’d found out from a close friend that she had cheated on you at least once, maybe more. your friend spotted her at a party with a girl, kissing and grinding on each other. it was all making sense to you now. the way she was almost too close, too clingy. as if she was overcompensating for a mistake. a huge mistake.

“babe? what’s up?”

“why’d you fuck another girl at a party two weeks ago?”

she went silent, eyes wide with shock. her face spoke for her, affirming that what you thought to be true actually was. even though your relationship had been rocky, especially towards the end, it still broke your heart. she was your high school sweetheart. she even committed to uconn just for you.

it meant fuck all now.

“don’t act like you’re so innocent, princess.”

she doesn’t even try to deny it, immediately spitting back at you. you’re not even sure what she’s referring to, but it looks like she believes it.

“what are you talking about?”

“really?!” she scoffs, “don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about. i know about you and paige, how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back.”

“are you fucking dumb?! paige and i are just friends bianca! oh my god- even when you know you’ve done something wrong you can’t admit it.”

you were walking around the corner of the counter when she grabbed you hard. her aggressive behavior was nothing new, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. part of you was wishing it would work out, but a greater part of you was glad she’d finally pushed you over the edge.

“let go of me and get the hell out.”

“excuse me?!”

“i said, get the fuck out, and don’t fucking come back.”

PRESENT DAY

you, paige, and some of your mutual friends were out at your favorite bar. it was a friday night and none of you had anything better to do.

you’d done some rotations: drinking, dancing, singing, sitting down, dancing again, but now you were back to sitting. you took a seat next to paige and she was thankful for that, but you hardly acknowledged her.

after bianca’s excuse for cheating on you being your close relationship with paige, you had distanced yourself considerably. you stopped showing up randomly to her dorm and practices, stopped calling, and stopped asking to hang out too. paige knew you and bianca broke up and kept telling herself you were just trying to get over that. occasionally she’d reach out to ask you if you were doing okay, sometimes it’d take you more than a day to answer.

it hurt paige more than it should’ve and she knew that. for years, ever since she’d met you, she’s had feelings for you. even when she tried to avoid them, you were all she could think about. it was difficult considering you had a psycho girlfriend that you refused to let go of until recently. even now that you were single it was no use, not if you were going to treat her like she didn’t exist.

you hadn’t noticed bianca and her new girlfriend walk in, too enamored by the bubbles in your drink. paige noticed though, watching the way your ex’s eyes scanned the room. paige looked away before she got caught staring, settling her elbows back on the bar.

“have you been having a good night?” paige asked just to get some conversation flowing with you. she missed being so close to you, even if she knew she always wanted more. she’d rather settle for a friendship with you than have nothing at all.

“s’been good. might go home soon though,”

“want me to take you home princess?” it was a teasing nickname that she called you, an old inside joke. when bianca heard it she decided to start calling you that too unironically, completely unaware of the joke.

“i think-”

“princess.”

bianca’s voice cut through the atmosphere like a sharpened knife, offering a completely different tone than the way paige said it. her new girlfriend must’ve run off somewhere, seeing as it was only her that had approached you. she took the barstool next to you, sliding her chair to face you. she looks unimpressed and expectant, not surprised to see paige lingering by your side.

“i need to talk to you.”

“talk to your new girlfriend. y’know, the one you cheated on me with.”

“she’s not my girlfriend” —another toxic lie “i just want to talk to you.”

“no.”

“princess-”

“fuck you.” you seethe out a her, hoping it’s enough to keep her quiet. unfortunately though, it isn’t.

“don’t talk to me like that.”

you try avoiding bianca, turning to paige and muttering a quick ‘can we go.’ it’s difficult to hear you but she does, standing up and pushing her chair in. bianca loathes paige, always has. as soon as you met paige all you wanted to do was talk about her, hang out with her, study with her, and bianca couldn’t stand it.

“and you tried calling me dumb when i found out you two were hooking up behind my back,” she scoffs as if it’s obvious.

paige’s eyebrows knit in confusion, you never mentioned that part. paige doesn’t know what made bianca think that, but she secretly wishes there was some truth to it, as bad as it may be. even when doing something she knows is wrong, paige has never regretted a second spent with you.

you knew you were probably too drunk to make a decision this big. as soon as the thought popped into your head you favored it, wanting to get back at bianca for all she put you through. you didn’t even give it a second thought, your mouth running faster than any of your cognitive abilities at the moment.

“guess you were right, but hey— she treats me better than you ever did.”

both bianca and paige are shocked, completely taken aback by your statement. what were you getting at?

“so what- you’re dating now?”

“yep. thanks for helping me realize i could do so much better.”

before you have time to show your fleeting confidence and the fact that you just lied straight through your teeth, you grab paige’s hand and walk off. you’re honestly not sure how she’ll react or how you’ll move from here.

either of you say a word until you’re in the silent safety of her car. she turns to face you, a blank expression written across her face. it makes it difficult to figure out what’s going on in her mind. you wish you could tell, it’d probably make things easier. you can tell that she’s a bit flustered, but maybe that’s just because of how hot it was inside.

“paige?”

“yeah?”

“i know this is probably going to be a really weird question and maybe the question itself is too late because i’ve already dug us into this hole but i swear you don’t have to go through with it..”

“okay..”

“will you, um.. will you be my fake girlfriend?”

she’s conflicted, torn between her better judgement and overall feelings for you. her body surges with anger at the way bianca talked to you tonight. but her body also swells with pride and attraction after hearing you say those things about dating her, even if she knows it’s not real. she wants it to be real so desperately and she’s knows she’s already made up her mind without needing to think it through.

one hand is on the steering wheel and the other drags itself down her face, questioning internally if she’s really going to go through with this. her silence settles on you, panic rising as you realize maybe you’ve just ruined your friendship. or what was left of it.

“you can say no obviously-”

“i’ll do it.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟׂׂૢ

UMMM i’ll spell check this tmr

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

i kinda don’t.

THIS IS A SERIES YALL

[wearysparrows]

I (Almost) Shot You Down

Summary: A chance encounter with Sylus snowballs something much larger, and you're pushed even deeper into the depths of his world -- whether you like it or not.

Chapter 1: A pillar of Salt

After being forced on leave from the Hunter's Association, you try to find respite outside of the safety of your apartment. By chance, you see Sylus engaged with someone else. You nearly take his head for it -- but he gets his way, in the end.

CW (18+): Sylus/reader, no use of ' Y/N,' Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Guns, MC is chronically depressed and exhausted, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood and Violence, Drug Use, Gambling, Reader is MC, AFAB reader is implied but no pronouns are used

A/N: This is my long, ongoing work that is still being updated. There are many more chapters up on ao3, and I'm working on getting them to tumblr. They're also being edited and improved from their original postings, so if you've read it before, there may be some changes as I upload!

You had finally begrudgingly accepted a few days off from your work with the Hunter’s Association, at the behest of your primary care physician (citing your declining physical health), your boss (citing your declining work performance), and your work partner (citing your declining mental health). The aforementioned meddlers had teamed up in an effort to finally tear you away from hunting, and would not allow you to return, despite your valiant attempts at protest. Work was your escape – from yourself, from the reality of your life, from your relationships – and everything in between. Hunting never changed, and you only got better at it. 

Your blatant disregard for yourself had failed to continue to go unnoticed by those who cared about you, though. Now, here you were, sitting in your empty apartment with only the all encompassing silence to keep you company. Left alone with your thoughts. Again. You hadn’t bothered to kick the lights on. Only the sound of the heater clicking filled the otherwise empty air around you. Your mind went where it always did, then. That day. No bodies were ever recovered. You didn’t even have something to bury. Caleb’s dog tags had found their way into your hands at some point, and you gazed at them listlessly in your palm. You could still feel the heat from the residual fires of the explosion radiating off of the metal. The warmth of his hand in yours. It was all you had left to prove he ever really existed.

You desperately needed to get out of the house. Anything was better than being here, and perhaps you would accidentally run into some wanderers while the ghost of you made its way about Linkon city. Throwing yourself at hordes of wanderers was the only coping mechanism that had shown any signs of taking your mind off of things. Sort of. With this scheme in mind, you quickly dressed yourself in your usual, strapping your gun to your thigh, concealing its comforting weight under your coat. It wasn’t like you were on forced bedrest, so a walk wouldn’t hurt, right? You stashed Caleb’s tags in your nightstand drawer, returning them to their safe place. You imagined that someday, they’d burn a hole in that wood, and you’d come back to nothing at all.

You left your apartment with no particular aim in mind, being sure to lock the door behind you. The biometric lock shifted into place with a soft whirr behind you. You may have been utterly exhausted, but you were never complacent. The weather outside wasn’t ideal for a walk, and the wind buffeted your hair about your face, and bit at your skin, as if you were offending it with your mere presence outside. Your eyes watered, protesting the assaults by the air. You opted to ignore these sensations, and continued to walk in what you thought was the direction of the nearby shopping district. Your appetite had long since left you – months ago now – but you knew you could find a small measure of pleasure in a cup of coffee on a day like today. 

After many twists and turns, your weary feet led you to an area you weren’t wholly familiar with. Maybe it was new? This was more upscale than your usual, you realized – your Hunter’s salary was decent enough, but definitely not this decent. Cobblestone that looked suspiciously new made the click of your boot-heels echo loudly off of your surroundings. You scrutinized the buildings before you, searching for somewhere that your presence would not offend, where you could also acquire what you were after. Everything was just a touch too upscale, too unwelcoming. All of the storefronts blurred into one image, one place where you weren’t welcomed. You chased thoughts from that same morning out of your mind that threatened to break through as you were forced into a moment of mental silence, and the still of the air and the lack of bustle kept returning you to reality. The last place you wanted to be. 

After a time of aimless searching, you spied a place that looked acceptable. It was smaller than the other establishments, tucked away conservatively into an alley, lit by warm sconces along either side. Unlike the other buildings, it was painted in a warm, sandy beige. You couldn't tell much else about it from the outside, other than that the interior was dimly lit. The imagery of the cup of coffee on the signage was enough to guide your way. You pulled open the heavy glass door, and half expected it to be partially empty on the inside, but you had no such luck. It was bustling, but warm as a result, and you realized how cold you had been before you had stepped in. The change in temperature almost immediately made you feel too hot in your coat.

The patronage was definitely outside of your tax bracket. The patronage was clad in an array of expensive looking furs and fabrics, all speaking to each other in the lowest of dulcet tones. You felt their eyes on you, but disregarded them. It wasn’t as if you weren’t allowed to be here, regardless of how out of place you may have looked. Which, you thought, wasn’t that much. You might not have been born into high snob-society, but you took good care of your looks. Your fingers were still moving slowly in protest to the inclement weather as you fished your wallet from your coat pocket, stepping towards the counter with the intention to order. You hardly glanced at the menu. You didn’t even have a drink in mind. Just something as a distraction. Liquid, hot enough to burn your tongue. A sensation to chase the thoughts away.

This course of action was quickly interrupted, however. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of a shock of white hair on someone who seemed to tower over the rest of the people in the room, even while sitting. Clad in blacks and velvet reds, he both fit in perfectly and stood out starkly all at once. He was talking to someone else you couldn't see in a hushed tone.

Sylus?

Surely not. Why would he even be here, of all places? Sure, it was nice, but not places-Sylus-frequented nice. Or at least, the places you imagined he frequented. You still didn’t have a full idea of all of the things Sylus did with his free time. Short of that, what was he doing cavorting about in Linkon in public? Your eyes bored holes into the back of his head, trying to catch wind of what could have possibly brought him to a place like this. You side stepped into a corner table that allowed you to get a better look at who he was speaking with.

A woman?

