#i didn't check the word count for this one oops

[vulpixisananimal]

"Eaaaasy Sif."

(Isabeau was helping you walk across your room. Stars, your legs still felt so weak, but, still you walked.)

"Oh this is anything but easy." (You joke.)

"-snrk- W-well if you can't walk we can try another day-"

"I can walk! I can!" (You say, pouting. You had made a deal that if you could walk to your door then you'd be healthy enough to finally leave your blinding room.)

"Well if You're sure!! I'll let you try by yourself, ok?"

(You nod, Isabeau let's go of your arm, and you took a step. So far so good. Let's try another.)

(Stardust, you look ridiculous~)

(You stumble a little, but catch yourself. Do you MIND?!?)

(Not at all, actually~)

"Are you alright?!?" (Isa asked, oh forever worrying.)

"M' fine, just, Loop being annoying."

"O-oh! Well let Sif be, alright! They're trying their best!!"

(Oh fine, I'll behave~)

"They say they'll behave."

(Isa smiles, you take another step, then another, just, a few more steps and. . . You trip as you make it to your door and you end up hanging onto the handle.)

". . . Eh, close enough." (Isa walked over and offered his hand. You took it.) "I'll help you downstairs."

"Yay!!" (Say the line.) "Thank you Mr. Amazinglywonderfullfunnybuffisabeau."

"!!!! S-Sif!!!" (He rubs his shoulder, blushing.) "Y-you can't just say that! I have-"

"-The heart of a delicate maiden?" (you wink, cheekily.) "Oh, I know~"

(Isabeau hides his face in his hands. Oh Stardust you flirt~)

(You TOLD me to do it!)

(And you did~)

"A-alright, alright, alright. A-are you ready to go now?"

"Yeah." (You smile.) "Ready now."

(Before you could respond, Isabeau scooped you up like you were a sack of flower. Now YOU were blushing.) "H-hey!!"

"No way you can tackle stairs, Sif." (Isa gets the door with his shoulder.) "You're taking the Isabeau Express!"

"S-stars. . ." (Ok, it wasn't that bad. Isa was big! And strong! And was carying you very gently. You held on less for dear life, but to try and calm your beating heart.)

(What's wrong, can't hanndle the big guy~?)

(YOU'RE NOT DOING ANY BETTER!!!)

(We'll I'M not so OBVIOUS about it!)

"Last stop comin up!" (Isa says as you two get down stairs.) "Please make sure you haven't left any luggage on your seat!"

(You hide your face in your hands.)

"What're you-" (That was Nille, she paused, then burst out laughing.)

"The Isabeau Express is NO laughing matter Pétronille!"

"S-sure-" (She was trying really hard to stop her laughter.) "Wh. well! Is it a luxary experience, Siffy?"

(You simply groan behind your hands. They both laugh a little.)

"A-alright I'll put you down, if you want."

(You, you really don't want to be put down, actually. This is really nice. You shake your head.)

(Oooooh look at youuuuuuu~)

"O-oh!" (You couldn't see it, but he was DEFFINATLY blushing.)

"Oh wow." (Nille punched Isa's shoulder.) "Look at you two, so sweet I'll get a toothache. C'mon, breakfast's ready."

(Oh Stardust, are you suuuuure you want to be caaaaried through where eeeeveryone can see?)

(Shut up shut up shut up PLEASE shut up.)

"Delivery!" (Isabeau yelled as he walked into the common area.) "Someone order a very tired Siffrin?"

(You braved looking from behind your hands, Mirabel, Odile, Bonnie, and. . . Ramos, where all starting on breakfast. Nille joined them.)

"-Snrk- G-good morning you two!!" (Mirabelle was trying REALLY hard not to laugh.)

"Why are you carrying 'Frin like apples?" (Said Bonnie, they were about to dig into some absolutly delicious looking pancakes.)

"I didn't want him to worry about the stairs!" (Isa responds.)

"And so you decided to carry them instead?" (Odile said from behind a book.) "Or is that just your excuse."

"I-It's not!!!"

"Wow Isa, not like you to make excuses." (Ramos says, cheekily.)

"I don't need excuses!!"

"Y-youcanputmedownnow-" (You mutter, stars, you're NEVER going to live this down.)

(Isa puts you down, finally. You stand for a moment, wobbly, before collapsing into a chair. Your familly claps.)

"VERY well done!!"

"So proud!! So cool!!"

"Quite a show, Siffrin."

"Thank you, thank you~" (You weakly give a wave, Stars, it was good to be around everyone again, even if it was a struggle.) "I've been practicing that performance all week."

"It's really impressive!!" (Mira says excitedly.) "That doctor said you'd be out for at least another week! It really is amazing!"

"Worst case of craft exhaustion she'd ever seen, right?" (Odile continues.) "Goes without saying, but you should be dead, Siffrin."

"I feel dead." (You get a bit more comfortable in your chair, oh stars, food.) "Oh, doctor?"

"Don't remember?" (Mira asks,) "W-well you were pretty out of it- Oh! We didn't tell her anything important don't worry!!"

"I knew you wouldn't." (You smile weakly.)

"Hey let Siffy eat, big celebration after all." (Nille says- oh stars there she goes pilling MORE food onto your plate.)

(Can we PLEASE eat already.)

(You dig in. Yummy!! Super yummy!! Oh stars, Bonnie must have gone all out for this!!)

"W-woah, careful Sif."

"Let them carbbing eat, 'Za!"

"Language."

"YOU'RE language."

(You try not to choke on your food as you laugh. It was nice, being around them all again, REALLY around them all. The past week had been. . . Blurry. You barely remembered anything. Sometimes you weren't you. Sometimes you could barely move. It was all just, so much.)

(But, you were back! You were back here! With good food, REALLY good food. Everyone was happy, everyone was safe, even. . .)

(You swallow your food and put your fork to the side. Right. You need to ask.)

"So. . ." (You look over at them.) "Ramos."

(They sink into their chair a little.) "S-siffrin?"

"Hey."

"Uh, h-hey!"

"So, I gotta say, what you did wasn't very nice."

(They look away.) "Y-yeah, I'm s-"

"But after a week to think about it?" (Joke time.) "I don't really Mind it at all~"

"NO!"

"BAD!!"

"BOOO!!"

"HAHA!! YES!!!"

(Ramos looks at you, perplexed, bewildered, beffudled; then bursts out laughing. Mission accomplished.)

(WOW, Stardust, you ~really~ are that forgiving, aren't you~?)

(No, you're not. But people deserve a second chance.)

(Ramos shakes their head.) "Haha. . . I-I, I am really sorry, Siffrin."

"Oh, we know." (You say, smiling.) "It really sucked, needing to retry the same day over and over and over again, friends memories changing, getting hurt. But hey, we got our happy ending after all."

(Ramos sunk down again, sheepish.) "S-sorry. . ."

"If it makes you feel any better, we've been through worse."

"That's not a good thing!!!" (Mira exclaims.) "Besides, Madame Odile worked really hard to make sure there wasn't any lingering mind craft on anyone."

"That I did." (Odile nods.) "It was more difficult than I thought, how someone changes a mind is much more intricate than changing a body."

"What bout that star?" (You ask.) "It wasn't a wish, was it."

"Well I'm no expert in wish craft." (Odile says while smugly holding up a hand.) "But the emblem only had extremely potent mind craft molded into it. Ramos?" (She gestures to the defender-in-training.)

"R-right." (They nod.)

"I, I got it from someone who came to visit the Defenders house one day. We met, he seemed nice, there was. . . Yeah there was someone with him too."

"What'd they look like?" (You ask.)

(They shook their head.) "Don't remember, I tried real hard, but, nothing. . ."

"You tried your best, and that's ok!!" (Mira said supportivley.)

(They smile, and continue.) "We talked, I must have said something, cause they asked about my Guardian, it was, it was. . ." (They snap their fingers.) "About the Island! North of Vaugarde!"

"Oh." (Yeah, of course it was the Island.) "Do you remember anything specific?"

"N-not really, they asked me a lot, about my guardian, about me, and gave me that emblem, saying it would grant my wish."

"Which was to be strong, like Isabeau." (You say.)

"W-well. . ." (They rub their shoulder.) "Yes and no? I-I mean I did! But, w-well. . . . . . . I was, worried, about, Changing. And how my guardian would take it. A new face, new name."

"O-oh!!" (Mira said, surprised. Did they not explain this to everyone yet?)

(They continue.) "T-they're really nice and accepting!! And said they'd accept me whoever I turn out to be, but, b-but. . ." (They pause, as if considering something.)

". . . Are you sure you're okay talking about it? Rams?" (Isa says, well, maybe HE knew about it. They were good friends, after all.)

"Nono, I'm, I'm ok, with sharing it." (They breathe in, and out.) "I'm. . . I'm from Poteria, and, my parents there weren't, weren't the nicest people. When I found out about Changing and, brought it up to them they. . ."

(There was a cold pause, Mira looked worried, Isa supportive, and Nille. . . Nille looked, well, you couldn't place that look.)

(Ramos continues, finally.) ". . They didn't take it well. So, I cut my losses, and ran away. Don't remember much, untill I met my Guardian, Aunya, they were from that Island, back then people remembered it still. They were my real parent."

"That's. . ." (Mira starts.)

"That's great!" (Nille says.) "Glad you found a good place!!"

"Heh, thanks." (They're smiling.)

(. . . You missed a lot, didn't you.)

(Look at your friends, they're cracking jokes, chatting, smiling like nothing happened. It's been a week, have you even realized that yet?)

(. . .)

(And for us, it was so much more~ We spent so long fighting this. . . This coward, trying to figure out what has happening, why it was happening. I was stuck, here, needing to deal with this while you were struck down with that blinding mind craft!)

(They deserve a second chance? That's what you're going to tell me? After All of MY hard work?!?)

"Siffrin?" (You look up, Mirabelle was talking to you.) "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" (You look down, oh, you were gripping your wrist, your knuckles were pale.) "O-oh, yeah, sorry. . ."

"What's going on, Sif?" (Isa asks. You look away.)

(Stars. . . What do you say?)

(What DO you say, Stardust~ Tell them you don't trust Ramos? Their new friend? Or do you suck it down again. Just wait untill it eats, you, alive.)

". . . It's. . ." (You breathe in, and out.) "Just, hard to believe."

"Huh?"

(You continue.) "That it's, over."

". . ."

"Ah. . ."

"O-oh!"

"It's just, over." (You keep breathing.) "It was that easy, there wasn't any burnt sugar, no twist, no reason to be forced back again. Just, snap that emblem and. . ."

"Well there is still the question of who gave it to Ramos, and why." (Odile adds.)

"Timing, M'dame"

"Ah, r-right."

(You shook your head.) "N-no, no there is still that, just. . . It's just, hard, for us to get over." (Hard to get over how Ramos is just, here.)

". . ." (Ramos fiddled with his utensils before speaking.) ". . . Is. . . Is there any way I can, help with that?"

(You don't respond right away. How? How could they help? It wasn't exactly their fault. Well, it was. But they are sorry, and it seems like they do want to help. Stars, what a turnaround.) "Doubt it. It'll just, take time."

"A-alright. . ."

(. . . Let's just move on.) "A-alright, well, is there anything else I should know Ramos?"

"O-oh! Right!" (They nod, and continue.) "I don't remember if those people who gave me the star told me where they're going next. Sorry."

"You shouldn't appoligise." (Odile says.) "Your mind has as many holes as Siffrins right now."

"Hey!" (You say, pouting.)

(Ramos chuckles.) "I guess, b-but uh, speaking of that, just so you know, full transparency and such. I, do still know some Mind Craft. S-sorry."

(Oh. Ew. You make a face.)

"N-nothing as strong as before!! I promise!!"

"Right, right." (You twiddle your fork.) "Just, no touch."

"Yessir." (Ramos nods.) "That's, that's basicly everything I know."

"Well it's a few questions answered." (Nille says, leaning back.) "Just wondering who those two crabbing idiots who started this were."

"And if they're gonna cause more trouble." (Isabeau adds.)

". . . That's it!" (Mirabelle perks up.) "That'll be our new little quest!! The mystery of the mind craft duo!!"

(You look up at her in shock.) ". . . What?"

"Oh!! I LOVE that idea!!!" (Isa joins in.) "Traveling aimlessly could be so BORING, but a mystery? Oh man, it would be right out of a story book!!"

"You guys are weird." (Bonnie says between bites.)

"I have to agree with the kid." (Odile replies.) "But, the idea is novel."

(Ramos looks like they're about to say something, then stops, looking back down.)

(. . . You're not serious Stardust.)

(What, I didn't even think anything~)

(Yes you did!! Are you insaine!?!)

(Yes, yes we are.) "Do you want to come with us, Ramos?"

"H-HUH!?!" (Ramos looks up, surprised.) "Wh-huh??? What??? Me?!??"

"OH GREAT IDEA!!!" (Isabeau says.) "I think you'd have a great time!!"

"Our first destination could be visiting your guardian." (Odile adds.) "And we'd be able to support you if they do not."

"It would be fun!!" (Mira is bouncing in her seat excitedly.)

"I-I dunno. . . I'll think about it." (Ramos says, looking up at you, then away.)

"Take your time!! It's a big decision after all." (Isa says. He gives you a look of thanks, probably for offering to invite them along.)

(I wish I'd strangled you, Stardust.)

(Try winning next time.)

"But first, Siffrin needs to rest up." (Odile looks over at you.) "And we do need to talk about your health."

(You groan.) "Do we gotta?"

(Yes, Stardust~)

"Yes, Siffrin. (Odile echoes.) "Both physically and mentally."

(You wince.) "R-right, we, we would like to avoid passing out for a week."

"You nearly died, Siffrin!!" (Isa exclaims.) "Please please promise me to be careful with time craft? Please?"

"I-I, whuh-" (You blink. What?)

"I doubt they remember." (Odile looks away from you.) "You had a heart attack, Siffrin, likely from extreme exhaustion. A-and. . ." (She pauses, considering her words.) "Because you nearly died, I had, to stop you from looping."

"Oh. . ." (Like, like before.) "But, wouldn't that have, not been that-"

"Siffrin if you died there where would you have looped back to." (Odile leans over to you, looking you in the eye.) "The moment you woke up. Woke up having a heart attack. What do you think would have happened then?"

(Oh.)

(O-oh. . .)

(You look down, you were holding your wrist again. The temperature had dropped to Sub-Zero temperatures. If, if she didn't. . .)

". . . T-thank you, Odile."

(She sighs, back to her book.) "Please, just be more careful. Mirabelle, please, I'm done talking."

"O-oh!" (Mirabelle perked up.) "O-ok! Right! So! S-so for one Madame Odile has been looking into some really strong medicine to try and limit craft exhaustion. For emergencies only though!!"

"Ideally we won't need you to loop ever again, really." (Isa mumbles.)

(You nod.) "F-fair, it's, it's really not a nice experience."

(But what if you start looping again~)

(. . . Right.) "Actually, should we get a codeword for if I'm looping again?"

"Oh!!!"

"Smart!"

"Like a secret spy or something?!?" (Bonnie says excitedly.)

"Haha! Yeah exactly like that. How about. . ."

(Loop?)

(. . . Back to the stage.)

"Back to the stage." (You finish, before realizing what you just said.)

"Huh. . ."

"Uh, cute!"

"Oh!!" (Bonnie raises a hand.) "'Cause it's like you're acting? Like in one of those plays?"

"U-UH-" (Wow ok! You didn't expect Bonnie of all people to get that!) "Y-yeah! Yeah cause we're acting things out, yeah!"

(There was a general nod of agreement. A good codeword. Stars, for such a nice breakfast you sure did need to deal with a lot of existentialism and anxiety. You go to finish up your food, glad that's over-)

"Oh! One more thing, Sif?" (Mirabelle asks.)

(HAH!)

(You wince, and finish your bite.) "Uh, yeah?"

"Is, there someone else around? You are saying 'we' a lot."

(Wuhoh. You sink down in your chair.) "O-ohright."

"Around?" (Ramos says from organizing their utensils for the nth time.)

"OH!!" (Mira puts her hands to her mouth.) "U-Uh!! Right, uh, I-I'm sorry I didn't think about-"

"I-if this is private, I can go."

(You look between Mira, Ramos, and the others at the table. Stars, what a thing to jump on you! You did promise you'd be more vulnerable, but-)

(STARDUST! You barely know Ramos! It took you months to work up the courage to tell your family. Are you sure you aren't being mind controlled still~?)

(You massage your temple. Great. Headache.)

"s-sorry. . ." (Mirabelle says, looking down.) "I, didn't mean to-"

"You're fine, loops just being a bitch." (ME? being a WHAT?!? I'm trying to keep you from being an IDIOT Stardust! Stars above you are so DENSE!!) "They're cranky because I'm better at talking to people than them."

(WHAT?!?)

(The others at the table laugh, except Ramos, who still looked confused. You said you'd explain to them another time. Whenever that time might be, if ever.)

(But right now, you were hungry.)

(You needed a rest.)

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 2

In which something a little more serious and a lot more meaningful than either of you anticipated starts to blossom between you and your curly haired crush.

Warnings: nothing, this is so tooth achingly fluffy, you may need a trip to the dentist afterwards. Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 5.3k (oops)

Master List

(quick note in case anyone is paying super close attention. i switched the job reader has at McLaren to fit this bit of plot in. I think switched all mentions over in part one, but just in case you notice the different job title, that was on purpose :) )

yourusername (private) posted:

110 likes liked by landonorris, BFFSarah, coworkerMolly, and others yourusername scenes from the longest winter break ever landonorris is Stella baking me more cookies??? >>>yourusername she gave all gingerbread men mullets 'just like lando', what do you think? >>>landonorris thats my girl!! coworkerMolly that skirt on you is INSANE btw >>>yourusername ;)

The holidays slip away in a blur of presents and hot cocoa dates with Stella so fast that before you know it, school is beginning again and you're forced back into the office on a regular basis. With the way the holidays fell this year, you ended up taking nearly two weeks of annual leave between Christmas and New Years and while you appreciated the time off to reset and battle burnout your job inevitably brought on, by the time you dropped Stella off at school that first morning, you were near ecstatic with relief.

You didn't want to admit it to anyone, not even barely to yourself, but you also had missed Lando. He'd spent Christmas at his parents for a few days before jetting off to somewhere gorgeous and warm with his friends and while he texted you near constantly, you often found yourself wondering what he was doing. You hated how much you looked forward to the chime on your phone alerting you to a new text but even more, you hated how much your heart stuttered in your chest every time you saw it was his name that was lighting up your phone.

You had told Sarah about running into Lando at Harrods that Saturday and then made the mistake of telling her that he had bought the booster seat (downright refusing to allow you to even split the cost it with him) and driven you home. She had grinned like a cat with warm milk, saying she knew something was going on but was wildly excited when you told her about the drive home.

Like you had predicted, Stella had been fast asleep by the time Lando had merged onto the freeway. She had stayed sound asleep even after you had reached your house, Lando allowing his Range Rover to idle for nearly twenty minutes in your driveway as you chatted. The conversation was quiet, neither of you wanting to wake a sleeping Stella but it flowed as easily as champagne on New Years Eve.

As you sat in the passengers seat of the SUV you couldn't help the way your mind wandered into the 'what ifs' of what was happening here. What if everything hadn't been ruined the moment Lando found out that Stella was yours? What if that, despite everything being against you, this was the time it all worked out. They were dangerous thoughts, especially for a single mom who couldn't allow her heart to be compromised. There was another heart that had to be taken into consideration: Stella's fragile six year old heart. So when Lando had started allowing his gaze to wander down to your lips and leaning almost imperceptably closer towards you with each passing moment, you had ignored his advances. You didn't want to, but you were scared. The what if's scared you but the what ifs not working out scared you even more.

You had slipped out of the car before anything could happen, thankful for the fact that Stella began to finally stir after nearly 30 minutes of you and Lando talking.

After that night, the texting had started and while Lando hadn't visted the MTC since, he had made a point to check in with you a few times each day. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, reminding himself of how you had ever so subtly rejected his advances the night he had taken you and Stella home.

As he had been analyzing the evening the next day with Max, his best friend had all but warned him off of you. 'Being with a single mom is a challenge that I don't think you're up for, mate.' Had been his warning, a warning that Lando had so far, chosen to ignore. He knew it was kind of a crazy thing to consider, especially with the lifestyle that he had become accustomed to over the last few years, but there was something magnetic about you. The way you sacrificed everything in order to make sure Stella was taken care of. The way you took on everything solo despite having a solid support system, because you didn't want to be a burden to anyone. The way you still managed to find magic in a life that had to be full of heartache and difficulties.

You were a magnetic force to be reckoned with and the fact that you had opened up to Lando that night in the car while Stella slept soundly in his back seat was something that he cherished.

It was also why he found himself nervously pacing outside of Sarah's office one January morning after he had returned from his vacation in Finland. The new season was fast approaching and it was time to get down to business and spend more time in the sim and at the MTC, making sure he was ready to give everything for the 2025 season. But he also had other reasons to be at the MTC even more: you.