This clearly wasn’t just any woman, either. A cascade of elaborately curled blonde hair fell down her back in elegant waves, and a deep red dress clung to her like a second skin, outlining her perfectly against Sylus’s dark form. A small nose, and full lips. Long, dark lashes. She was saying something to him, but you couldn’t make out the words in the den of the conversations from the other patrons. He laughed in response to her words, and leaned closer to her. She was smiling at him, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. Her other hand touched his shoulder.

Stones stacked neatly in your stomach as you watched them. You felt like a voyeur. They looked exquisite together – it was undeniable. She was even wearing the perfect color of red. It looked as if she had exsanguinated someone and dyed the dress in their blood – a perfect match for Sylus. Everything else – everyone –  in the room paled in comparison. Sylus was still smiling at her, full of charm. You thought about what Zayne had said to you before forcing you to take time off. 

You look like you’re two steps away from death. Take a few days off.

Well, his observation was more astute than he realized, clearly. You certainly felt that way now, in light of the spectacle that was playing out before you. Maybe only one step away. Half a step. You told yourself this was none of your business, that you should just quietly take your leave before he noticed you had ever been here. There was no reason for him to take notice of you while he was attending to his private matters. You were just passing through his life. Brushing through his fingertips. Never actually touching him in any way that mattered. Physically, mentally, spiritually. 

You decided you needed to leave. Urgently. Despite telling yourself staring down the couple wasn’t bothering you because there was nothing between you and Sylus anyway and what the hell was your problem, you had begun to feel nauseated. You clutched your arm about your midsection, and hurriedly peeled yourself out of your seat. Every one of your muscles protested at the movement, reminding you that you should be at home right now. On forced bedrest, probably. 

That just wasn’t in the cards. You weren’t sure you had a hand to play at all. You silently cursed the great dealer in the sky.

You made a beeline for the door, but not before you took one final glance at Sylus and his companion. Even if you were to turn into a pillar of salt for looking back, you just needed one more glimpse. To satiate your curiosity. But luck wasn’t on your side (when was it ever?), because you met Sylus’s eye as you looked, as well as those of the beautiful woman. You saw surprise pass over his features, and thought you saw his lips part as if he were going to say something. The woman peered back at you curiously. You cast your eyes away from the bewitching image before you. 

You could feel all the water being sucked from each of the cells in your body, one by one. You would shrivel up on the spot, and leave behind only the base impression of yourself in the wake of your shame. Hopefully, your rotten yearning soul would be freed to roam elsewhere, far from here, in this place you didn’t belong.

Ah, take me, O salt pillar!

There were no such mercies in this life, of course. You left the cafe as quickly as your feet would allow. The glass door slammed behind you. You were running now, for reasons you couldn’t (didn’t want to) quantify. It wasn’t as if he was chasing after you, coming to explain that no, she’s just a friend, just someone I work with, don't worry.  Faster you went, the need to see the comforting outline of your apartment against the sky becoming more desperate by the moment. Fortunately, the run home was certainly shorter than the walk to the cafe, and the image you so desired to see appeared before you, blessedly. 

Only then did you allow yourself a moment to rest. Your lungs screamed in protest at your outburst, and you sucked in great mouthfuls of air, trying to forcibly still your rapidly beating heart. It was always betraying you in one way or another, even now. You bent over, your hands on your knees, and took a moment to collect yourself. You were grateful no one had been around to see this display, from you leaving your apartment, to running away from a damn coffee shop empty-handed. You curled a fist in your hair, willing it out of your face as you righted yourself. A few stray strands came away in your fingers. That had been happening more and more often, as of late.

The walk up the stairs was nothing else if not excruciating, and you thanked even your unluckiest stars that Xaiver didn’t seem to be home from work yet to see the unfortunate events of your life play out as they were. You stumbled into your apartment – being sure to lock the door behind you, as always. 

The safety of your home did good work to soothe your nerves, a stark contrast to the horrid occurrence in the cafe. You shrugged into something more comfortable: a camisole and a pair of soft, cotton pajama shorts. This set had yet to let you down in the comfort department. Even as you changed, the events played over and over through your mind, and you burned with the embarrassment of it all. Sylus’s smile at that woman, his laughter. The way his gaze had twisted into something else entirely when he saw you. Your nausea refused to calm. Your mouth kept filling with too much saliva, over and over.

Why did you have to run away, of all things? You had left like a petulant child who was unable to cope with the sight before them, instead retreating to your small corner of safety in the world. 

Wry thoughts came to you. This is what I get for taking a day off. You knew you had been wrong to do so. Your prophecy was always fulfilling itself. Take that, Dr. Zayne. 

Still, you were yet unwilling to heed the siren’s call of your bed, despite the increasing intensity of its song. You flopped onto the couch instead with a sigh, the air entering and leaving your lungs easier now. You longed to be rid of the image of Sylus entangled with someone else, and decided you needed to busy your hands with something to scrub the thoughts from your mind. 

As a result of not taking nearly any days off lately, you were definitely behind on the maintenance of your weapons. It technically wasn’t work. It was only related to work. You bent over from your position on the couch, and peered underneath it. Here was where your smallest gun safe lived. Perhaps not the most ideal place for it – but it wasn’t as if you had company over often, anyway. Save for Xavier, your steady and ever-reliable partner. And more recently, Sylus, who you hadn’t yet found an accurate definition for. His presence was usually accentuated by some excuse to intrude on your space.

You unlocked the safe. It was an old-school version, not biometric like the newer models. Pure, vintage analog goodness. A gift from Grandma when you had entered the Hunter’s Association. It came open with a soft, satisfying click. Only two weapons were usually inside – your Hunter’s issue handgun, old faithful. You returned it to its rightful place, now, as it had dutifully attended the cafe fiasco with you. With it was a piece that had forced itself into your possession – or rather, Sylus had forced it into your possession. You eyed the offending object, picking it up gingerly and placing it on the coffee table in front of you. It was considerably heavier than your standard issue. It had thunked onto the glass of the table, as if it were moderately offended to be there. Did even his gifts take on aspects of his personality? His influence seemed to know no bounds, so nothing would surprise you at this point. He certainly had a penchant for creating objects with personalities, if Mephisto was any measure.

This gun wasn’t the only firearm Sylus had thrust upon you. A gift, he had said. You weren’t wholly unconvinced he wasn’t using your house as his millionth-whatever-armory. You had accrued so many weapons that you had to acquire a secondary safe, the hulking mass of which sat in your bedroom forebodingly. It held all of the other “gifts” inside, tucked safely away in the darkness, waiting to be used for their dark purpose. You hid it underneath a spare sheet. The second safe was another gift from Sylus. It reminded you of him, in a way – it imposed its presence in your house: tall, cold, stark, and white. It didn’t fit here at all. And it was full of things meant to rend flesh from flesh, flesh from bone. Life from this plane into the next. You thought about the first time you met Sylus, and how he had obliterated a man from existence before your eyes with his evol. There hadn’t been so much as an ounce of recognition in his eyes for the life he had taken. The memory made your nausea threaten to return to you.

Your eyes came back into focus on the gun in front of you. You liked guns, and as much as you hated to admit it, this one was no exception. It was a beautiful article – a faithful reproduction of a vintage Colt 1911.  A classic, by anyone’s measure. It was a forty-five caliber, with an eight-plus-one round capacity. The recoil of your Hunter’s association issue paled into comparison to this, and it affected your accuracy negatively. You had recently replaced its bullets – standard full metal jackets – with hollow point rounds. Higher accuracy, higher damage. You planned to test this on the next Wanderer who was unlucky enough to be at the other end of your barrel. Or the next man. Those had only recently come into your sights, as a result of your exploits – at the request of Sylus. He had never actually asked you to gun a living person down, though. You weren’t sure you were even capable of doing so. Or if he would ask. 

The wood grip was custom engraved with your name, and encrusted with jewels, courtesy of him. Naturally. The body was scrubbed of any serial number. Naturally.

Ugh. 

You placed it on your knees, with the intention to take it apart to clean and maintain it. You intended to add a suppressor, which you had purchased with your own money. Not a gift from Sylus. Small victories.

Just as you began to take the weapon apart, you caught a sound. There was a sort of shuffling at your door, as if someone were standing behind it. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, prickling. Your intuition told you that whatever was behind it was something to be feared. You loaded the spare magazine of hollow points into the piece with a soft click. You flicked the safety off. Your hands had already begun to sweat.

You pointed the gun at the door. It was too heavy in your hands. 

Whoever was behind the door was making quick work of the lock, despite it necessitating your biometric data to unlatch. 

What if it was the same people who had taken the lives of Caleb and Gran? Had they finally had enough of this game of cat and mouse, and come for you?

You held your breath to steady yourself. The extension of Sylus’s violence wavered back and forth in your grip. The door came open at a painfully slow pace, and a large figure in black slipped through. You cocked back the hammer, which had previously given you difficulty. Now adrenaline bolstered even the strength in your fingertips, any previous weakness forgotten. The figure turned, closing the door behind him. Upon seeing you on your makeshift gunner’s perch on the back of the couch, he raised his hands in surrender, showing you the calloused tan of his palms. One of his hands was nearly the size of your head.

“Sylus?”

His eyebrows had initially shot up in surprise at your current posture, but he quickly relaxed his face into that of his usual mask of easy confidence. You hated that about him, his composure. You adored it, too. He couldn’t even bother to look afraid at the end of a gun. The gun he gave you. You exhaled the breath you had been holding through your nose.

“Expecting someone else?” 

He sounded pleased, of all things. You suddenly felt very exposed, in nothing but your camisole and shorts. Despite the gun in your hands, it was as if you were at the other end of his. Your head felt hot. Your forearms began to protest at the weight of the weapon. You blinked new wetness into dry eyes. 

“Why the fuck are you breaking into my house?” 

You didn’t lower the gun. You didn’t want to.  It wasn’t as if it was the first time you two had ended up like this. You, trying to kill him. Him, accepting your choice. Probably not the last, either. You were angry with him – not for breaking in, no. Not for his casual nonchalance in the face of death (could he even die?), not for his disregard for your poweress as an opponent. But for his date with someone else. Someone who was decidedly not you. The feeling bubbled up, stronger and stronger until it was burning you from the inside out. Shame accompanied it, hand in hand.

Of course, you had no real justification for this feeling. You and Sylus weren’t dating, as you needed to remind yourself more and more frequently. You weren’t even sure you could call your relationship friendly – it was somewhere in the bizarre stage of you wanting him, and him accepting your every move with grace. He took you for all you were in stride, met you for all your whims, and you trailed after his every word. You had something he wanted – what it was, you were never quite sure. It changed with his tides. You couldn’t pry it from him. Questions were only answered with more questions, so you had given up on asking them. Sylus’s response to your question cut through your thoughts. His voice was soft, imporing. 

“You didn’t answer my texts or calls. I was knocking for a while, too, but there was no answer. With the way you left, I came to make sure.” 

Make sure of what?

You hadn’t heard any knocking. You also hadn’t checked your phone.

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and they came in a slow, steady stream into your consciousness. You thought about the first time you had shot him. How his blood erupted from his chest in hot streams. It stained your hands as you tried desperately to stop his bleeding, pressing against the pulse of the open wound. When you thought you had taken his life. When he had pressed the trigger for you. When he didn’t die. The heat of him was still there, under your palms. It wouldn’t wash off. He was under your skin.

“I’m glad you like the gift, by the way.”

He took a step towards you as he spoke. You adjusted your grip. He was still in your sights. Your breath came quick, your mouth dry. You licked your lips, cracked from worrying your teeth on them so often lately. You thought about the woman and Sylus. Together. The red dress. Sylus’s blood. His laugh, for someone else. Not you.