Sarah is in her office that chilly January morning when she hears shuffling outside her door. It's propped open so all it takes is a quick peek outside. "Lando?" She calls, spying the driver hovering outside her door, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he paced the empty corridor.

"Oh. Hi. Sorry." Lando pushes his curls off his face, stepping into the brightly lit office. "Am I interrupting? I can totally come back..."

Sarah nearly laughs at the anxious energy radiating off of Lando but manages to quell it, not wanting to spook him. "No, it's fine. What can I do for you?"

"I...well..." Lando cards his hand hand through his hair once again, searching for the right words. He hadn't gotten the best reception from Max when he opened up about his feelings for you, so he was really nervous about what your best friend was going to say. He didn't want to get told off by her too. "I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor?"

Sarah smirks. "Does this favor have to do with our favorite single mom who works down the hall?"

Lando goes crimson at the question but a bit of him feels relieved at the smile that plays on Sarah's face. "Uh...It does actually. I was wondering if you would be willing to babysit Stella Saturday night so I could take her out to dinner and maybe a movie or something."

Sarah pushes away from her desk, the look on her face transforming from smug to soft admiration. "You really like her, don't you?"

Lando nods earnestly, "I do. Stella kind of threw me for a loop there at first but after spending time with them before Christmas..." He drops the rest of the sentence then, not sure if he should be opening up this much to your best friend. She probably knew how you felt about him already but it was a natural reaction for him to keep his feelings closely held. "I know our lifestyles are not exactly...compatible but she's amazing and I just want to spend more time with her."

"You'd be lucky to land a girl like her, Lando." Sarah observes, leaning back in her chair. "And while I agree, your lifestyles are radically different, I think you two could be good for each other."

"Yeah?" Lando's voice is a wash of relief, having expected to face the same criticism that he had faced from Max.

"Yeah, I do. I'd be happy to take Stella for the night as long as she's okay with it. Have you asked her?"

Lando shakes his head. "I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first."

"Can I give you some advice though?" When Lando nods, Sarah continues. "You're going to have to be patient with her. She's been through a lot and she has a lot on her shoulders. She doesn't need someone adding to that load. She needs someone who's going to help her carry that load, take some things off her shoulders. And if that's not something you think you can do, don't even start anything with her. If you're not all in with her and Stella, please don't pursue anything further, okay?"

Lando leans against the door frame, taking in your best friend's words. "I'd never do anything to add to what she already carries." He says softly and Sarah grins.

"Good. Tell her I'll take Stella for one of our famous sleepovers, yeah? Treat her well, Lando. I don't want to have to kick your ass if you hurt her."

"Thanks, Sarah. I'd never hurt her, I promise."

"Good. Now get, I think she's leaving after lunch today to get Stella for a dentist appointment. She should still be in her office though."

yourusername (private) posted a story:

replies: BFFSarah oh my GODDDDDDDD! you're going to give the poor boy a heart attack. >>>yourusername stoppppp, i'm so nervous. >>>BFFSarah not as nervous as he was when he was in my office on Tuesday asking me to babysit Stella ;) landonorris well hello pretty girl. is that outfit for me? >>>yourusername maybe ;)

"Wait, so you were the one who came up with the idea for that tire deg prediction program?" Lando stares at you from across the table, jaw nearly hitting the white linen tablecloth.

You blush into your wine, not good at taking compliments. The small Italian restaurant that Lando had booked a table at was quiet and cozy, allowing both of you to focus on the person sitting across from you and not anything else. It was nice, getting out of the house without Stella in tow. As much as you adored your daughter and valued every single second spent with her, sometimes it was really nice to have some time away. You were on your second glass of wine and your head was buzzing delightfully, the look on Lando's face as you fell into conversation about the work you were so passionate about sent something that felt a lot like desire curling deep in your belly.

"That was me. I'm actually working on an improved model for the upcoming season. More inputs like weather and historical degradation data should help the model give Andrea and the team a better idea of when the ideal pit window for you and Oscar will be in real time."

Lando just stares at you, dumbfounded. He had known bits and pieces of your job from the time he spent accosting you with questions over the last six months but he had never realized how deeply ingrained you were in his weekend routine already. "That program helped me win Miami last year." He says, totally awestruck.

You fidget under his attention, barely hiding a smile. When you had stumbled upon data analytics and predictive modeling in your first semester of uni all those years ago, you had never imagined it would lead to you writing a program that helped an F1 team predict how and when the tires were going to go off during a race. It was just one of many projects you had worked on in your two years at McLaren but it was absolutely the one you were most proud of.

"Well, hopefully with the improved modeling system I've been working on, we can get you and Oscar onto that top step more this year. I have a meeting with Zak and Andrea next week actually to discuss putting more resources into it so we can further develop it."

"I don't know how you can improve on it, the data I've seen it produce is already wildly helpful." Lando has to resist the urge to cover your hand with his, the need to touch you suddenly overwhelming.

He had been so nervous tonight while driving over to your house to pick you up for dinner, it was a wonder he hadn't ended up in a ditch or something. Stella had already been whisked away by Sarah by the time he got to your house, but there was a (albeit a bit stale) gingerbread man with a curly mullet left on the counter for him. 'Stella gave me strict instructions to make sure you get your cookie.' You had informed him, face serious with the task at hand.

Now that you were sat across from him, plate of food sat half eaten in front of you, Lando found himself not as nervous as he thought he'd be. The butterflies were still there and he had to constantly keep the desire to lace his fingers with yours in check, but the way you had made him feel calm and comfortable during the time he visited you in your office before had simply transferred to dinner tonight. He'd never felt more at ease with someone who made him so nervous before and while it was an uneasy feeling, it also felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"I didn't realize anyone beyond the strategy team used the models." You admit.

Lando likes the way your cheeks flush under his praise, even if you're still refusing to meet his eyes while he compliments you.

"Will and I go over all that data after session. With how unpredictable the tires can be from day to day, I really depend on that information."

"Well, I'm glad my little data project is doing its job." You say simply, before taking another bite out of the food before you.

The rest of dinner passes in casual conversation and meaningful looks exchanged over drinks and dessert. If having dinner with Lando and Stella in London had been fun, this dinner was certainly a more intimate affair. It wasn't until your third glass of wine that you settled into the feeling that there could be something between you and Lando, allowing the fear to take a back seat even for just one night.

"Can I ask you something?" You ask boldly while dessert is being placed in front of you.

"Anything."

And he means it.

"I know the first time you found your way into my office was by mistake but I've always wondered why you kept coming back. I mean, my office is literally on the opposite side of any place you'd ever be normally."

"Besides the fact that you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life?" He flirts shamelessly, the alcohol in his system making him braver than he really felt.

"Lan..." You scold, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

Lando chuckles and finally loses the battle he's been fighting all dinner. He reaches across the table and slips his fingers into the spaces between yours, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of your hand. The spark that ignites when he touches you has the breath catching in the back of your throat. "Because you talked to me like a normal person. It was right around the time the championship race was heating up, as manufactured by the press as it was. The team was a bit in shambles and I just felt really unsupported."

He doesn't have to say it, but you instinctively know he's talking about the Hungary race earlier in the year. The Wednesday after that race, Lando had popped up in your office first thing in the morning and had sat across from you until well after lunch. The way his shoulders hunched and he kind of just folded himself into the desk chair that you now kept specifically for him had broken your heart.

"You never asked me about racing or the championship or anything like that. You let me talk and ask questions about your job and I was just able to forget the outside world for a bit. I was never Lando Norris, McLaren Formula 1 driver competing with Max Verstappen with you. I was just 'Lan'. I really appreciated that, especially during the second half of the season."

You had become his safe space was what he wanted to say but fear kept that bit of information from passing his lips. For now.

The warmth of Lando's fingers tangled with yours travels through your entire body. "I'm glad I helped." You murmur, heat pooling low in your belly at the look he's giving you from across the table.

"More than you know."

"Okay. No, I understand. Yes, she was fine when I dropped her off this morning. Okay. Yes, thank you. Tell her I'm leaving work right now, I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Thank you, Ms. Rose."

Panic floods your chest as you stare at the computer screen in front of you. "Fuck." You whisper, frantically looking up the phone number for Zak's personal assistant. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"That is a lot of swearing for 10 in the morning on a Wednesday."

Your eyes fly from your computer screen to the door of your office where Lando stands, leaning against the doorframe looking unreasonably handsome in a green jumper and jeans. You couldn't admire him for long though, panic returning to the front of your mind as you desperately try to figure out what you're going to do.

"Stella's school just called." Lando immediately crosses the room and sits down in 'his' chair, as he's begun to think it. Ever since your date last Saturday night, he hasn't been able to get you off his mind. He's been at the MTC every morning this week, something that even Zak noticed this morning and made a comment about him being extra dedicated to getting the new season started off on the right foot. If only he knew the real motivation for being around all the time now. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd spent any time back at his other apartment in Monaco.

"Everything okay?"

"No, she's running a fever. They need me to come get her except remember that meeting with Zak and Andrea I told you about? It's in..." Your eyes flicker back to your computer screen before bouncing back up to meet Lando's concerned gaze. "Fifteen minutes. I'm going to have to cancel and God knows when I'm ever going to get this kind of face time with either of them before the start of the season. Without their support, the upgrades to that tire deg model I want to make will basically be dead in the water."

Normally, you handle the pressures of being a single mom pretty well. You realize your career trajectory is a little different than normal, with you being unable to work late or travel extensively or do any of the other things that usually help with job advancement and you made your peace with that a long time ago. You make enough to provide very comfortably for Stella, so when you're passed over for promotions or unable to dedicate extra time, you're usually fine with it. Not today though.

"I've been prepping for this meeting for weeks. Weeks, Lando. Sarah is on annual leave in Spain and my dad is in London today with a client, there is literally no one else to go get her. Today of all fucking days." Tears threaten to spill over, you're so frustrated. You've worked so hard to get this meeting and now it's all going to go to waste.

"I'll go get her." The way Lando says it has shock slicing through your heart, quick as a knife. He says it so casually, like you're silly for not even considering him.

"What? No, Lando, I can't ask that of you."

"You're not asking, I'm offering." Lando stands, pulling out his phone. "Text me the address of her school and I'll go get her. I drove my Rover this morning and guess what I still have in the back seat?" A brilliant smile flashes across his face.

Something stills in your chest at the fact that Lando left your daughter's booster seat in his car after all these weeks.

"Lan..."

"I don't want to hear any more arguments, mama."

Well that was certainly something you'd have to unpack your reaction to later.

"Are you sure?" You bite at your lower lip and Lando has to physically restrain himself from kissing you right there in your office. Something which he still hasn't done, as much as it was killing him. After dinner the other night he had wanted to kiss you more than anything but he hadn't wanted to rush you, Sarah's words echoing in his head. How he needed to be patient with you and how you'd bene through so much the past few years so he had chickened out, erring on the side of caution and had settled for a hug and quick press of his lips to your cheek instead. He had regretted it every moment since dropping you off at your door that night.

"Absolutely. Now, go call Ms. Rose back and tell her Lando Norris is coming to get Ms. Stelly Belly. Do you have a spare key for me? I'll take her back to your place and we'll watch movies 'til you can get home."

An unfamiliar sense of calm settles over you at the sound of confidence in Lando's voice. You don't let just anyone take care of Stella, especially when she's sick. Really, the only other two people that you'd ever trust with her are Sarah and your dad. That list now was a list of three, you supposed.

"Okay." You reply weakly. "Thank you, Lando. Seriously. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you."

"Go get ready for your meeting, pretty girl." Without a second look, Lando turns and walks out of your office. Moments after he gets into the lift to head to his car, his phone chimes with a text from you giving him the address to Stella's school.

A few hours later, you slot the key to your front door in the lock, swinging the door open as quietly as you can manage. From the entryway, you can hear the TV playing in the living room on the other side of the house.

Just in case Stella is asleep, you don't announce your presence opting to tip toe towards where you think Lando and Stella will be instead. The sight that greets you when you finally spy them has your heart clenching painfully, stealing the breath straight out of your lungs. The couch is perpendicular to where you stand, so you can just see Lando's profile as he sits, cheek tilted down resting gently on Stella's head as he watched Frozen playing on the TV in front of him. Stella is cuddled up in his lap, her arms thrown around his shoulders and her little head is buried deep in the crook of his neck. Lando's arms are wrapped securely around your little girl as he cradles her to his chest.

You rub at your sternum, desperatly trying to massage the ache that has settled there at the way Stella is curled up into Lando for comfort. You've never seen her do this with anyone other than you. Not even Sarah.

Lando senses when you walk into the room, having not even heard the door open moments before. Stella sleeps soundly against him, her warm breath tickling at the space between his neck and shoulders. They hadn't been home longer than twenty minutes when Stella had started to cry because she felt so poorly. When Lando had offered her a cuddle to make her feel better until you could get home, Stella had crawled right up into his lap and fell asleep before Anna even had a chance to build that snowman.

He was surprised at how comfortable this felt, with Stella seeking comfort from him. How easily it had come for him to just wrap his arms around her frame so she'd stop crying. He was pretty sure he'd do anything to get your little girl to stop feeling sad.

Lando turns to you after a few moments and smiles. Something passes between you then, with Stella asleep in front of you. It's powerful and reassuring and everything that you've been waiting for since the day you had realized you'd be raising Stella on your own.

"I think I finally got her fever down." Lando whispers, not wanting to wake Stella up.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even tell you where the paracetamol is in the house." Your hand flies back to your throat in horror.

"It's okay. Stella told me where it was. My mom helped me figure out the dosage for her."

"Your mom?" You squeak, swaying on your feet.

Lando chuckles. That had been an interesting call. He hadn't had the time to explain to her exactly why he was asking for help to figure out how much paracetamol to give Stella but he was panicked, the school being unable to give her a dose of anything and her fever was going up. She had been confused, but helped without further question.

"It's fine. We got it figured out and then I turned Frozen on and she fell asleep pretty quick after that. I haven't found the thermometer yet but she feels a lot cooler than she did earlier."

For a moment, all you can do is stare at Lando. It unnerved you how comfortable he was with her. Not in a bad way but in a completely unexpected way that had goosebumps littering your skin.

"How'd the meeting go?" Lando breaks the silence after a few moments.

Your eyes snap from Stella's sleeping frame to meet Lando's gaze. He made no attempt to move Stella off his lap or hand her over, just kept his arms securely around her while he waited patiently for your answer. He could tell you were trying to wrap your head around what you were looking at and he was hoping it was a good thing. He knew you weren't used to people stepping up for you, the close inner circle you kept was very small, but he hoped that after today you'd maybe let him in a little more.

"Oh..." You pause, struggling to focus on anything other than the sight in front of you. "Good actually! Zak was super impressed with what I've got done so far. He wants me to go to Bahrain later in the month for testing with the team to test the program first hand. And he wants me to go to a few races too"

"Baby," Lando coos, reaching out a hand to capture your fingers with his. Your heart squeezes at the pet name as you barely hold in the squeal at the nickname. "I'm so proud of you, that's amazing."

Tears threaten at the edge of your vision. It had been a long time since someone other than your own father had told you that they were proud of you. "I called my dad and him and my step mom are going to watch Stella whenever I need to travel and whatever they can't cover, I'm going to hire a nanny."

It had been Zak's idea to hire the nanny, a suggestion that nearly bowled you over when he made it. He knew your situation and had wanted to make sure that you were able to travel while being comfortable with leaving Stella with someone.

"Zak offered me a raise to help offset the cost of hiring someone." You say quietly, reflecting on how insistent the man had been when you waffled at the thought of traveling more this season.

The thought of getting to travel with you this season, even if it was solely for work, was so appealing to Lando it was a little silly. He had been thinking the other night how much it was going to suck having to travel so much this year just as things were getting started with you. He usually loved losing himself in the season, not having anything hold him back or weigh him down from enjoying the constant moving and sleeping in different hotel rooms every weekend. But as the season had approached and the prospect of spending less time with you had started to become a reality, the thought of the start of the season had filled Lando with a bit of dread and anxiety.

You just sat there for a moment, smiling over at Lando and Stella as he grinned back at you. It was a comfortable silence as that same feeling from earlier crackled through the air. Like something was being set into motion today that neither of you quite understood but both knew was the start of something important.

"It's almost dinner time. Why don't you go put her down in her bed, she sleeps like this whenever she's sick, and I'll make us dinner?" You suggest finally, realizing your stomach is begging to be fed.

Lando follows your suggestion and within a few minutes, is joining you in the kitchen as you bustle about trying to figure out what to make. "I was going to make some chicken noodle soup, I think I have everything for it and Stella loves it when she's sick."

"Considering I was going to be ordering take away tonight, anything you want to feed me is good." Lando murmurs, coming to stand behind you at the counter as you peel some carrots and chop the onions.

His arms slip around your waist and you can't help but lean back into his warmth for a moment, enjoying the way the heat of his body seeps into your muscles. Lando nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you as deeply as he can, trying to commit your scent to memory. He wants to remember every little detail about this evening, something calm and steady settling into his bones as he gets a glimpse of what could be.

"You're distracting me." You mumble, the heat of Lando's breath tickling the sensitive skin at your neck.

"I"m sorry, but you're a constant distraction to me so consider it payback."

You chuckle, putting down the knife so you can spin around to face Lando instead. Your arms snake up his body before you clasp them behind his neck, enjoying the way he melts even further into your body now that you're closer.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue today." You whisper, voice raspy with emotion as you think about how much Lando's done for you in the short time you've been spending time with him.

Lando bumps his nose with yours and grins, the way you feel in his arms is something he's never experienced before. "I'd do anything for you and Stella, you know that."

"After today, I certainly do."

The look Lando gives you turns your core molten and you struggle to catch your breath. Gazing up at him through your lashes, you drop your gaze down to his lips before they flit right back up to those green blue watercolor eyes that always seem to find you wherever you are lately. Before you can steady yourself, he's leaning forward eyes locked on yours. The smile that sits at the corner of his mouth is so utterly enticing, you nearly forget your own name.

When Lando covers your lips with his for the first time, you swear you see stars. Gold bursts of light spark behind your closed lids, your entire world stuttering down to the way Lando kisses you. It's full of promise and longing and the smokey taste of desire. Your hands tangle through his curls on their own accord as you desperately try to get impossibly closer to him, losing all sense of decorum and control with just a simple kiss.

When he pulls away, Lando is satisfied at the heavy lidded look you stare up at him with, heart hammering in his chest like he's just finished the Singapore Grand Prix.

"I've been thinking about that since I left you at the door on Saturday without kissing you." He confesses, forehead tipping forward to rest on yours.

Emotion clogs your throat as you struggle for a response. Warmth pools deep in your belly as you settle on just a simple nod in response, knowing that Lando will instinctivly be able to tell that you feel the same. Silence fills the kitchen, comfortable and easy as Lando kisses you again. Both of you could feel it with that second kiss, this thing happening between you on this random Wednesday afternoon and both of you were secretly scared to death at what this was going to mean for every facet of your lives.

Tag list: @shelbyteller , @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @eloriis @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @bibissparkles @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @glitteryturtledeer @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx

[ivyasproperty]

Light In The Dark.

wanda.m x fem!avenger!reader

summary — you've always had problems with your eyes, so why is it there's something, specifically someone standing so brightly in front of you?

warning(s) : idfk im too tired to check

word count : 2.1k

A/N : took a 2 month break bc i was lazy oops </3, i also didnt know wtf to call the aura so i called it spiritual powers teehee

You were born with a mysterious disease that not even the worlds best doctors could diagnose, you knew this since you were a a toddler, and yet, you couldn't help but get frustrated every time it passed your mind.

Your disease was special, it messed with your eye sight. Yes, you could see, but in your eyes, everything was in a darker hue. What was supposed to be the crystal blue sky on a sunny day, looked like a rainstorm during night.

So of course it made sense you were frustrated, your disease has affected your life is so many ways. You've lost jobs at café's or restaurants for not being able to see the menu, the pages being too dark to see the words written across it, you've lost jobs at business companies, bosses complaining your progress was too slow. Sure the glowing white light from the computer helped, but only slightly.

And so of course you were surprised when Nick Fury, founder of SHIELD, presented an opportunity for you to join the Avengers. You were hesitant at first, not understanding why they'd invite a person like you. But you were then informed that your powers, that being your hindered eye sight, could detect spiritual power. You were confused... spiritual power? How the hell were you supposed to detect that?

As if reading your mind, the one-eyed man told you that a person who possessed spiritual power would emit an aura that only you would be able to see. The more spiritual power that person had, the brighter the aura would be. He explained you would be a useful asset to recruiting more people, be it for the Avengers, or SHIELD.