“You’re welcome to take my life again,” he murmured soothingly, “But it might disturb the neighbors. Particularly the one downstairs. Of course, I’m willing to help you deal with the aftermath. Either way.” 

He still had his hands raised in submission. The image of it was practically ridiculous. This wasn’t a posture that Sylus took up under any other circumstance. You knew it was all a show for your benefit, and that you were no match for him, despite your own prowess. Something about his unrelenting acceptance of his own death at your hands (again) dragged you out of your stupor by your achilles heel. You lowered the gun. Sylus took the opportunity to stride forward, and quickly slipped it from your hands with his own. You let him. His touch lingered just a moment too long, fingers pressed to yours. He was warm. Too warm for someone who had just been out in the cold. You resisted the urge to take his hand. His evol materialized, and quickly turned the safety on, ejecting the magazine. It returned the gun to the safe, shutting it away as if it had never happened. The red cloud disappeared as quickly as it came, as if it never were at all. The process took no more than a few seconds of silence between the two of you.

“You were going to modify it?” He asked, nonchalant. As if you hadn’t just been almost making an attempt on his life. He glanced at the suppressor, now cold and lonely on the coffee table.

“Yeah. I was going to...add a suppressor.”

You could hear the flat affect in your voice. It reflected how drained you were beginning to feel by all of this, on top of everything else. Your shoulders sagged under the weight of it.

What the fuck was this conversation, actually? 

Sylus nodded, still managing to look pleased with the situation. You felt your life force actively draining from you as the seconds ticked by, as if you were the one who had almost been shot. His gaze shackled you in place, still. The sterling of his hair and the garnet of his eyes were just as enticing as ever. Radically out of place in your modest apartment. 

“Can I help you down?”

His soft inquiry brought to your attention that you were still perched with one foot up on the back of the couch, poised to kill him. Your hands were now very much without the gun. Nothing connected you to the world below you concretely, anymore. Except him. He was standing before you with an offered hand. At some point during your conversation, he had rolled up his sleeves, revealing the rippling capability of the muscle of his forearms. It enticed you without voice. You took his outstretched hand, wordlessly. To your surprise, he pulled you over the back of the couch and towards him, catching you like you were nothing, his free hand supporting your waist. You landed softly on your feet in front of him, still in his arms, hand in his own. For a moment, the posture reminded you of how you had danced with him at the auction. You looked up at him, he down at you. His expression was inscrutable, save for a little smile. You were close enough to see the soft sweep of his eyelashes. The circles under his eyes. Proud nose and soft lips. You pulled away, hugging your arms to yourself. It was much colder for his lack of touch. His hands hovered at the place where he had held for a moment, and then fell back to his sides.

“What has you so wound up? I tried to call out to you this morning, but you bolted before I could greet you.” 

Sylus had his head cocked at you now, as if the answer you had for him was something very simple. He adjusted one of his sleeve garters. You averted your gaze, studying a now very interesting speck of dust on your floor. You wanted to put all of this behind you, to forget it had ever happened. You would have never brought it up had he never shown his face. But he had to be here, asking questions. Making you lie to him even more than you already did. You had never been a liar until you spent time with him. You tried to keep your tone level as you spoke.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your date.” 

Even saying it made your insides crawl. You spat the last word out with more venom that you had intended. Your lower intestine was trying to creep up to your diaphragm, and seemed to be succeeding. Sylus raised an eyebrow in your direction.

“Date?”

 He crossed his arms over his chest. The movement made his biceps all the more prominent. He sounded puzzled, and was scrutinizing you, now. You couldn’t comprehend what was so hard to understand about all of this. You sighed, despite your best attempts to keep your emotions from bleeding through your cracks.

“Yes, date. What would you have me do? Come up and introduce myself while you’re clearly in the middle of something?”

You were aware you were completely out of line here. None of this was any of your concern in the first place. You had stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. Sylus had, quite literally, no obligation to you whatsoever. Certainly not to explain himself, or who he chose to spend his time with. You wanted to shrink and disappear into the floorboards. Perhaps you could seep through the cracks like smoke, and escape this confrontation all together. But you didn’t have that kind of power – unless Sylus was with you, holding you in his arms.

He had been quiet for a time. He started again.

“The woman I was with today is one of my contacts in Linkon. She helps me smuggle things in and out when I can’t attend to them personally. I’ve been working on...procuring something. For you.” He cleared his throat a little, as if he had just told you an embarrassing secret. 

You gawked at him. He was still smiling at you. His eyes met yours. Seeing everything you didn’t want him to see. He didn’t even need to use the protocore in his right eye. It was all bared to him, regardless.

“And yes,” he continued,

“I would have been very pleased to introduce you. You only let me show you off every so often – I wanted to seize the opportunity by the horns.”

There were too many things you didn’t understand. How he could move about Linkon so nonchalantly. How he could be having conversations about smuggling in an upscale Linkon cafe. How the man before you, who gained all of his income from untold numbers of criminal activities, was the same who willingly spent his free time with you playing Kitty Cards and screwing around in the arcade. It was too much. You turned from him, and instead returned to the safety of the couch. You sat on it, grounding yourself with the feeling of your own belongings. You heard him follow after you. His shoes were still on, but you didn’t have the heart to scold him for his disregard for your floor's cleanliness.  He sat next to you. The couch sunk under his greater weight, and caused you to slip a little closer to him on the furniture. 

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Sylus.”

It was all you could say. Better to keep the respectable distance between you just as it was. Any further and you wouldn't be able to keep up this facade around him anymore. He kept pulling at your threads, trying to reveal your insides. 

“No one owes anyone anything. But I wanted to tell you. Besides,” you felt his evol touch your hand, ever so gently. It was as if he was holding it without actually holding it. The little red extension of himself curled around your fingers playfully. You remembered how it had choked and shackled you in the past. Now it sat in your lap like a beloved pet, curling about your knees and fingertips. It’s usual crackling intensity was gone, now only a light, pleasant buzz against your skin. You focused on the sensation. It was warm, like him.

"Here I was, excited to think that you were going to shoot me because you thought you saw me out with someone else. I’m a little disappointed that wasn’t the reason.”

He was chuckling, like what just occurred had amused him. Something to spice up the usual banal repetition of his everyday life. You felt yourself deflating. There was no more hot air left inside – just the residual exhaustion, both emotionally and physically. You found yourself wishing, again, that you hadn’t taken a day off. If you hadn’t, Sylus wouldn’t have broken into your apartment to explain he wasn’t out with someone else. To you. The person he was also decidedly Not With. You fiddled with his evol in your lap. You had been around him often enough to know this teasing was his way of trying to cheer you up – to take your mind somewhere else besides exhausted and angry and I want to leave this plane of existence.

“I’ll be sure to follow through with it next time.” 

There was no real bite to your words – to your ears, you only sounded exactly as you felt. Like you were threatening the man you had feelings for who did not return them, yet still refused to leave you alone. A plaything for his own amusements. Sylus merely nodded. His evol had since made its way to the drawstrings of your shorts, and it was tying them in various intricate knots, there. You wondered at it. It seemed to have a mind of its own – but you were certain that this, too, was another idle whim of his.

“I’m looking forward to it, then.” 

His statement was quiet, nearly a sigh of pleasure. The back of your neck and ears burned in tandem. You examined the knots that were now likely forever tied into your poor drawstring. 

What the fuck kind of knots even were these?

You pointedly ignored the minor arousal that threatened to arise at this.

“There’s something wrong with your brain. Seriously.” 

“It takes a thief to catch a thief, my dove.” You could hear the smile in his words as he spoke.

“You have a few days off, right?” He was rolling the previously abandoned suppressor around in his fingers, examining it. You swore he had somehow gotten closer to you on the small couch – with the way his legs were spread, his knee was just barely touching yours. 

“Yeah. Wait, how did you know?”

He ignored your question. As he almost always did, as it suited him. Instead, he responded with another question of his own.

“Why don’t you come back with me to the N109 zone? You can rest there, instead of here. Or, we can go out. Whatever you’d like.”

You were about to deny him, but his voice took on a more serious tone as he continued to speak.

“This place is going to claim your life if you don’t leave it every once in a while.”

You look two steps away from death. Take a few days off.

Why was everyone in your life so thoroughly convinced of your impending collapse? Even your criminal mastermind was in on it. You scrunched Sylus’s evol up in your hands. It wiggled, protesting your treatment in your fingers, but not dissipating. You wondered if he could feel your touch through it. If he could feel it when he killed. Maybe you did need to leave – maybe this place was killing you. If it wasn’t Wanderers, it would be your own disregard for yourself. Maybe the air was forever tainted by the death of your family, and the miasma would never quite leave your lungs. Maybe running away was the best thing to do. Sylus was giving you an out – at least for a little while. Maybe there were strings attached. There had to be, without a shadow of a doubt.  He was silent while you mulled it over. You expected him to comment on your lack of response, but he said nothing.

Irritatingly patient.

You sighed. You turned to Sylus.

“Fine. But I only have a few days. Give me a few minutes to pack my things.”

Sylus had the good grace to look surprised at how easily you had agreed to his suggestion, but it quickly turned into a look of barely concealed smug satisfaction. His evol vanished from your grip, and you found yourself missing its comforting touch.

“You technically don’t need to pack anything. I have everything you could possibly need at the base. Clothes, food, weapons, shampoo, conditioner…the kinds you like.” He trailed off. You couldn’t tell how serious he was being, what with the expression he was serving you. You shot him a look.

He raised his hands, showing you his palms, submitting once again. 

“Like I said. Give me a minute to pack my things.”

Sylus leaned back on the couch, relenting. He dropped his hands.

True to your word, gathering your things for a trip to the N109 zone took little time at all. It wasn’t that you were particularly Spartan with your assets – but rather that Sylus really did keep all of the things you needed around, and much more. Knowing you could trust him on this front made warmth creep to your face, and the cold began to seep from your bones. After changing, you returned to the living room with your bag, where Sylus was patiently awaiting your return. He was peering out your window. The sun hit him just right, and it illuminated his eyes with its beams. The red only intensified in the light, the color of blood only just exposed to air. You could have stared at the image of him forever. He always claimed to be unlucky, but it seemed to you as if every aspect of the world bowed to him. For someone who was so weak to its rays, he was lit brilliantly by the sun. He turned to you, squinting. Your eyes fell to your gun, which was in his hands. You recalled that he had definitely returned it to the safe, previously. He waved it at you, careful not to point the barrel in your direction.

“Don’t forget this.”

He stood as he spoke, and stepped toward you. His form loomed over you, and you felt him slip the gun into your thigh holster (where you had planned to put your standard issue) underneath your coat.

  Bastard. 

His hand lingered on your hip before he put it in his coat pocket. He smelled good. He was wearing something today that you couldn’t quite place. His natural scent was there, too. 

Rosemary? Figs? Cloves?

“Shall we?”

His voice cut through your mental musings on men’s fragrance notes. You nodded, following after him as he led you out of your apartment. You were sure to lock the door behind you. Again. His bike was waiting faithfully for you in the parking lot. Sylus slipped your helmet on for you (why did he even have a second helmet on him today in the first place?), making sure your hair was tucked neatly away behind your neck. After repeating the action on himself, he kicked the stand out from under his bike, and you got on behind him. You always had no choice but to wrap your arms around him when you rode. You wondered how it made him feel – or if he felt anything about the contact at all. His back was broad, solid, and warm underneath your touch. You swore you could feel his muscles ripple underneath you, even with the barrier of his clothing between you. You squeezed him a little tighter as he began to drive. Even through your jacket, the air nipped at you for your speed. As he pressed the bike harder, you felt something tickle around your waist. You peeked down as best you could through the visor of your helmet. Sylus’s evol was keeping you neatly attached to him, as if your arms weren’t enough. The inside of your helmet suddenly felt hotter. You tried not to think about why he did the things he did. Sylus offered no acknowledgement or explanation for any of this. As always.