You didn't like the feeling of being a tool to recruit more people, so you were about to decline, but then brought up the monthly paycheck you'd make if you were to accept. Well..... how could someone refuse THAT amount of money am I right? ( i imagine it to be maybe 10k-15k usd per month ^^ )

ᯓ���

Your first day on the job wasn't bad per say, but it was definitely hectic. The Avengers compound was so far away from where you lived, you had to wake up 2 hours earlier than you usually do to arrived at a reasonable time. It wasn't just that, the compound was so big, you had troubles navigating through the damn building, and with your shitty eye sight, you ran into multiple walls, causing you to rest for awhile and wasting even more time. Curse Stark and his big ass building.

After FINALLY arriving at the lounge room of the compound, you were surprised to see all members of the Avengers lined up in a line facing towards the entrance, as if waiting for you to arrive. Standing in front of them was a familiar figure, one you've come to recognise as Nick Fury.

As if sensing your presence, he turned around and gave what you think was a grin, you couldn't tell, all you could see was pitch black because of your disease.

Introducing yourself was another issue, even with the shiny blonde hair that Steve Rogers and Thor Odinsson had, it was hard to distinguish their faces. You had to squint your eyes to see if a person was standing in front of you or not.

After introducing yourself to Natasha Romanoff, the black widow, it was on to the next and final person, one you've heard on the news multiple times. Wanda Maximoff, also known as the Scarlett Witch. She was just a few years older than you, so you were expecting a shy girl, what you weren't expecting was a bright red light shining around her figure. You covered your eyes, wanting and needing to block out the light to not damage your already damaged eyes.

After getting used to the shine, you let your hands fall to your sides, her features were something you've never seen before, which was ironic since you could barely make out people's faces. She had emerald green eyes, scarlet hair and light freckles adorned her cheeks. She was ethereal, you thought.

You were about to let go of her hand after shaking it when it hit you. Did you just explain her features in detail? But how? You could barely see anything. You looked back up at her face, and your eyes widened at how normal she looked. Nothing about her was a dark color, it was basically your first time seeing colors so bright.

You didn't notice the poor woman getting nervous under your gaze, 'is there something on my face?' she thought to herself. But before she could ask the question that she recited in her mind, she saw Fury tapping your shoulder, affectively breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry.." you murmured, "I've just never seen a face with such bright colors before. You know, with my disease and all...." You hated how shy you sounded, it was as if you were a petite girl getting caught for sticking her hand in the cookie jar.

"It's fine!" she enthusiastically said, she felt at ease after finding out the reason for your blatant staring. "Your names Y/N right? I hope we can be good friends." You hoped so too.

ᯓ★

You were settling in nicely. After being here for around 5 months, you've realised a lot more things about yourself. Who would've thought you'd be so good at sparring? Well at least yo were when against Steve, you'd never be able to beat Natasha. And who would've thought you were able to work out complicated biotech with Stark? Certainly not you. Who would've thought your heart would start pounding whenever Wanda Maximoff was around? Who would've tho- wait what? Your heart pounds whenever Wanda is around? You stopped in your tracks after the thought came into mind.

'I like Wanda?' you thought to yourself, 'That can't be, sure I'm always flustered around her and always crave to be around her, but that doesn't mean I have a crush on her! Right?' you asked yourself. 'Right?'

"Right about what, malysh?", you'd recognise that nickname from miles away. "It's nothing wands, somethings on my mind is all." "Penny for your thoughts then?", you couldn't help but giggle at her words, yo don't know why. "It'd be my pleasure."

"Is it about your powers? Oh! Maybe about how you'd finally beat Natasha at sparring?", her words were filled with excitement as she asked you questions.

"Ouch, Wands. To be clear I've beaten Natasha before..... at everything except what she's good at. And no it's nothing you've listed." you replied.

"Whatever you say malysh, so what's on your mind? Let me guess! Let me guess! Uhm...."

You giggled at her excited tone, your lips instantly pulling up into a smile whenever she showed you this side of her. Wanda was still fairly new to the Avengers, sure she was friends with all the members but she was closest to you. You felt fluttering in your stomach at the thought.

But, what if she eventually finds out about the pathetic crush you have on her? You've noticed the way she looks at vision, you don't know what he has that you don't, because you can't even tell what he looks like. Is he good looking? Handsome? Cute? But you did hear Clint muttering something about him having red skin.....

Back on the matter, you were worried, worried about how she'd react, would she like you back? Or would a disgusted look be plastered onto her goddess like features?

Even in stressful situations like this, you couldn't help but find Wanda beautiful. Her face got brighter day by day, the aura surrounding her getting brighter and brighter, showing that she was getting stronger too. You admired her for that.

You looked back in front of you, trying to avoid Wanda's piercing gaze as she tries to guess what's on your mind. What you didn't know was that Wanda had read your mind. She felt guilty, she promised you she'd never do anything like that to you. It was an invasion of privacy. But your thoughts were so loud! They were practically spewing out of your mind!

She couldn't help the blush that rose upon her cheeks at finding out about your crush on her. She herself was also finding it hard to come to light about her feeling towards you. Yes, she felt an undeniable pull between her and vision but her heart pounded in a different way when she was in your presence. She felt the stress ebb away from her body when she was able to rant to you about your problems.

It wasn't until you finally reached your destination, that being your room, that you stopped Wanda's rambling. "It's nothing to worry about Wands, just figuring things out is all."

And just as you were about to close your room door after entering, Wanda hurriedly jammed her foot between the door and your doorframe, wincing at the pain that she had willingly put herself through. To say you were shocked at her action was an understatement. "Are you alright?!" you half shouted, "You could hurt yourself doing that!" "I'm fine malysh. I just.... I just need a moment with you." she panted between breaths.

'A moment? With me? Did something happen? What's going on?' . you pondered as you entered your room, Wanda following behind you. "What's wrong Wands? Your face is really red. Like, REALLY red. And you can tell it's bad when even I can see a color as bright as that.", your worried tone warmed Wanda's heart. 'All I want to do right now is kiss that worried face of yours away.' she thought to herself. Well atleast she thinks she did.

"Y-you wanna what to my face away?", you asked, bewildered at the fact she just said that aloud. "Hm?", Wanda was still oblivious, it took a few seconds for her to realise what had just happened, and of course, her face turned as red as a tomato, at this point it was hard to differentiate the color of her face and her hair, they were almost the same.

"I-I'm so sorry, malysh! It just slipped out! I didn't mean it— well I DID, but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!-", you could feel your heart pumping wildly against your chest, what does she mean she means what she said? Does she want to kiss you? No that couldn't be it, but then what could she mean? I mean if she did, you wouldn't be complaining.

"Malysh? Are you listening? You know what i'll get straight to the reason why I wanted to talk, I like you, okay? Y/N? Y/N listen to me!" You were still in your own world, asking yourself question when Wanda suddenly started shaking your shoulders and was repeating the same sentence over and over again.

"Wait, hold on a second Wands. You like me? You?" you asked incredulously, as if she hadn't said it a dozen times already.

"Yes, stupid! I like you! Are you gonna say anything? Y/N? God....", she felt frustrated, and rightfully so. Your mind was still trying to process what she said, and after doing so your face turned to what you think is a bright red.

"Oh! That's.... that's cool! Yeah! I... I just......", you were a stuttering mess under Wanda's watchful gaze, and you felt panic rise within you when you noticed an upset look spread across her face. Wanda had took your stuttering as you being uncomfortable, and tried to talk her way out of the topic at hand when you suddenly cut her off before she could even say anything.

"I like you too! Okay! I just, I have a hard time expressing it.... 'M just shocked is all....", the words finally left your mouth in a hurried sentence.

"Why would you ever be shocked, malysh?", Wanda was confused, did you not notice her liking towards you?

"It's just, you're like a goddess Wands. You're beautiful, cheerful and powerful. I don't understand why you'd be with someone like me, someone who can't even see things properly."

"Well you can see me perfectly fine, no?"

"That's different, Wands."

"How so, Y/N/N? I don't care if you have problems seeing, malysh. Hell, I wouldn't even care if you were blind! I like you because you're you. And I like you, okay?"

You were processing her words, still trying to tell if she was saying it for fun or not, but when you realised she wasn't, you wrapped your arms around her frame.

"Woah! Calm down there, malysh. Still need to breathe." she chuckled. But you couldn't care less. She finally liked you back. You finally got your girl. You finally got the light in the dark.

A/N : if im being honest, i fucking hate this. i thought that maybe if i went with the flow it'd come out okay but at this point its just nonsense, but anywayyy!!! hope you enjoyed this one! feel free to leave requests!!!!

[leftneb]

There is Something Seriously Wrong with this Logo..... Chapter Two

So. Lots of you have seen this post by my dear partner ( @lailau7904 ) in which the Williams F1 design team get absolutely torn to bits. In the case you haven't read it yet I highly recommend you do because a) it's really fucking funny and b) it makes what I'm about to tell you even funnier. Though you don't have to, this post touches on entirely different things still regarding this one goddamn logo.

The original post starts like this:

Innocent enough, we made an assumption in good faith that the logo displayed on the Wikipedia page would be the same one as the official version used by Williams. Buckle the fuck up because I'm about to tell you why that was the worst mistake we could have made.

Please. Please I beg of you keep reading this took YEARS off our lifespans. Like the original post was fun and all but it was merely the top of the iceberg. If this were an hbomberguy video this would be the part where he reveals that the background was a greenscreen the whole time. More below the cut!!! :333

The Truth

Already after only a few hours after hitting "post" on the dissection, people started pointing out to us that we'd missed an absolutely crucial detail on the Wikimedia page we got the logo from, pay careful attention:

See THIS?

Yeah this means that that image is not, and never was, the official logo of Williams. All along it had been the work of a Wikipedia user by the name of Juanchocarbonero. Here you can even see the (admittedly painful) history of the file as provided by Wikimedia, this image was uploaded all the way back in 2016, it even underwent an update when the team changed their colour scheme to a lighter blue without getting fucking fixed.

But to me the absolutely most painful part about this page is the "File Usage" section. Which gives you a quick preview of just how deep the goddamn disease that is this piece of graphic design sin really spreads.

And just to clarify: the official version of the logo used by Williams on merch etc is perfectly fine. It's a nice piece of graphic design. I still quite like it. But the story doesn't end there. Not even close.

Consequences

When you look up "williams logo" on Google the image provided by Wikimedia the very first result that pops up, if you're looking for a high-quality .png of this logo that, logically, is what you'll end up using. And I mean, why wouldn't you? What reason do you have not to use it? As long as you don't look to close (oops) it's a perfectly fine, high-definition, clean and transparent image of the logo! No shit people are going to use it!

But this raises a question: Why IS it the most widespread version of the logo? That's fucking weird isn't it? Surely if the actual logo used on ex.: the official Williams F1 website (which, again, is perfectly fucking fine) was available they would've just used that, right?

Now. Small problem. If you want you can go ahead and open whatever search engine you use, if you do that I'm gonna need you to type in "Williams logo" into the search bar, and just try finding a picture that is

of the actual official logo (you can tell the bootleg from the real thing by checking if the middle segment of the W has spiky ends or flat ones. We're looking for flat ones here)

high quality (no pixels or blurring visible to the naked eye)

a transparent png (none of that chequered background bullshit)

NOT a logo with any words (such as: Williams or Racing) visible in it. those don't count.

If you didn't feel like doing any of that, I'll just tell you the answer: you fucking can't. Nothing like that EXISTS. The closest I could get are these two, both of which are mid to ass quality, so they don't count either.

No sensible individual is going to scroll google search results for 5 minutes straight just so they can use a 200x200 image, especially when they think a perfect alternative is right there.

I even found several recoloured versions of the diseased logo, including one as a sticker on Redbubble! Fuck me that's a horrible sight!

The Search

Because I wrote the previous paragrahps after we'd figured out exactly what had happened, you might be under the impression that by this point in trying to answer the question "Why the fuck is that image on Wikipedia instead of, idk, the real fucking thing?" we'd at least established the existence of said "real Williams F1 logo". You'd be wrong, because for somewhere around 24 hours after we'd made the initial, horrifying discovery of just how fucked the Wikipedia version is, we genuinely could not tell if that was the official logo or not.

The ones displayed on their website weren't at all downloadable or even copyable, a non-ass quality of the damn thing just didn't seem to exist anywhere, so we didn't dare draw any conclusions. And we were still foolishly operating on the assumption that Wikipedia wouldn't just lie to us. (this is why your teachers hate it when you use it a source btw. like this is the ONE time it's actually been reasonable)

So, in the hopes of finding the offical Williams Racing logo, the non-scuffed one because clearly it exists, somewhere, we consulted an expert on Intellectual Property: my mother!

What this "consultation" actually roughly looked like was: we went on a walk and I started rambling about the Situation from Last Night before she cut me off and pulled up the website of the World Intellectual Property Organisation, aka the place they store all the Copyright information of like, everything.

BEHOLD:

(pictured; THE ACTUAL FUCKING LOGO I CANNOT BELIEVE IT'S EXISTED THIS WHOLE TIME)

Link to the actual real official legal document because goddamn this rabbithole just kept getting deeper so I like, have that now.

For refence, here is the official copyrighted version and the Wikimedia file overlayed on top of each other. As you can tell, it's disgusting. It's a poor, eyeballed imitation at best.

The copyrighted logo is horrifically low quality because, guess what, that image also isn't downloadable or copyable from the page. I really really cannot blame Juanchocarbonero for uploading his own version to Wikimedia because there legitimately does not exist a version of this logo that is freely available to the public. Like that goddamn abomiation is all we have. It's the effort that counts I guess.

My mother suggested that a possible reason for this could be avoiding the production of knockoff merch, or at least making it recognisable in case it is sold. Think about it, when your logo Doesn't Exist online, no one can use it without a license! It's kind of genius! I'm also about 99% sure they didn't orchestrate it so, it was good luck I guess?

interlude: How the FUCK does Copyright even work

I did immediately think to myself "we should REALLY fix the wikipedia version, like, stat" because I cannot in good conscience have this information available to me and not do anything with it, for the good of the people. However, this poses an issue: was the logo really not scuffed on purpose? Could it be that that version uploaded to Wikipedia isn't a 1:1 of the official logo because of copyrighting issues? To find out I had to look deeper, by comparing the official, website-available logos of various other F1 teams I came to conclusion that: [........................]

Yeah so I wrote that paragraph before actually checking for refences, but even after probably an hour of trying very hard to make sense of the copyright documents and copyright law in general we could not make sense of any of it. According to my mother (again, the closest we have to an expert, like she actually works with copyright in the context of companies but she's not specifically an IP expert. just to clarify) it's actually a lot worse for Wikipedia to have a falsified version of the Williams logo, than it would be to use the copyrighted version. This is because they're spreading misinformation by pretending that's the actual logo. And yet.

According to the Copyright Tag (the one on the top) in the Licensing section of the Wikimedia page for the thing pretending to be the Williams F1 logo, it's fine to use it because just a bunch of shapes. The thing is however, that it says that for pretty much every F1 team's logo, most of which are sourced straight from the official website. So this doesn't really mean anything tbh. According to our local expert (still my mother) it's fucking confusing. So I've decided to leave that at that.

update October 20th: as far as the Wikimedia pages on copyrighting tell me, uploading the official logo could, potentially, get me into serious legal trouble with Williams because of copyright laws. Which is still confusing because as said, every other team's logo is sitting uncontested on their respective Wikipedia pages. So basically we still don't know.

Okay. Backtrack. We forgot to ask something very important:

HOW?

HOW does one fuck up a perfectly fine logo THAT BAD.

WHY does one make their own scuffed tracejob and HOW does it end up like THAT. Clearly something must have gone horrifically wrong for it to end up like that.

I have a theory as to what might have happened:

It was either drawn or painted by hand, for a physical paintjob it's actually sort of impressively precise, but still objectively fucked. For a while I outright refused to believe that it could have been done in a digital program with the types of mistakes that were made, but you'll see this theory (partially) disproven later on so I retract it for now.

Operating on the assumption that it wasn't done digitally, a likely theory could be one involving a picture of scan of the paintjob. If the picture was taken at an angle or the logo itself was on a curved surface that COULD potentially explain the weird sort of slide everything has to it.

From then the picture might have been inserted into a digital art program, and the area of the logo might have been automatically selected using the magic wand tool, which could explain the weird growth at the top and that odd rounded off corner.

We also drew the conclusion that the file itself had been "tampered with" (aka cropped manually) by a human, because no computer would generate a resolution of 3356x2543 (you can that this is the original resolution on the Wikimedia page)

WAIT HOLD ON IS THAT IT?

The question of how the Fuck this guy managed to mess up the logo, and even more specifically why some edges were fine and some weren't (ant colony looking thing on the top left) bothered us so much that I at one point started just looking up "WIlliams logo" with the results filtered down to pre-2017 in an attempt to find when exactly the messed up logo was created. As if that would be any help.

Now what I definitely didn't expect to find was THIS

ENHANCE

Yes, you're seeing it right, THAT is the original 'Williams logo with the fucked up arm angles and lenghts'. Which PROVES that, contrary to our previous belief, Juancocarbonero was NOT the origin of the mistakes. Instead it was [checks notes] a DeviantArt user by the name of Nerdkid56?

The original DeviantArt post, which as of 9:47pm CET on the 13th of October 2024 I am about 90% sure is the actual first appearanace of the scuffed logo, is from May of 2015, which lines up well with the original upload date of the fucked up logo onto Wikipedia (November 2016). At the time that DeviantArt post was almost the only source for the logo.

And in the case you needed any convincing that those two logos are the same, here they are overlayed. You may notice that it's one shape (excluding the rounded corner which isn't visible at this resolution.)

This discovery is essential to understanding why the current scuffed version is the way it is. You might remember our confusion about the way some edges are fine while some are attempting to leave the image, the whole thing is a weird Frankensteinian amalgamation of vectors and magic wand mistakes. With this knowledge we can now assume that the mistakes happened in 2 layers:

Nerdkid56: likely just eyeballed the proportions. I'd guess he drew one arm before the other and flipped it around without really checking the angles. Also didn't give a shit about whether the arms lined up with the base or not. Legitimately bad design made in a digital program.

Juancocarbonero: why he used the scuffed W logo instead of the normal ones that were also perfectly accessible by 1 goddamn Google search is a mistery. HOW he even got access to it is another question I do not think we'll have answers to. And I've already explained some of the things we think may be responsible for the uneveness and bumps. Point is he fucked it up even more.

My theory for why Juanchocarbonero used the scuffed version instead of any other available picture goes like this: it was the only png he could find. Practically every other search result for "Williams Logo" that predates 2017 is a jpeg or absolute ass quality (sometimes both for good measure) so, despite it's flaws, Nedkid56's trace of it could have been the best option available at the time (the quality is actually very very good since it's a vector image, and I guess our friend Juanchocarbonero doesn't have an eye for design considering he didn't notice uhm, everything that is wrong with that model.)

Conclusion

The only way to right these wrongs is to go back, to the very beggining of this saga. Wikipedia. Williams I'm so sorry for what you've had to endure. I know what I have to do now. When I eventually make a proper vector image of the official logo and upload it to Wikimedia it'll all be over. And I WILL do it (but not rn this has already robbed me of like 3 whole days of my life. soon)

All of this is, admittedly inconsequental, but also absolutely fucking hilarious. Like imagine. you. one single guy, you make ONE mistake in a silly little "tracing this logo" project because you couldn't be arsed to check the angles of a silly little W. And some other guy, who you likely don't even know, over a whole ass year later, takes your flawed piece of design, makes it even worse somehow and uploads it to a site from which your little tiny innocent mistake becomes the most widespread version of a logo used by an actual real company worth over 700 Million US Dollars. HOW. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN. WHY HAS NO ONE FIXED THIS??? IT'S BEEN 9 YEARS

Just to give you a final look on just how widespread this plague is, here are some examples of media the fucked up version of the logo is featured in:

this Mr V's Garage video (the original reason we started this conversation in the first place)

the thumbnails of these two videos by Tommo, this one by FP1Will, and this one by RicksF1Addiction

such an amount of random places. likely fanmerch and fanart, and like, pretty much any place someone wanted to use the logo. it's everywhere. if you've ever had the Williams logo displayed in anything you've made I can guarantee you 99.9% chance you used the fucked version

and late thank you to everyone ( @bumblewyn @mid-nighttiger @vro0m @lemonsgovroom @mikraas @leclerced fucking hell I kept needing to add people to this list because compiling all of this took absurdly long) who pointed out our misconception in the reblogs of the original post and contributed to us actually looking into this further. and sorry to everyone for accidentally spreading misinformation lmao (it's too funny not to have been worth it tho) (ALSO it's not really our fault is it)

and to keep the tradition of ending on a live discord reaction:

[skyeslittlecorner]

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful Halloween!

Will it be all right if I request the WHB King's reactions to MC wearing One of those sexy Halloween costumes (any of your choice!)

You're writing is extremely well done And I really enjoy reading your work!