The bike sped on to the N109 zone, eager to return to where it belonged.

[owlcomics101]

Zombie Task force 141 x immune!Reader head cannons

Warnings: possible gore (We are talking about zombies here), corpses, Language (Cussing), sfw (I am a minor), fluff, Reader is gender neutral.

Context/backstory: The zombie apocalypse started few months ago. You were just a citizen, but not just any citizen, you were one of the very few who were immune to the Virus. You were being hunted by people who wanted to you use to find the cure to the virus, but that meant the cost of your life. There had to be a better way to get the cure. Right? Lasswell later found you, she was one of the very few soldiers left unaffected in the British military. Lasswell needed your help. The whole task force was infected but by some miracle they can still work. They just need someone to keep them grounded. Someone human who could take few bite or scratches. But you had no military experience, you only somewhat knew how to use a pistol and a knife thanks to the apocalypse. You were currently being escorted to an old run down base by two masked soldiers who were infected as well. You could tell by how they made groans and gurgling sounds and couldn’t take their eyes off you . You could’ve sworn you saw drool drip down from their masks. You could already see the silhouette of the task force. They have been waiting for you.

Soap: Soap was the most unstable of the group. As much as he didn’t want to bite or hurt you there has been a few close calls. Especially if you drew blood. You always kept your skin covered as much as you could around Soap. You would borrow any of the team’s old oversized uniforms and covered your arms, legs, and neck with it. Soap couldn’t help but be a bit possessive of you. Wither it be because of his urges to eat you or that you’re the only human who ever treated him and the others like people and not monsters. Whenever you were close to other zombie soldiers, Soap would tightly hold your hand the whole time. Price constantly has to remind Soap that you’re capable of taking care of yourself and to stop acting like your body guard 24/7 but he just can’t help himself. Enjoy an over protective, walking Scottish Corpse looming over you.

Ghost: Ghost was the first one of the team to be infected when the virus first broke out. He attempted to cut his jaw off to prevent himself from biting anyone before he turned but it was already too late. Soap found Ghost gurgling and groaning as he was feasting off the remains of another soldier. To Soap’s horror and relief that he also found Ghost…crying? Ghost was still conscious, somewhat at least. The team took him back to get studied and maybe even cured but that wasn’t the case. Ghost had starved himself for weeks, refusing to eat another human being again but when Soap came to check on him. Ghost lost it and bit into Soap. When you first arrived Ghost did his best to distance himself from you. He was already a distant person to begin with but he also didn’t want to hurt you like he did to Soap, despite Soap already have forgiven him multiple times. But you just kept getting closer, somehow breaking down his walls with your affection and that sweet smile of yours. That Damm smile.

Gaz: The last to be infected. He couldn’t bear to leave his team behind, even if they were zombies. Gaz stayed with them as long as he could. Trying to keep the team sane and stop them from eating everything like you are now, but one mission Gaz got bit by an enemy soldier and it was all over. Gaz is the least decomposed compared to the others, he looked the most human. Which meant he’d accompany you when going into places with People. Gaz is a bit more in control than Soap or Ghost but sometimes his mouth can’t help but water being surrounded by people. He wore a balaclava mask to somewhat muffle his senses, but thankfully you were always there to keep him grounded. Gaz tends to silently scowl or snarl when someone gets too close to you. It felt like instinct to him to keep everyone and thing away from you. Even himself sometimes, but it’s hard to when you’re always holding his hand or leaning on him.

Price: The most in control. Price sacrificed himself to save Gaz from a horde of zombies which explained his more mauled looking state compared to the others. He’s the one that bandages you up when you get wounded because the others would either go berserk or drool all over you. He acts the most human and even still smokes from his cigars which looks hilarious because when he exhales, the smoke will leave out of every cut or hole in his body. How can he smoke with rotting lungs? We’ll never know. Despite having the most self control, Price can slip up sometimes but it’s very, very rare. One time he was bandaging your bloody wrist up when you look over and see him licking and sucking the blood off your wrist.

Y/N: “Uh, captain?”

Price: “Mmm?”

Y/N: “Your doing the-uh…thing again.”

Price: wha-….Ah fucking hell….

[theonottsbxtch]

NO TIME TO DIE | OP81

an: okay so no one actually asked for this but i was listening to the song and it made me want to continue the skyfall series, this is set a few months after skyfall, enjoy!

wc: 4.5k

The sound of waves rolling in against the shore had become part of the rhythm of their days. It was peaceful here, tucked away on the coast of a quiet Mediterranean town. The sun-drenched pier stretched into the turquoise water, where Oscar worked hauling crates and helping local fishermen. It was nothing like the life they’d once known—missions, danger, codes whispered through secure lines. Here, they were just two people trying to blend into the ordinary world.

She wiped her hands on her apron, glancing out through the bar’s open window to catch a glimpse of Oscar by the docks. He was laughing with one of the fishermen, his tanned skin gleaming under the late afternoon sun. He looked happy. They both did. But a part of her could never fully relax. Even after months in hiding, there was always that nagging thought that someone, somewhere, was still watching.

The bar wasn’t busy today. A few tourists sat in the shaded corners, sipping drinks as they chatted over maps and travel guides. She moved behind the counter, mixing another round of cocktails for a group at the far end of the bar. The usual routine.

That’s when she saw him.

At first, it was just a glimpse—a man in a pale blue linen suit, sitting alone at the corner table. He hadn’t been there when she’d last looked. Something about the sharpness in his posture, the calm, predatory stillness, sent a wave of unease through her. She couldn’t place why until he tilted his head to accept the drink she was serving to him, and their eyes met.

Her stomach dropped.

It was Zak. Oscar’s old boss.

Her hands froze on the cocktail shaker, and she almost dropped it. The world narrowed around her as she fought to keep her expression neutral, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. He didn’t seem to recognise her. Not yet. But she knew it was only a matter of time. Her mind raced. Why was he here? Had he found them? Or was this just a coincidence, some cruel twist of fate?

For a second, she considered ducking out the back door, running to Oscar, and telling him to pack whatever they could and leave—again. But she couldn’t draw attention to herself. Not here, not now.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile and set the drink on his table.

“Your whiskey, sir,” she said, her voice steady despite the panic rising in her throat.

His eyes flicked up to hers, cool and calculating. He gave a nod of thanks, his gaze lingering a moment longer than she liked. Too long.

Her hands were trembling as she turned back toward the bar. She needed to get to Oscar—before it was too late.

Her heart raced as she stepped back behind the bar, her hands still shaking from the brief encounter. She could feel his eyes on her, watching, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew exactly who she was. She had to move—now.

With a quick glance at the handful of customers, she slipped into the small kitchen behind the bar. The second she was out of sight, she ripped off her apron and tossed it onto a counter. Panic surged through her as she moved to the back door, hands fumbling with the latch. Every second counted. She had to get to Oscar before they were trapped here. Before it was too late.

She pushed the door open—only for it to slam back shut in her face.

She stumbled backward, startled, and that’s when she saw him. Leaning against the doorframe, casual as ever, stood Lando.

“Not so fast, sweetheart.”

His voice was low, smooth, but laced with that same dark edge she remembered too well. His sniper instincts, the way he moved—silent and lethal. She hadn’t seen him since that night a mission months ago, she never forgot his face. Or how dangerous he was.

Her heart pounded as she took a step back, her hand instinctively moving to her side—only to realise she wasn’t armed. She had been in hiding too long, letting her guard down, forgetting what it was like to be hunted. And Lando, it seemed, hadn’t forgotten at all.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he stepped forward. "Oscar around? I’m guessing that Zak would love to have a chat with him, too.”

“Go to hell, Lando,” she spat, dropping into a defensive stance. Rusty or not, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Lando lunged at her, fast and brutal. She dodged to the side, just barely avoiding the punch aimed at her face, but his movements were sharper than she remembered. He swung again, and this time his fist grazed her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. Pain shot through her side, but she didn’t let it slow her down.

She pivoted, using the cramped space to her advantage, grabbing a heavy frying pan off the nearby counter and swinging it at his head. He ducked just in time, but the clang of metal echoed through the kitchen. She swung again, this time catching him in the shoulder.

Lando grunted, staggering back, but he recovered quickly, grabbing her wrist and twisting it painfully. The pan clattered to the floor as she gasped in pain, but she used his moment of distraction to drive her knee up into his gut.

He cursed, doubling over, and she spun behind him, slamming his head into the edge of the counter with all her strength.

Lando collapsed to the ground, dazed but not out. She stood over him, breathing hard, her hands shaking. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Grabbing her apron from the floor, she wiped the blood from her lip and then shoved open the door, her mind racing. She had to get to Oscar before they both ended up dead.

She burst out of the kitchen door, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her as she sprinted down the narrow path toward the pier. The salty breeze whipped through her hair, but the peacefulness of the day only sharpened the terror clawing at her chest. Her lungs burned, but she didn’t slow down.

"Oscar!" she screamed, her voice carrying over the gentle sound of the waves crashing against the pier. She could see him now, down by the boats, hauling crates with the other workers. He turned at the sound of her voice, his brow furrowing in confusion when he saw her running toward him.

The moment their eyes met, the panic in her face must have said it all. His expression shifted, his body tensing as he dropped the crate mid-lift.

Without a word, he pushed past the others, sprinting to meet her.

“Lando,” she panted as he reached her, “Zak. They’re here.”

Oscar’s face paled, his jaw clenching tight as he muttered a quick, “Fuck.”

There was no time for questions, no time to think. His hand found hers, squeezing it tightly for just a second before they both turned, running back up the pier, away from the watching eyes of the tourists and locals. Behind them, the distant sound of seagulls and lapping waves seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding of their footsteps as they raced through the narrow streets.

They sprinted through the winding streets, the cottage coming into view, small and peaceful under the shade of the olive trees. But peace was an illusion now, shattered by the presence of the ghosts from their past.

Oscar’s grip on her hand tightened as they raced up the steps to the front door. He pushed it open with a sense of urgency, the weight of danger hanging thick in the air. They stepped inside, breathing hard, and froze.

But someone was already there.

Sitting casually at the kitchen table, as if he’d been waiting for them the whole time, was her old manager. Toto. His sharp eyes gleamed with that familiar coldness, and a slow, knowing smile curled on his lips.

“You never struck me as the type to go rogue,” he said, his voice calm, almost amused.

Her blood ran cold. Oscar’s body tensed beside her, every muscle coiled, ready for action. She instinctively shifted her weight, preparing to move—but Toto raised a hand.

“Don’t try anything,” he warned, his gaze locking on hers. “Remember who trained you.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. He was right. She had spent years under his guidance, learning the tricks, the strategies, the ways to take someone down before they even saw you coming. But now, that knowledge was turned against her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but that was all it took.

Before she could react, she felt the sudden pressure of an arm wrapping around her throat from behind. Her instincts kicked in, but it was too late—one of her old teammates, Lewis or maybe George had her in a tight headlock, his grip ironclad.

Beside her, Oscar struggled, too, another agent pinning him from behind. She twisted, trying to fight back, but the scent of chloroform hit her nose, sharp and suffocating. Her vision blurred as she gasped for breath, her mind screaming to break free.

“Shh,” Toto said, standing slowly from the table, his voice soft, almost condescending. “I warned you.”

The last thing she saw before darkness closed in was Oscar’s eyes, wide with fury and fear, as the world slipped away.

When she woke, the first thing she felt was the cold. The floor beneath her was hard, unforgiving, and the air carried a damp chill that made her skin prickle. Her eyelids were heavy, her mind groggy, and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there.

Then it hit her.

The chloroform. The ambush. Toto.