Have a nice day or night :3

Hello! And thank you! And yes, and thank you! I'm writing this answer early, because the time it's posted, I'm probably sitting with family and friends. Hope I can brighten up your three minutes with my silly ideas 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

You came to Satan in a mummy costume, covering strategic places with bandages. He is delighted. For this joy he will kick anyone who looks at you, and he will want to take you here, now, in this corner, on this wall. The bandages you wore will grow to the status of relics. Satan will tie them around his wrists for difficult fights, and small pieces will be used to tie the most seriously wounded warriors, as a reward and support in healing.

Mammon won't be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you dressed as an Egyptian queen. Dripping with gold and silk, half-naked, combining inaccessibility with luxury... This will be Tartaros' favorite Halloween, because Mammon will take you on his knees and open up the throne room, accepting audiences for ordinary devils. Let all the devils see how beautiful and powerful their queen and his Master is, before he takes you to his chambers to ruin your expensive makeup.

Leviathan will be disgusted when he sees your exposed shoulders, tight corset and short skirt with a deep cut if you dress up as a pirate. What kind of idea is that? And that knife on your thigh. You want to fight with anything? With this? Foolish human. As a pirate, you should be ready to fight a kraken... and he can show you how dangerous and big the tentacles are.

You know those edible bracelets made of powdered candy? This is what the bikini Beelzebub will send you is made of. Only there will be less candy than on this bracelet. So that you can somehow go out on the town, you'll throw on his coat and tie it tightly around your waist. Improvisation is all you have left. You grab your markers, open the phone gallery and in the mirror, sloppily, scribble words on your body; Beel's tattoos. You'll steal Bael's glasses, and voila! Avisos, don't count on seeing your king, because when he sees you, he'll get obsessed. Do you want to be his so much that you're dressed up as him? Do you miss him so much? Come here. All you'll see for the next few hours is him and his clones; he'll point out every mistake in your tattoos and make you learn them by heart on his own body.

For Lucifer, you really tried your best with the makeup. You came in torn clothes, with fake wounds painted all over your body. The poor devil almost had a heart attack when he saw you. He rushed to check which of them were real, and when it turned out that none, you only heard a quiet whisper and felt a warm breath on your cheek. "Not very convincing." he muttered disapprovingly, as if he almost didn't panic at your sight. "I'll help you make them better." He licked his lips. Looking at his sharp fangs... your makeup can't compare to what they will leave.

For Belphegor the sexiest thing you can do is dress up as a mattress, but he guesses that wasn't the purpose of this event. You put on a sexy outfit, drew some card designs, and slid some cards and dices under your clothes and into ruffles. You decided to present the devil with a fait accompli. Took his favorite dice and threw it under your bra. "Oops." You spread your hands as if you hadn't done it on purpose. "I think you lost something?" Although initially unfazed, you quickly motivated him to search... even though your ornaments would soon be the last thing he was interested in.

Asmodeus was hard (as always) to figure out… so you decided to ignore him completely and just have fun. Let's test our king. Will he really think you're sexy in *everything*? Even if you dress up as an inflatable T-Rex? You were already excited when you found out that there was no such thing in hell. Sucks. Annoyed, you decided to tease your king. With Eligos and Paimon you spent a good few days, preparing a tight black dress, a curly wig, and specific makeup. To them, you looked simply sexy; but when you stood before Asmodeus, made up like Lust, his eyes widened. After all, he’s a man of culture who spends most of his time on Earth. “Sassy.” He smiled menacingly as he ran his finger over the tattoo between your collarbones. “Do you want to mock me or please me? Oh, well… Guess I have to ignite you.” Others better appreciate your creation before he sees you, because there will be absolutely nothing left of it.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

you should do a spencer agnew x reader but reader is the new smosh games PA and she has a slow burn / flirty relationship with spencer :)))

Cool Shoes || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist • part 2  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you join smosh as the newest addition to the games crew, you are immediately attracted to spencer. but will your little crush turn into something more?

word count: 3.7k

warnings: mild language

a/n: thank you so much for this request ml!! i love writing for spencer sm and honestly i kinda fell in love w him a little bit while writing this so ty 🤭 this isn’t superrr slow burny (i got to excited and eager lol oops) but there’s plenty of flirting and i hope you enjoy this!! 🎀

edit!! i have a part two now, so if you enjoy this fic go check that out 💋

<— some more spencer fics • next part —>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “And this concludes your official tour of Smosh,” Shayne said, throwing his arms wide. “Any questions?”

     “Yes,” you answered, “Is that my ring?”

     “(Y/n),” Shayne whined as he slipped the ring that was definitely yours into his pocket quickly, “That’s what you got out of my tour?”

     “You’re right, I’m sorry Oh Wise Guide,” you teased, “You know I wouldn’t be here without you. Or if I was, I’d be really lost.”

     You had just officially begun your job at Smosh that morning. Shayne had immediately started showing you around and you really were grateful.

     You’d known Shayne for years and he was the one that suggested you try and get a job with Smosh when you’d moved to LA a few months ago. 

     You’d gotten a job as the Smosh Games PA and you couldn’t wait to get started. You already knew a lot of the people who worked there—either because you’d met them through Shayne outside of Smosh or from the multiple times you’d visited the studio before you’d applied for the job.

     Plus, this was the first job you’d had where you actually felt like you’d be doing something you enjoyed. 

     “Who’s lost?” You heard a voice from behind you and you spun around quickly.

     “Oh, (Y/n), this is Spencer, the director of our games channel,” Shayne introduced you to the man who had spoke. “Spencer, this is (Y/n), the new games PA.”

     You knew you should’ve said something to him along the lines of ‘hi, nice to meet you. i’m (y/n). i look forward to working with you’ but all that came out was “Cool shoes.”

    You didn't know why that was what your mind had landed on—he was wearing basic gray sneakers—but you were so caught off guard by how attractive he was that you’d kinda choked.

     Because damn. He had the most gorgeous eyes you’d ever seen on a person before. 

     Spencer smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Either you’re just trying to kiss ass already or you’ve got really bad taste in shoes because these babies are mid at best.”

     You smiled, looking down at your own shoes. “Definitely the second option—these are someone’s grandma’s shoes. Seriously, I scavenged them from my Nanna’s closet.”

     This got you a laugh from Spencer and you continued, “Unless I should be kissing ass?”

     “Nah,” Spencer waved the thought away, “most of your job’s just gonna consist of bringing me Mountain Dew. So unless you can screw that up…”

     “He’s not serious, is he?” You turned around to ask Shayne. “Because you said this wasn’t gonna be like my last job.”

     “You slung Mountain Dew at your last job?” Spencer asked. 

     You shook your head. “Just had a lousy boss who took the assistant part of my job a little too far. But I appreciate your concern for my employment history,” you teased. 

     You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to Spencer. Usually you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to joke around with someone you just met—let alone your new boss. Your new boss who you had almost undressed with your eyes upon first sight. 

     “Settle down, I was just gonna ask if you had any cans left over,” Spencer winked.

     “Spencer’s kind of addicted to Mountain Dew Kickstart,” Shayne piped in. “And by kind of—”

     “He means I’ve already had four today,” Spencer finished.

     You made a face, “It’s 9:00am.”

     “Ooh,” Spencer winced dramatically, “Sorry, but I don’t think our values align. Go ahead and bring in the next one, Shayne.  (Y/n), it was nice meeting you—good luck with the shoes thing.”

     Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “You already have another person lined up for my job?”

     Spencer leaned towards you and you felt your pulse pick up ever-so-slightly. “Shayne doesn’t know it yet, but it’s actually just him,” he whispered loudly.

     “Well then I may have to quit, just to see how this goes,” you said, turning to Shayne who crossed his arms.

     “Not when I was just starting to like you,” Spencer pouted and you felt your cheeks warm.

     “I was just starting to think you’re not so bad yourself,” you shot back.

     “Woah, I just meant ‘cause you have a secret stash of Mountain Dew.”

     “And I meant because you have cool shoes,” you teased.

     “Well, now that we’ve got that settled,” Spencer smiled, “I expect to see you here by 5:00am sharp tomorrow morning.”

     “Seriously?” Your job description hadn’t said anything about getting to work when it was still dark out!

     Spencer shrugged. “I guess I can give you a few more hours. Y’know, so you can shop for some decent footwear beforehand. See ya later, grandma shoes.”

      He began to walk backwards and you said a quick ‘it was nice to meet you’ before he turned around and walked back the way he came.

     You couldn’t stop the smile that was forming on your face. You could already tell this was going to turn out to be a great job. You couldn’t wait to get to work tomorrow. And you couldn’t pretend part of that wasn’t because you wanted to see Spencer again.   

     And not just because that’s what your eyes wanted. You had enjoyed talking with him. You felt like you’d really hit it off. You felt like you two could really become good friends and coworkers. 

     You turned to Shayne, aware that you were probably still smiling like an idiot. 

     “What?” He fixed you with a quizzical look.

     “Nothing, I’m just excited to start working here,” you said.

     Shayne raised an eyebrow.

     “And,” You added, reluctantly, and only because you knew Shayne would find out  eventually, “you didn’t tell me my boss was hot.”

     Now Shayne raised both eyebrows, “Spencer?”

     “What?”

     “Nothing,” he said, “I mean, he’s single, so go for it if you want. He seemed like he really liked you and—”

     “No,” you cut him off, “Definitely not. He’s my boss. I don’t want to ‘go for’ anything other than a good, friendly, professional relationship.”

     “Okay,” Shayne nodded. 

      You nodded back and he was silent for a moment before smiling, 

     “‘Course that’s what I said about Courtney…”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

You took a sip of your coffee from the mug you were holding as you made your way down the hall and towards your office.

     You’d been working at Smosh for approximately seventeen days and you had finally stopped getting lost throughout the building on a daily basis.

     Once Spencer had showed you the ropes and made sure you knew what you were doing, you had joined right in to the well oiled machine that was Smosh.

     Unfortunately, your sense of directions wasn’t as good as your work ethic and so it had taken extra time for you to remember where everything was. Much to Shayne’s amusement.

     You were deep in thought as you rounded the corner and you didn’t see the person right in front of you.

     You ran straight into Spencer and as you collided with him, your coffee drink spilled all down your front as you were knocked to the floor. You quickly picked yourself up off the ground. 

     “I am so sorry,” you rushed, “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

     “It’s all good,” Spencer said, standing up, “I am officially awake now, so I guess I owe you one.”

     You laughed with him but you felt your face getting hot in embarrassment. You looked down at your blouse and found it more brown than it was purple from the coffee. You tried in vain to wipe it off.

     “Damn, I hope that wasn’t a family heirloom too,” Spencer pointed to your shirt, “Here, take my hoodie.”