She gasped, blinking against the darkness, her breath shaky as she struggled to sit up. Her head throbbed, her body sluggish, but she forced herself to move. The room around her was dim, lit only by the faintest light coming from a single bulb swinging from the ceiling. The walls were bare, metallic, industrial—no windows, no clear way out.

“Oscar?” she rasped, her voice hoarse.

There was a groan from her left. She turned, heart pounding, to see him stirring on the floor, just as groggy as she was. His eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, but when they met hers, the same fear and confusion she felt reflected in his gaze.

“Where…?” Oscar muttered, struggling to sit up.

She crawled over to him, her hands trembling as she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek in the dark. He leaned into her touch, relief washing over both of them in that brief moment. They were alive. For now.

But this wasn’t over.

“We need to get out of here,” she whispered, her voice low but urgent, her eyes scanning the dark room for any sign of an exit.

Before Oscar could respond, a crackling sound echoed through the room—a voice over an intercom, distorted but chillingly familiar.

“Don’t try it.”

Her heart lurched, recognizing that voice immediately.

“Good morning, love birds,” Toto’ voice continued, calm and almost cheerful. “You should be glad I got to you before Zak did. He would’ve killed you both, without hesitation.”

She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Toto. The man who had trained her, the one who had made her into the operative she was. There had been a time when she’d trusted him with her life. Now, his voice made her blood run cold.

Oscar’s eyes snapped up, his hand moving to grip hers tightly. They were both wide awake now, adrenaline cutting through the haze of the drugs.

“I imagine you’re confused,” Toto went on, the sound of his voice bouncing off the cold, metal walls. “I would be, too. But don’t worry. All will be explained in time.”

She clenched her jaw, trying to steady her breathing, but anger simmered beneath her fear. Toto had always been a master manipulator, calm and collected even in the worst situations. He was doing it again now, playing with them, using his control over the situation to twist the knife deeper.

She exchanged a glance with Oscar. They needed to find a way out, fast, before Toto revealed whatever game he was playing.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Toto added, as if he’d forgotten. “There’s no use trying to escape. You’re not going anywhere.”

The intercom crackled, then fell silent, leaving them in the oppressive quiet of the dark room once more.

The room seemed to close in around them after Toto' voice faded. Every creak of the walls, every subtle hum of electricity, felt like a reminder that they were being watched. Oscar, now fully alert, squeezed her hand before shakily rising to his feet, wincing at the stiffness in his body.

“We have to move,” he whispered, his eyes darting around the dark room. “See if there’s a way out.”

She nodded, standing beside him as they quickly scanned the perimeter. The room was small, about the size of a storage unit, with no visible doors except the one they must have been brought in through. The walls were cold and metallic, and every surface was bare. No windows. No obvious cameras—but they knew Toto was watching.

Oscar moved to the door, running his hands along the edges, searching for weaknesses. She knelt beside him, checking the lower corner for any seams, anything they could pry open. Her heart pounded in her chest, knowing that Toto wouldn’t make this easy. He’d trained them to escape any trap, and now he’d set the perfect one.

After a few moments, Oscar cursed under his breath. “It’s reinforced,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “We’re locked in.”

She bit her lip, fighting the rising sense of hopelessness that threatened to overtake her. Of course they were. This wasn’t just some warehouse—they were in a controlled environment. Toto had planned this.

“We can’t just sit here,” she whispered. “There has to be something he overlooked.”

Oscar turned to her, his eyes fierce despite the tension in his face. “We have to play along. For now. Buy time, make him think we’re falling in line, but the second we get an opening—”

The intercom crackled again, interrupting him. They both froze, staring up at the small speaker nestled in the ceiling’s corner.

“I see you’ve already started looking for a way out,” Toto’ voice echoed through the room, laced with amusement. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from my star pupil. But I’ll save you the trouble—there’s no escape from here.”

She gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to scream back at him. Oscar’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. Toto was playing with them, and they both knew it.

“You have questions, I’m sure,” Toto continued, his tone turning conversational, like he wasn’t holding them hostage. “Why now? Why like this? Well, the truth is… Zak’s become reckless. You’ve both become liabilities. I intervened to protect you, believe it or not.”

She exchanged a glance with Oscar, a flicker of confusion and anger passing between them. Toto had always been calculated, but this sounded personal. She didn’t know whether to believe him or to take this as part of some larger game.

Toto paused, as if giving them time to absorb his words. “You might not understand yet, but I saved your lives today. There’s a bigger plan at play here. One that you—especially you, schatz—can still be a part of. If you cooperate.”

Her stomach twisted. Toto had never let go of control, never failed to pull strings behind the scenes. Even now, after everything, he was trying to manipulate her. And worst of all, part of her knew he might be telling the truth—that Zak would’ve killed them without a second thought. But trusting Toto meant walking right into whatever trap he was laying for them.

Oscar shook his head, his voice low but firm. “We can’t trust him.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her eyes locked on the intercom. “But we need to figure out what he wants.”

The room fell silent again, but the weight of Toto’ presence lingered like a shadow over them. She scanned the space again, her mind racing, trying to think of something—anything—they could use to their advantage. There had to be a weak spot somewhere.

“We wait,” Oscar murmured, his voice tense. “Act like we’re playing along until we find a way out.”

She nodded, though the knot in her stomach only tightened. How long could they pretend? And how much of the truth was Toto actually telling them?

For now, all they had was time. And they both knew, in the world of espionage, time was rarely on their side.

The door opened with a loud clang, jarring them both from their tense silence. Two large guards stepped into the room, their faces unreadable, and gestured for Oscar and her to stand. They exchanged a quick glance, knowing that resistance would only make things worse for now. The guards led them down a long, dimly lit hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold concrete walls.

At the end of the hall, a steel door slid open, revealing an interrogation room. The space was stark, lit by a single bulb hanging above a metal table with three chairs. In one of them sat Toto, waiting.

He didn’t look up as they were shoved inside and seated across from him, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. The guards exited without a word, the door clanging shut behind them. The sound of the lock clicking into place seemed to vibrate through the room, sealing them in.

For a long moment, the silence stretched between them. Toto watched them, his sharp gaze flicking between Oscar and her, studying them with the cold, calculated look of a man who knew exactly how to dismantle their defences.

“I’ll make this simple,” Toto finally said, his voice measured. “I have questions, and you’re going to answer them.”

She stared back at him, her pulse quickening, but forced her face to remain blank. The tension in the room was palpable, thickening with every passing second. Oscar, sitting beside her, was equally silent, his jaw clenched tight. They had both been trained for this—how to hold out, how to deflect. They weren’t about to give Toto anything, especially not after he’d taken them captive.

Toto raised an eyebrow at their silence, clearly unimpressed. “We can do this the hard way, if you’d prefer.”

Still, neither of them spoke.

His gaze settled on her, a flicker of frustration passing over his features. “What happened after the club?”

She clenched her fists beneath the table, her body tense. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Whatever he was fishing for, they wouldn’t give it to him—not without answers of their own.

Oscar leaned forward, his voice low and steady. “We’re not saying anything until you start talking, Toto. Why are we here? Why the hell are you playing this game?”

Toto leaned back in his chair, a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You really think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She exchanged a quick glance with Oscar before narrowing her eyes at Toto. “You kidnapped us, drugged us, and now you’re sitting here asking questions like we’re supposed to trust you? We’re not giving you a damn thing.”

For a moment, Toto simply watched her, his smile fading. His expression grew colder, more dangerous. He tapped his fingers on the table once more before leaning forward, resting his elbows on the surface.

“You’re not grasping the situation, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “You see, Zak wants both of you dead. Especially you.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the weight of his words. Oscar stiffened beside her, but she held her ground, her eyes locked on Toto. She had expected as much—knew how dangerous Zak was—but hearing it said out loud made it all the more real.

Toto’ gaze hardened as he continued. “He wants you gone because you seduced his best agent.”

Her stomach twisted at the accusation, but she didn’t flinch. This wasn’t just about their failed missions—this was personal for Zak. She had compromised Oscar, the agent he prized above all others, and now they were both paying the price.

“That’s why you’re here,” Toto went on, his voice uncomfortably calm. “He’s sent a kill order for both of you. I intervened, yes, but Zak’s patience is wearing thin. He’s not going to stop until you're both buried.”

Her mind raced, but she kept her expression neutral. She could feel Oscar’s tension beside her, his anger barely contained, but she knew they had to stay focused. This was a power play, and Toto had all the cards—for now.

Toto leaned closer, his eyes piercing into hers. “I can protect you from him. But you need to give me something in return. I need to know what you were doing after the club. Where you went. What you know.”

Oscar scoffed, finally breaking his silence. “So that’s it? You ‘save’ us, and now you’re holding us hostage? You’re no better than Zak.”

Toto’ lips curled into a cold smile. “I’m a lot better than Zak. Because unlike him, I don’t want you dead. But I need your cooperation.”

The room fell into silence again, heavy with unspoken tension. She knew they were trapped. Whatever deal Toto was offering, it was built on shifting sand. They couldn’t trust him, but Zak’s wrath was even more certain. They had been running for months, and now, they were backed into a corner.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she weighed their options. Toto was playing a game of survival, and right now, they were pawns.

“We need to be careful,” she whispered to Oscar, barely loud enough for Toto to hear.

She met Toto’ gaze again, her voice steady as she spoke. “You want to know what happened after the club? Fine. But first, we need guarantees. We want out of this. Away from Zak. Away from all of it.”

Toto’ eyes gleamed with interest. “I can make that happen. But only if you cooperate.”

Oscar looked at her, doubt flickering in his eyes, but she gave him a small nod. They had no choice for now. They would play along. But in the back of her mind, she was already planning—already thinking of a way to turn the tables.

Toto’ smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. “You’re going to help me with one last mission. Complete it, and I’ll give you what you want: a clean slate. No Zak. No more running.”

Oscar tensed beside her, his jaw clenched, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. They had no choice but to agree—for now.

“Fine,” she said, her voice cold. “What’s the mission?”

Toto leaned back in his chair, looking far too satisfied. “You’ll be retrieving something important. A prototype from Zak’s latest black ops project. It’s highly classified, heavily guarded. I need operatives who can get in and out without a trace.”

She didn’t believe for a second that Toto was telling them the full story, but they couldn’t refuse. Not with Zak’s kill order hanging over their heads.

“And if we do this,” Oscar said, his voice tight, “you let us go?”

Toto nodded. “You have my word.”

She met Oscar’s eyes, seeing the same doubt reflected back at her, but they were out of options. For now, they would play along. But she was already planning—already searching for any way to turn this situation to their advantage.

It was less than a day before they were sent.

The mission took them to a heavily guarded compound on the outskirts of a nondescript industrial city. They moved through the shadows like they had so many times before, the years of training and fieldwork kicking in instinctively. But this time, the stakes felt different—heavier.

The compound was crawling with guards, just as Toto had promised. As they worked their way inside, disabling security and avoiding detection, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Toto had been too smug, too confident. There was something he wasn’t telling them.

And then they reached the lab.

The prototype they were sent to retrieve sat in a reinforced glass case at the centre of the room. It looked unassuming—a small, sleek device about the size of a palm. But she knew better than to trust appearances. This was dangerous, cutting-edge tech, something that Zak had been developing in secret.

“We got it,” Oscar murmured, reaching for the case.

Before she could respond, the lights flickered. Her heart leaped into her throat as the security system whirred to life, alarms blaring. The doors slammed shut, locking them inside.

“What the hell?” Oscar hissed, spinning around to scan the room.

And then, through the dim light, she saw him.

Lando.

He stepped out of the shadows, a smirk playing on his lips, his sniper rifle slung casually over his shoulder. Her blood ran cold. This wasn’t just a retrieval mission—this was a trap.

“Lando,” she growled, her body tensing, ready for a fight. “If you’re here to kill me, you better get in line.”

But Lando didn’t move toward her. Instead, his eyes flicked to Oscar, and something unsettling passed over his face—a look of cold determination.

“No,” Lando said softly, “I’m not here to kill you. At least, not yet.”

In one swift motion, he pulled a small syringe from his jacket pocket and lunged toward Oscar. She reacted instinctively, moving to block him, but Lando was faster. He sidestepped her, grabbing Oscar by the arm and plunging the needle into his neck.

“Oscar!” she screamed, but it was too late.

Oscar staggered back, his hand flying to his neck, eyes wide with shock. His body seized for a moment, his face contorting in pain. And then, just as suddenly, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“What did you do to him?” she yelled, rushing to Oscar’s side. She shook him, her heart racing, but he didn’t respond. His breathing was shallow, his face pale.

Lando stood over them, his expression unreadable. “It’s not what you think. He’s not dead.”

“Then what the hell did you inject him with?” she demanded, her voice shaking with anger and fear.

Lando’s eyes darkened. “Something Zak’s been working on for a while. It’s a neural reboot. Wipes out memories, reprograms the mind for control.”

Her blood ran cold. “You turned him into a weapon.”

“Not me,” Lando corrected, his voice calm. “Zak. I’m just the messenger.”

She knelt beside Oscar, her mind racing. The man she loved—the man who had fought so hard to break free from this world—was now being dragged back in, turned into a puppet by Zak.

“How do I undo it?” she demanded, her voice shaking with fury. “How do I get him back?”

Lando’s smirk faded, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of something almost like regret in his eyes. “You can’t.”

She stood up, fists clenched, rage boiling over inside her. “I swear to God, if you don’t—”

Before she could finish, the doors to the lab burst open, armed guards flooding the room. Lando stepped back, disappearing into the chaos, leaving her standing there, helpless as they swarmed around her and Oscar’s unconscious form.

part two...

[dfortrafalgar]

Just A Little More Time

Law x Fem Reader

Law wants more, and winter break seems like the perfect opportunity. Indeed, he wants more... but not at the cost of your relationship.

A/N: Another bonus chapter for IMLY, the masterlist of which I will link below! I wrote this MONTHS ago and have a second part to follow that I still have to finish. You can definitely read this without reading the entirety of the main fic, but there are parts of this that directly reference IMLY, so there's a potential that these might not make as much sense ;3;

Warnings: Mentions of sex but nothing explicit, hints of past sexual trauma, allusions to medical issues, in general fluff and law being a dork

[IMLY Masterlist]

PLAY IT SAFE!  USE PROTECTION!

Law stared blankly at the bowl of condoms situated outside the student activities office.  A tiny index card placed beneath the pink plastic bin said they were free to take, but the biology undergrad felt beyond awkward reaching into the bowl to grab a few.  Would he even need them?  Everything had been going so well with you that he was worried he was going to jynx himself with every tiny action and idea.  For the first time in his life, he found something he truly, desperately wanted to hold onto.  He had fallen in love… and fallen hard.

Biting back his growing anxiety, and ignoring the off-put stares from students walking by, Law reached into the bowl, grabbed three wrapped condoms, and frantically stuffed them into the pocket of his baggy cargo pants.  He briskly trudged out of the building and began his walk through the brisk winter air across the campus to the dining hall where you promised to meet him.  A light snow was floating through the air, coating the frozen ground with powdery white that crunched beneath his shoes, the salted pavement of the walkways helping with traction.  His heart hammered at the mere thought of seeing you again- you had been so busy with final exams that the two of you had barely been able to spend time together, the pressure mounting even higher as the two of you wrapped up your third year as undergrads.  And although you were only officially dating for about three months, Law was endlessly looking forward to the next time he got to see you.

And he was really counting his blessings.  For the entire two months of winter break, you were staying together in his single dorm on campus.  He didn’t have much of a home to return to, usually choosing to stay with Shachi and Penguin.  You chose not to return home, finding distress in your family life.  And besides, who wouldn’t want to spend the winter cuddling under fluffy blankets with an adorable, nerdy med student?

Law pushed through the doors of the dining hall and proceeded into the expanse of tables and chairs, the same dining hall where he first found his heart racing at the sight of you.  The circumstances recently had been far nicer though, and it turned out his chronic resting-bitch face made for a pretty good bodyguard-type vibe, exactly what you needed to feel safe walking around the open campus of North Blue University.  You were hunched over one of the small tables in the back of the cafeteria, your chin resting against your fist as you flipped through a comic magazine, one that Law had leant you a week prior.  The bio student felt his lips pull into a small smile at the sight.

Sensing his approach, you picked your head up, a broad grin immediately appearing on your face as you stood from your chair and engulfed him in a hug.  A baggy crew-neck sweater adorned with the university’s logo enveloped you, your lavender and vanilla perfume wafting around Law in serene waves.  While he wasn’t ever a fan of PDA, there were so few people in the dining hall that he felt comfortable placing his hands on your waist and dipping you back just enough to reach the soft skin of your neck, peppering a smattering of kisses over your skin before releasing you.  Your bright, airy chuckles made his stomach twist with nervous butterflies.  The condoms in his pants pocket felt like they were lava, oozing and searing through the fabric.

“How was your last final?” you asked excitedly, pulling away from him to gather your things from the table.  You closed the magazine and held it toward him, Law happily accepting it back and tucking it into his backpack.

“It went well, I think.  I’ve never been great with language classes, though,” he muttered back, awkwardly rubbing his neck where the short black hairs reached the top of his spinal cord.

You grinned, almost blinding the man, slinging your own bag over your shoulder and grabbing his hand in yours.  Your fingers intertwined seamlessly.  “I’m sure you did absolutely amazing, you ace every single class you take.”

“I appreciate it,” Law replied, his voice low as he smiled at you, your eyes creased as they adjusted to the outside light.  “How were your’s?”

As quickly as your face beamed upon seeing your boyfriend, it morphed into a disinterested scowl.  “Language was fine.  Math on the other hand…”

“I thought it was an open note exam,” he inquired.

“It was.  The bastard TA decided last minute to make it closed-book.  Didn’t tell anyone until today, when the exam started.”  You were grumbling, stuffing your free hand into the pocket of your coat.  “I swear, the dude sitting next to me looked ready to end it all.  I might have too, but I have too much to look forward to.”

Law’s chest panged.  He knew it was a simple joke, but ever since forming your relationship, seeing you in any state other than happy and content was a health hazard for him.  He squeezed your hand, keeping the skin of your palm warm.  “I’m sure you did fine.  You tried your best, at least.”

“True, that’s all you can ask for, really.”  You stifled a yawn.  “Trying my best.”

The black-haired man’s heart raced more and more while approaching the door to his dorm building with you in tow, the three metallic-wrapped items in his pocket growing more and more scorching the closer he got to his room.  He was convinced he might pass out.  He was wildly regretting the choice to grab them, worried that you would get the wrong idea if you saw them, thinking he’d be pressuring you into something you weren’t ready for, thinking that this entire two-month relationship was nothing more than–

“Law?”

Your delicate voice broke him from his anxious spiral.  When did the two of you get into the elevator?

You were staring up at him, large eyes creased in concern.  “You look really nervous.  Are you alright?”

He gulped.  “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?  I can just go back to my own room if you’re suddenly not feeling well, I still have some things I have to pack up,” you offered.

Law’s hand was growing clammy in yours.  He prayed you couldn’t tell.  “No, you can stay.  I’m fine.”

Your own hand flexed in his, and while you turned your gaze away from him, you didn’t seem convinced at his answer.

One thing Law still struggled with, and something that he would probably always struggle with, was facing his emotions head on.  The last thing he wanted to admit out loud was the fact that he had grabbed three condoms from the student activities bowl with the hopes that two months of living in a small room with you would mean a potential score.  He didn’t even know if they would fit.  Were condoms one-size-fits-all?  He had no idea.  He’d never had sex before.

The low beep of the elevator’s button panel signaling their destination shook him once again from his own mind.  You losened your grip on his hand, worried that it was you who was the cause of his sudden nervous demeanor.

“Hey, Law,” you whispered, the quiet hallway absorbing your voice.  You stopped him in front of the elevator as it closed, standing directly in front of him to capture his eyes with your own.  “Take a deep breath with me, alright?”

You slowly inhaled through your nose, feeling how your ribs expanded ever so slightly as your lungs swelled with the warm air of the dorm building.  Law followed your lead, sucking in oxygen through his nose.  You had some sort of supernatural ability to make him feel better instantly, better than any form of medication or clinical treatment.  His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled with you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be,” you replied, a small smile on your lips.  You stepped closer to him, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth.  “I just want you to know that you can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”

Law swallowed another thick glob of spit down his esophagus before mustering a weak nod.  “I know.”

Footsteps down the hallway sparked a fire under Law’s feet, quickly dragging you to his door as innocuous as he could, jamming the key into the bolt and clicking open the lock.  He pushed the wooden barrier open with his hand and ushered you inside as you giggled over his frantic movements, not wanting to be seen by any potential bystanders.  Choosing to ignore any playful comments about his shyness, you instead kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your coat, making a beeline to Law’s single twin-sized bed and flopping onto the surprisingly plush comforter that covered his mattress.  As clinical and stoic as Law was, he had an absolutely adorable bedspread.  A simple blue comforter with an ocean wave pattern on it, plain white sheets, three pillows, and a large stuffed animal of a polar bear, which wore a peculiar orange shirt with a strange symbol embroidered on the front.  Everything was wrapped in Law’s scent, that familiar comfort of cedar and lemongrass.

Law chuckled, deep and husky, at the sight of you immediately wrapping yourself in one of the throw blankets situated at the foot of his bed.  “Comfy?”

You hummed in response, flopping onto his pillows and curling up under the throw, hiding your face and taking a deep inhale of the laundry detergent he used.  You might have fantasized about sharing a bed with him for the rest of your life, but he didn’t need to know that.  At least, not yet.

You peeked out from under the blanket as Law milled around his room, neatly situating your bag on the ground next to his, an action which made your heart flutter.  After only three months of steady dating, the two of you had already fallen into a routine when visiting your individual rooms, as if you had been together for an eternity.  Life with Law came so natural, despite the rocky start the two of you had upon first meeting.  The Law from the study room almost five months ago was a completely different man compared to the one nearly folding his clothing and organizing his desk to prepare for your stay, humming a small song under his breath.  He had reserved the top drawer of his wooden wardrobe for your clothing, the few sets of pajamas and day clothes that he wanted to keep in his room for when you spent the night.  (He had a few sets in your room, too.)

Deep in the crevices of your mind, you wondered what married life with him could be like.  He’d probably be just as domestic, if not more so.  He’d probably make such a great father…

“Hey,” he spoke, shaking you from your own trance.  The two of you were one in the same.  “Tired?”

“Nah,” you responded, sitting up slightly, letting the blanket fall around your abdomen.  “Just watching you like a creep.”

The laugh that left his lungs shook your ribcage, a heat fluttering through your veins.  “Do you wanna get changed?” he asked, pulling open the drawer below the one he reserved for you.

You swung your legs off the side of his bed, eager to get into cozier clothing.  “Obviously.”

Neither of you had seen the other naked.  Instead, you changed with your backs to each other, heads down, only turning around when the other gave permission to do so.  It was… comforting.  You assumed your stance behind Law with your back to him, quickly shedding your shirt, followed by your bra.  The sound of rustling clothes behind you signaled that Law was doing the same.  You had just pulled an oversized t-shirt over your head when you heard a few small paps on the floor, and a panicked, ‘Shit,’ from Law.

Not thinking, you turned around to look at what happened.

Three condoms lie on the floor next to his pants, Law frantically fumbling to scoop them off the ground.  He had forgotten to take them out of his pocket and stash them in his desk.  The force of him removing his baggy cargo pants pushed them up and out of the open pocket.

You quickly turned your back to him once again, your face flushed with heat, eyes wide.  It was too late, though.  He knew you saw.

“I…” he muttered, rapidly finishing changing and shoving the three metallic-wrapped packs into his desk drawer.  He was flustered, stuttering over his words.  He stumbled between muttering frantic apologies and explaining himself when you finally turned around.  His face was flushed a deep crimson as his golden eyes scanned your face for any form of discomfort or distrust.

“Were those for… me?” you asked, voice soft, apprehensive.

“No– I mean…” Law’s jaw snapped shut.  “Th… They were.  But only if you, you know– wanted to.  Or… fuck.”  He desperately searched for any appropriate explanation, terrified at the mere prospect of potentially driving you away from him, after he had come so far.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest at the thought.  On shaky legs, you approached the panicked man, gently grabbing his shoulders and grounding him.  “Hey, Law… breathe.”

He nervously licked his chapped lips, drawing a shaky inhale through his nose.  His eyes were clenched shut, too ashamed to look at you.  Your chest ached.

“Can we sit down?” you asked carefully, your hands trailing down his arms to grab his hands.  His fingers twitched at the contact, but he reciprocated your grasp.

You maneuvered yourself across the room, crawling back onto his bed and wrapping yourself in his blanket.  Law stayed seated on the very edge of the mattress, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground from his lifted bed frame.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, hanging his head.  His fluffy black hair shielded his eyes from your view.

“Please, don’t be,” you pleaded, scooting up behind him and resting your forehead against his vertebrae.  “It’s really alright.  I was just… surprised.  But flattered.”

Law slowly loosened his muscles.  He hadn’t expected ‘flattered’ to be the term to use.  “Really…?”

“I mean… yeah,” you replied.  “I’m surprised that you’d want that from me.”

The man’s stomach flipped.  He carefully turned around to face you, picking his legs up to sit more comfortably on his mattress.  “Why would you be surprised about that?”

The way you pursed your lips at his question made a million more concerns run through his mind.  You quickly shook your head back and forth.  “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Law kept his gaze on you solid as your eyes darted between his wall, his hands, his blanket.  You nervously fiddled with your cuticles.  “The only time I’ve ever had sex with anyone, I bled for, like… three days.  And it hurt.  A lot.”

The man’s jaw clenched.

“I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt him, so I just kinda let it happen.  But ever since then I’ve been…” you swallowed.  “Scared.  Like… I’m worried I’m broken.”

He wanted to slaughter the man who hadn’t noticed your pain, no matter how long ago the incident was.  The look on your face told him that it still cut you deep despite your calm tone.  Law leaned toward you, concern heavy on his face.  “Did you speak to a doctor about that?”

You nodded.  “Only once.  My old gynecologist as a teenager suggested it could be anything.  He was like, ‘It could be absolutely nothing, or you might have endometriosis.  But you’re so young, so it’s probably nothing.’  So to deal with it I just never got close to a guy since then.”

The black-haired man rolled his eyes.  “That doctor sucked.”

This made a small laugh burst from your lungs.  “He did suck.”  After a few brief moments, you finally made steady eye contact with your boyfriend across from you.  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“What?  No,” he blurted, waving his hands in the air.  “You didn’t disappoint me, you could never disappoint me.  If anything… I’m happy you trust me enough to share that.  I’ve…”  His voice trailed off.

You anxiously waited for his next words.

“I’ve never had sex before.  With anyone.  So all of this is still pretty foreign to me, too.”

A strange sense of relief filled your chest.  “Really?”

Law felt a tiny smirk twitch onto his lips.  “Does that surprise you?”

“A little, yeah.”  You were visibly loosening up, once again growing comfortable where you sat across from him on his bed.  “I mean, you’re crazy hot.”

Even more blood rushed to his cheeks making him feel warm from the crown of his head to the heels of his feet.  “If it helps… you are, too.  That’s… uhm… why I got those.”  He gestured with his head to his desk drawer.

You hid your face in his blanket, embarrassment pulsing through your blood with each rapid beat of your flustered heart.  “This makes me feel even more bad for being so scared.”

Law ghosted his hand over your shoulder, pulling you out of your slouch.  You reminded him of an armadillo in a way, curling up into a little ball to protect yourself from danger.  His mind flashed back to the movie night your friends had some months prior, when he found you behind the building with your head on your knees.  “Never feel bad, I’m serious.”  His voice was firm yet soft, revealing his intentions to make you feel as safe and protected as he could.  “I don’t care if we never have sex at all, or if it takes a long time.  I really don’t care.  As long as you’re… okay.  Healthy.”

You apprehensively peeked out from the blanket once more.  “Really…?”

“Really.”

The man bit down his surprise as light tears welled in the corners of your eyes.  You shuffled across the bed, closing the gap in between your bodies and wrapping him into a strong hug, the blanket shrouding his body as the two of you fell backwards onto his pillows.  You buried your head into his neck as his arms came to rest against the small of your back, holding you securely against him.  He could feel you grinning into him, tiny trickles of hot tears falling down the skin of your cheeks.

“I genuinely think you’re the best man I’ve ever met,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m just sorry you’ve had such bad experiences,” he uttered back, staring at the ceiling as he held you against him.

“Don’t get rid of the condoms,” you sighed.  “I have a feeling we’ll need them eventually.”

Law grinned, squeezing your form in his secure arms.  “On your own time.”

“On your’s, too.”

[patito-oward]

Always Been You

masterlist

Prompt: And the other is about how Pato falls in love with the reader, just how he says "oh yeah she's THE ONE"

since this prompt was pretty vague I took a lot of liberties with it, but I still hope you like it :)

Summary: After being dumped by his long term girlfriend, Pato realizes everything he’s ever wanted in a relationship has been right in front of him

WC: 4.1k

It happened very suddenly. Here’s the thing, Pato didn’t mean for it to happen at all. On the list of things he had planned for the year, this was definitely not on it. A 500 win? Definitely. A championship? Yep. Extending his contract with Mclaren? Right again. But starting the off season by being dumped by his long term girlfriend and realizing he’s in love with his best friend was not anywhere in his mind.

It all started at the last race of the season, Pato was leading the championship, and granted he got a podium on this race he would finally have his championship victory. To celebrate and support, almost everyone he knew came to Nashville. Pato rented out a block of rooms at a hotel, and one of the many people who showed up for him was his childhood best friend, YN.

So maybe it all started in 2008, when YN and Pato were in second grade and met on the playground at recess. YN was sitting on the swings reading a book when Pato approached her, he was new to San Antonio and didn’t have any friends, and wanted to know if they could be friends. From then on the two were inseparable. Pato was a daredevil at heart, and would often hurt himself, and YN would take the delicate time of walking him to the school nurse and kissing his injuries better. Pato always made YN laugh, and made sure she was never sad, no matter what happened in YN’s life, Pato was there everyday to make her smile.

As they got older their relationship changed, it lost a little bit of their childish innocence, but they grew so much closer. YN was at Pato’s first win in karting, and she was more excited than he was. When YN’s childhood dog died, Pato was at her house at 6:00 AM and spent the whole day with her, trying to cheer her up. They’d even started their own holiday traditions, every year on Christmas Eve, the two of them spent the day making cookies together and exchanged presents. YN had practically become family, she didn’t have the best home life, and the entire O’Ward family was so loving that she ended up spending more time with them than her actual family.

The two dated for a few months in eighth grade, and were each other’s first kiss, but when Pato began racing for F4 and was in France every weekend the two agreed it was best they just stayed friends. Since then that is all they had been, things in YN’s home got significantly worse as they went through high school and despite whatever Pato may have felt, he knew she needed his friendship and wasn’t willing to risk their relationship.

With Pato coming up through Indycar and YN being a full time student and having a job, it was easy to assume the two would drift after high school, that was never the case. They still saw each other everytime Pato was in Texas and Pato made sure YN made a couple of races every year. She remained his biggest supporter as he went from her hometown best friend to the most popular driver in Indycar.

Fast forward to now, things were going pretty perfect for Pato. He finally won the 500, he’s about to win the championship, and he’s got a great girlfriend, Maria. He figures he’ll marry her, he does love her, she’s supportive and nice and insanely hot. They’ve been dating for over a year and things have been going really well. The only time they’ve ever really fought is over YN, when she found out there was a “history” between them, and in hindsight Pato realizes maybe he should’ve told her sooner, but he never really thought about it. Yeah they’d dated for a few months a lifetime ago, but she’s always just been his YN, he doesn’t even think of her like that anymore. YN was one of the most sure things in his life, and sure for awhile he always thought what if?, but that was in the past.

All that being said, he didn’t think twice about inviting her to Nashville to watch him possibly win the championship. YN wasn’t able to make it to the 500, or any other race this year, and he wished she was there. She knew more than anyone how much this had meant to him, coming up after losses she was always the person he went to, and he wanted her to see him now that it had all been worth it. YN was reluctant to come, but after a lot of begging from Pato she agreed.

Thursday night he made sure everyone he invited out came to dinner with him at a steakhouse. There were 20 people at the restaurant, but Pato ended up with Maria sitting next to him and YN sitting across next to Elba. Maybe Pato should’ve realized it, the tension in her shoulders and how Maria’s smile tightened as he laughed at YN’s jokes, but he didn’t. So Maria sat there all night, and she really tried to be understanding, but she felt as if she was third-wheeling her own relationship. She had to listen to a million inside jokes she didn’t understand, and watch as his family fawned over YN.

It was at that dinner she realized that she’d spent a year dating a taken man. Pato was too good of a man, she knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it became undeniable. As she watched him, she realized everything she felt for him, he felt for the woman across the table. At first she felt possessive, the need to prove that he was her partner, and that no matter what he’d chosen her over YN, but as time passed she felt less possessive and realized that there was no way to continue the relationship. It wasn’t fair to her, she deserved a man who loved her and only her, and Pato deserved to be with the person he loves.

After the dinner, they headed back to the hotel where Pato, who was utterly clueless of her realization, continued to be the perfect man, only making it so much harder for Maria to leave. She didn’t know how long she should let it go on for, if she broke things off now would she be getting in his head and ruining the weekend for him? Would continuing a relationship she’s already checking out of be just as cruel? Could she stand the rest of the weekend watching her boyfriend making heart eyes at another woman?

After sleeping on it, or rather not sleeping very much at all, she’d come to the conclusion that a clean break was best for everyone. They ordered breakfast to the room and as they sat at the small dinette she knew she had to bring it up.

Pato was halfway done with his breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten much at all, mostly just pushing her food around with her fork. “Pato, I think we need to talk.”

It’s rare that she’s this serious, and Pato knows that can’t be good, his silverware clatters as he sets it down and looks up at her. “Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

She hesitates for a moment, not knowing the best way to start the conversation. “It’s YN.”

Pato’s shocked, he doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that, “What about YN?”

She figures there’s no reason to beat around the bush, “You’re in love with her.”

Pato’s a lot of things, surprised for sure, but also shockingly defensive and angry. “What? Babe, that’s ridiculous. I know you were upset about us in middle school, but I swear there’s nothing going on! I would never even think about cheating on you!”

She rested her hand on top of his, “I know you would never cheat on me, and I know you said there’s nothing and I believe you, but I saw the way you looked at her, and how she fit into your life, and it makes so much sense because you love her.”

Pato doesn’t really know what to say to that, “I love you.”

“But you are in love with her. Listen I love you, Pato, and you’re such a good man, but it’s not fair to either of us to continue this relationship. Not when your heart clearly isn’t in it.” Maria struggles over her words, voice cracking and eyes watering, but a soft smile is on her face as she says them.

“Are you saying what I think you are? You’re just giving up?”

“Pato, I’m letting you free, tell her how you feel, you deserve that kind of love.”

And maybe what she’s saying finally resonates with him because the best thing he says is, “I never meant to hurt you.”

She lets out a broken laugh at that, a single tear rolling down her face, “Oh, Pato, you never could, we aren’t meant for each other, but we still had a lot of fun, right?” He nods at her.

After that she’s on a plane and back to her home before he knows it. Pato’s sad, he feels a little empty, someone who had been such a big part in his life just walked out leaving the biggest mess in her wake. He thought about her words, but shook them off. He loved YN, of course he did, but it wasn’t like that, she was like a sister to him.

Although it’s not his sister he messages asking if she wants to come over. YN is at his hotel room within a minute of him sending the “you busy?” text. YN asks where Maria is, but all he has to say is “gone.” and YN knows to drop it.

YN knows him better than anyone, knows that he has an irrational fear of being destined to fail at every relationship. She knows he has never actually broken up with a girl, only ever been broken up with, and she knows he spent over two years single because he was afraid of being hurt. But she also knows that there’s no way anyone could spend more than an hour with him and not be in love with him, God knows she is.

It’s the way he knows her, inside and out, but it’s also the way he makes everyone around him laugh, and spends hours interacting with his fans to make them all happy, and how caring he is with animals and babies. YN is only human, how is she supposed to feel when her insanely attractive best friend is doting over her niece?

YN puts it all aside because she’s his best friend first, she’d made that promise to herself a long time ago and she’s always kept it. She sits with him and watches Friends reruns with him, he’ll talk when he wants to, but until then she’ll be by his side.

They don’t end up talking, the one good channel the hotel room has switches from Friends to Modern Family, and then Pato has to go practice. A quick google search helps her find the best tacos in Nashville, so while he’s gone she runs out to get them dinner. They had dinner plans with his parents and Elba, but YN texted Elba long ago to let her know that plans were changing. He’s a superstar, so of course he doesn’t let his life affect him and it still the fastest person in the first practice, YN thinks that’s a good sign.

When he returns he seems to be a little better, talking to YN about track conditions over their dinner. YN has had enough of waiting for Pato to bring it up, and she can tell he’s feeling better, so she has to work up the courage to ask him what happened.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Maria or am I supposed to guess?”

His smile drops, turning into one that’s much smaller and forced. “She just left.”

“No explanation? She just woke up and was gone?”

“Oh, she had an explanation but it was bullshit. She probably just got tired of me, it's no big deal.”

YN furrows her brows at that. “Pato stop it, you’re so great anyone would be so lucky to be with you. Maybe there was some merit behind what she said.”

“Well she said I was in love with you, but I told her so many times we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

YN’s stomach sinks at that, it’s not like she expected him to confess his love, but he didn’t need to friendzone her that hard. “Oh.” Is all she can think to say.

“I mean you’re great, but you’re like a sister to me!”

YN forces out a laugh, “Right.” She also can’t help but feel like maybe it’s her fault this all happened, was her pining really that obvious? “Well then, she’s stupid for leaving because she’s not going to find anyone better.”

Pato’s smile is genuine for the first time since the conversation started, “Thank you, you’re the best friend I could’ve asked for.”

“Right, and don’t forget that when you’re trying to figure out what to do with all your championship earnings.”

He lets out a real laugh at that, a stark contrast to how mopey he’d been the rest of the day. “One, greedy, and two, I’m not buying you anything else. I'm tired of you getting mad when I spend money on you.”

“Pato, a graduation gift is fifty bucks, not a two thousand dollar tennis bracelet.”

He leans back in his seat and shrugs, smirking as he says, “Yet I’ve never seen you not wearing the bracelet.”

YN’s eyes go to her wrist where, sure enough, the bracelet was, just like everyday for the past three years. When Pato gave her the bracelet she refused to take it, saying it was too much and he needed to return it. After arguing for ten minutes she thought he’d finally agreed to take the bracelet back, but found it later sitting on her dresser. “What can I say? You have good taste.”

The rest of the night mirrored the morning, but had a much different tone, the two of them sat sprawled out on the couch quoting the episodes of Friends that were on, having seen them so many times they were known by heart.

When YN went to her own hotel room Pato realized how empty the place felt again, something he hadn’t noticed all day. He chose not to think too hard about how effortlessly YN took up space in his life.

The next morning, Pato had already scheduled to have everyone meet in the lobby so he could take them to the track for the day. YN had clearly told everyone about Maria because despite some odd looks no one asked about her and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think twice when everyone began to split into different cars and he pulled YN along with him, or when they arrived at the track and Pato sent most people up into a suite, but brought YN and his immediate family to the pits. Maybe that’s how it’s always been, and how it’s supposed to be.

Pato gets swept up in work for the rest of the day and YN gets to spend some real time with her second family. As soon as they’re alone, Elba doesn’t hesitate to start interrogating her.

“What happened with Maria?”

“Apparently she told Pato he’s in love with me and just left.” YN shrugs as she says it, still a little puzzled by the whole thing.

“Huh.”

“What? No ‘huh’ I know what that means just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just thought Maria knew by now and didn’t care, maybe she’s not as smart as I gave her credit for.”

“What do you mean? Knew what?”

“Come on, YN, Pato’s been in love with you since you were nine, I wouldn’t want to be dating him.”

YN is struggling to process what she’s hearing, and automatically turns to deflection. “He is not.”

“Oh my god.” Elba starts giggling maniacally.

YN has no clue what could be funny, “What!?”

“You’re in love with him too!”

“I am not!” Despite her refusal, YN can feel and Elba can see the heat rising up her neck.

“You totally are! All this time I thought you had to know it’s so obvious, I mean, he follows you around like a puppy, but you had no idea!”

“Ok, keep your voice down.” YN puts her hand over Elba’s mouth really not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation. “Even if I did like him, and I’m not saying I do, he does not feel the same. I mean you should’ve heard how hard he friendzoned me yesterday.”

Elba looks sympathetic then, “Babe, I think my brother has spent so long denying himself what he wants he doesn’t even know what that is anymore. I love him dearly, but relationships are not his strong suit.”

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate because I am certainly not going to be the one to ruin our friendship.”

Elba’s exasperated, “Oh my god, you two are exhausting!”

By the time Elba finished her intervention, qualifying finished resulting in Pato getting the pole. Mclaren has been dominant the last few weekends, and this weekend is no different with all three cars in the fast six. Pato is in the driver’s lot, getting ready to head back to the hotel, everyone else had dispersed from the track, and Felix has tracked down Pato and is calling after him.

“Hey, Felix! What’s up?”

“Bro, you’re about to win this fucking thing.” There’s nothing but excitement from Felix for his best friend.

“I know, I just hope tomorrow is a clean race and we can bring this thing home.”

“You’ve got this, I know it. Hey, where’s Maria been all day?” Felix says it like he’s just realizing she’s not around.

“Who knows. Yesterday morning she woke up determined that I’m secretly in love with YN and got on the next plane out.”

“So you guys are done?”

“Yeah about as done as you can be.”

“And YN?”

“YN is my best friend.”

“No, I'm your best friend.”

“Sorry, Fro, even you lose to YN.”

“I don’t want to win what YN is winning.”

Pato rolls his eyes and stomps his foot, huffing, “And what exactly is YN winning?”

Felix puts his hands up in self-defense, “Listen, all I’m saying is if you looked at me like you do YN, I think Emille would feel threatened.”

“Very funny.” Pato kicks the ground, staring at his shoe, he thinks about his relationship with Felix versus his with YN, sure it’s different, but him and YN have so much history. “Look, I don’t know what I feel for YN, but I don’t care either because she’s too important as a friend for me to lose her.”

“Mate you’ve been practically dating for years, I don’t think making it official will ruin anything.”

With that last piece of advice Felix takes off, leaving Pato alone with his thoughts. The whole drive back to the hotel and the rest of the night he spent thinking about YN. If everyone closest to him is saying one thing, how could they all be wrong? He thinks about everything they’ve been through together.

His first win in karting when she was the first person he ran to when he got out of the car; how she comes to every family reunion and often traveled to Mexico to spend time with his family; their senior prom when she was sad about not having a date, but she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen that night; except for Christmas mornings when she’s in her pajamas and he gets to watch her eyes light up as they answer presents together. Maybe it’s been in front of him all along. What’s been missing from all of his other relationships has been right there.

It’s a lot to take in, but it doesn’t really matter because, like he told Felix, he wouldn’t risk their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same. He can handle a trail of failed relationships, but he could never handle losing YN. He went to bed that night knowing he had to just focus on the race and on bringing home the championship.

The next morning he’s awoken by a knock on the door. “Patricio! Open up, room service!”

He knows who’s behind the door before he opens it, there’s only one person who cares enough to bring him breakfast. When he lets YN in he sees the bag full of takeout food from a nearby diner. “Breakfast of champions, for the champion.”

Of course she’s already decided he’s a champion before the race. No one has ever believed in him as much as her. “Calm down, I don't want you to jinx me.”

“Au contraire my friend, a jinx would mean you’re winning by luck, and you are winning by sheer talent.”

It always amazes him how smart she is in the morning, he knows no more than 5 words for a solid hour after waking up, and she’s always speaking a million words a minute. “7AM is too early to be speaking another language.”

“Aw, pobrecito, ¿estás cansado?” She knew very minimal spanish, but had picked some up from time spent with his family, and used it pretty exclusively to tease him.

“You’re so not funny my brain hurts.” He is slouched over the table with his head resting on his arms.

She begins to unpack the food in front of him, “Alright, come on, time to wake up you’ve got a big day.”

The smell of eggs and bacon is what gets him to lift his head and start eating. He tries not to focus on the fact that she got him exactly what he eats every race day because that’s a can of worms he doesn’t want to touch. Regardless he eats the meal, and is sad when she pulls out her pancakes and begins to eat with him. She offers him a bite which he takes, but they both know he won’t eat any more than that because he doesn’t like big meals before a race.

After they finish, YN starts picking up their trash and Pato thanks her, “You take such good care of me, can’t believe you brought me breakfast I’m not worthy.” She’s glad for her back being turned to him because she can feel how much she’s blushing.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, leave it to YN to be the eye in his hurricane, bringing calm before the storm. The race was close, a shitty pit stop meant Pato had to make some big passes to make up position, but Pato ended up pulling away with the final race win of the season and the championship.

YN and Elba leave the suite a few laps early so they can be on pit lane when he gets the win. After his victory lap and celebratory donuts he pulls into pit lane. Immediately his crew is flooding around him as he struggles to get out. Once he does there’s a giant group hug around Pato. Rossi and Fro also both make their way to his pits to congratulate him.

When Felix pulls Pato into a hug he whispers into his ear, “Why haven’t you gone to your girl yet, she’s waiting for you.”

Felix’s words had weight to them, all these people were surrounding him, but none of them had been on this journey with him as long as her. She waited for him for the last 15 years while he chased a career and different women, and now he’s at the peak of his career, having everything he ever wanted, and she’s not the one by his side. It hits him like a ton of bricks how bad he wants her to be the one celebrating this win with him, and every win for the rest of his life. Walking over to YN he pulls her into a hug, hoping that everything he’s feeling can be conveyed through the touch.

YN is in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, I always knew you could do it.”

He can’t find the right words, so all he says is, “I’m so glad you’re here.” he’ll explain later.

Holding her in front of thousands of people, Pato isn’t scared of losing their friendship anymore. He’s not sure of a lot, but he knows they’ll be ok, and that he’s loved her since before he knew what love was.