     He started to pull the sweatshirt over his head as you protested, “No, it’s ok—I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad—it’s kind of a look.”

     “Really, I insist,” Spencer said, handing you his hoodie. “Gives me a chance to show off my anime t-shirt anyway.”

     You took the sweatshirt from him, mumbling your thanks and pulling it over your head.

      Spencer’s scent engulfed you as you put on his warm hoodie and you tried not to get distracted by the way his cologne made you a little bit dizzy. 

      Over the last several days, as you’d been adjusting to your new job, you’d almost forgotten your tiny crush on Spencer. 

     Almost. 

     You’d been so focused on work that you hadn’t really had time to stop and think about your feelings towards your boss. 

     You really enjoyed working with him and he was quickly becoming your favorite person at Smosh—other than Shayne, of course. You sent a silent apology to him in your head.

      And then there were the moments when Spencer would laugh at one of your jokes or compliment you on a task you did or smile shyly at you up through his lashes and you felt all warm inside.

     Like right now—him giving you his hoodie. That brought you out of your reverie as you remembered where you were. Standing in front of the man you were currently lost in thought about.

     “Right, well, I better get back to—” You gestured in front of you, trailing off as you had honestly forgot what exactly you were headed to your office for. 

     “Of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you from—” He gestured in the direction you had, as if the nothing that you had indicated was what needed your attention. 

     You rolled your eyes at him amicably before heading in the direction you had been going. 

     After a quick stop in your office—you hadn’t found what you apparently had been looking for in there. And if while you were in the office by yourself you pulled up the collar of the sweater to your nose for a second or seven, who was there to see you?—you set off for the break room. 

     You saw Shayne sitting at a table with some other cast and crew members and you walked over towards him, plopping down across from him and Erin, an associate producer for Smosh.

     You had gotten to know her a bit throughout these past couple weeks and already felt like you had been friends for months.

     “Hey you,” Shayne greeted, “What’s up?”

     You shrugged. “Oh, you know, same old same old. What’s new with you?”

     “Well, we filmed a TNTL this morning, and I had this new idea for a character. So basically—”

     “(Y/n), is that Spencer’s sweatshirt?” Erin interrupted, her eyes fixed on your top. 

     “Oh, um, yeah,” you told her.

    At the same time Shayne asked, “How do you even know what Spencer wore to work today?” 

     “I’m a woman, we know these things,” Erin paused. “Come on, he wears that thing four times a week, like it’s hard.”

     She turned her gaze back to you. 

     You cleared your throat. “But, yeah, anyways, I spilled coffee on my blouse so he gave me this.”

     Erin raised an eyebrow, “Did he now?”

     “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked her, trying your hardest not to blush. 

     “No reason,” she leaned back, acting casual, “It’s just Dude 101, a guy doesn’t give a girl his hoodie unless he likes her.”

     You scoffed, “That’s crazy, Erin. He was just being nice.”

     This you felt sure about. Whatever your feelings were towards Spencer, you were sure he only though of you as his coworker. 

     Right?

     “Well, it’s obvious you like him,” Erin added, as if that was an absolute fact.

     “What?” You spit out, probably faster and louder than was necessary or convincing.   

     You glanced at Shayne and he raised his arms as if to say, Don’t look at me, my lips have been sealed!

     “I’ve seen the way you act around him, (Y/n). And the way he acts around you.” 

     Was it that obvious that you had a little, tiny crush on Spencer? I mean, you guys got along really well. And we’re constantly making each other laugh. But that just meant you were friends, right? He definitely didn’t act any different around you than he did with anyone else at Smosh, did he? 

     Granted, you hadn’t even been working here three weeks yet and you weren’t one hundred percent sure how he acted around everyone else. But you had no reason to believe it was any different than with you!

     “You’re crazy,” you told Erin.

     “So you deny, it?” She folded her hands on the table in front of her, “You don’t have feelings for Spencer?”

     “Well,” you started. You didn’t want to lie to her, not when you were just starting a friendship. You sighed, lowering your voice so only Erin and Shayne could hear you, “I might have some feelings for—”

     “Spencer!” Shayne said loudly and awkwardly, as if to warn you of his sudden presence behind you.

     You spun around probably too quickly and found yourself looking up at him. 

     “Hi, Spencer,” you said, sincerely hoping he hadn’t overheard any of the previous conversation.

     “Hey (Y/n), long time no see,” he smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “So, I was wondering, since we’ve got that big project coming up next Wednesday, do you think you’d be able to meet me outside of work to get a head start on it? We could go to a coffee shop or my place or something?”

     He almost looked…nervous asking you to work on a project outside of normal work hours. Probably just figuring you’d decline at sacrificing your free hours.

     You watched as Erin raised an eyebrow and you promptly ignored her. 

     “Yeah sure,” you said, “Sounds like a plan.”

     “Really?” He sounded relieved, “Ok awesome, I’ll text you some dates.”

     “Perfect,” you said, “And it’ll give me a chance to give you back this hoodie once I have other clothes to change into.”

     “Keep it,” Spencer shrugged, looking down “It looks way better on you that it ever did on me anyways.”

     You brushed your hair behind your ears. “I might take you up on that offer.”

     “‘Course you will have to give me something in return,” he said, “I mean, fair’s fair, man.”

     “Naturally,” you looked down at your body to find something suitable, your eyes landing on the scrunchie at your wrist. 

     You handed it to him and he took your offering, slipping the scrunchie into his wrist. 

     “Classy,” he nodded, holding his arm out at different angles to look at it.

     “Very,” you agreed, giggling. 

     You both fell silent and you looked back down at the table. Shayne said something to Spencer and they began a conversation—the chosen, something something—and you were silent until Spencer left the table, laughing at something Shayne had said.  

     Immediately after he exited the room, Erin pounced.

     “Okay what the hell was that?” She asked.

     “What was what?”

     Erin put on a high voice and then a low voice and back again, mimicking your conversation “Oh, hi, Spencer. Hi, (Y/n). Wanna come to my place? Oh, I’d love to. You look so sexy. No you look sexy. Wanna exchange wardrobes?” 

     “Okay, that’s not how any of that went,” you said, but you couldn’t help yourself from smiling.

     “That’s what it sounded like from over here,” Shayne added. “He invited you to his house, man. And he’s gonna text you?”

     You’d exchanged numbers right after you began your job, but you hadn’t actually had many text conversations. You didn’t really think it was a big deal.

     “Yeah, we’ve texted before,” you said, “But don’t think it means anything, so far he’s mostly just sent me memes.”

     “What kind of memes?” Shayne asked, as though this was severely important. 

     “Cat, SpongeBob, the occasional wombat.”

     “Trust me,” he said, “that means something. I’m a psychologist, so I kinda know these things.”                                

“Havingapsychologydegreeisn’tthesameasbeingapsychologist,” Erin coughed into her hand.  

     “You know what—” Shayne started, turning to Erin.

     “Guys,” you interrupted.

     “Right,” Erin agreed, “not the time. What I’m trying to say is, that was flirting Miss (Y/n), whether you like it or not.”

     Had you and Spencer been flirting? You weren’t exactly an expert on the subject, so maybe Erin was right. A part of you definitely hoped that was the case. 

     “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Amanda leaned in from the table next to yours, “But I also think there was definitely flirting going on.”

      You, Shayne, and Erin all turned to look at her.

      “Come on people, you know I like kissing scenes, why should this come as a shock?” She threw up her hands and you laughed.

       “Who’s kissing?” You hadn’t seen Courtney enter the room, but now she came and sat down next to her husband and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

       “We were just talking about how it’s just a matter of time before Spencer and (Y/n) are totally gonna ba—”

      “Erin!” You cut her off, definitely blushing now as Courtney giggled.

      “So you and Spencer, huh?” She asked, smiling. 

      “That’s what these two seem to think,” you gestured to your friends.

     “Not think,” Erin said.

     “We know,” Shayne finished.

     “Fine,” you relented a bit, “I do like him, a little. Well, okay a lot. I guess I like him a lot. He’s smart and sweet and funny and charming and so cute and has great cologne, apparently,” you gestured to the hoodie. You took a deep breath. “And I really really like him.”

     You realized as you said it, that it was true. You’d spent the past couple of weeks trying to convince yourself that you only thought of Spencer as a friend and a coworker. But you realized, the more you talked to your friends, that you really did have feelings for him. That were more than friendly or coworker-ly. 

     Maybe this was something that you really did want. And that could maybe happen. You had felt the connection between you and Spencer, so it was possible he might feel the same way about you.

     Unless you were reading this all wrong and—Oh God, what if you told him how you felt and he rejected you and then you had to work side by side with him in awkwardness forever? 

     “But so what? It’s not as if he feels the same way. I don’t want to make things weird between us,” you finished.

     “Trust me, my guy, he likes you,” Courtney contributed. “I’m married to a psychologist, I know these things.”

     “See!” Shayne crossed his arms triumphantly and Erin rolled her eyes. 

     “Stilldoesn’tcount,” she cough-spoke. 

     “And I’m taking this back!” You said, noticing the ring on Shayne’s middle finger and reaching over to grab it, once and for all. 

     “Anyways,” Courtney finished, “I say tell him how you feel, see where this goes.”

     “I concur,” Shayne said and his wife raised an eyebrow at him. “What? I’ve always wanted to say that!”

     “She’s right,” Erin said, “and by the end of the week you’ll be ban—”

     “Erin!” 

     She merely smirked as she picked up her soda drink and took a sip. 

     “So I just go up and ask Spencer out?” You messed with the drawstrings of your sweatshirt. You were encouraged by your friends’ words, and you really wanted to go up and just do it, but you felt doubt creeping in. 

     “What if I mess up what I’m trying to say?  Or fall on my face walking up to him? Or worse, what if he says no?”

     “He wouldn’t.” You heard his voice first. You looked up and found him walking slowly through the doorway as he kept speaking. “Say no, I mean. If I know him as well as I think I do—and I pride myself on knowing him pretty damn well—then he’d say yes.”        

     He was in front of you now. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.”

     You tried to catch your breath as you processed what was happening. “Oh yeah? What else would he say?”

     “Well, uh, he’d probably that he’s attracted to you. And that he wanted to ask you out the moment he met you and is so glad you did it first because now he doesn’t have to continue his poor, pathetic attempts at making a move,” he said, placing a hand in the back of his neck.

     You stood up, coming to stand right in front of Spencer. “When did you come back?” 

     You’d thought he’d walked away a few minutes ago after your conversation had ended. 

     “Never left,” he said, “Bent down to tie my shoe, and then I heard way too many nice things about myself to leave.”

     You giggled, shoving his shoulder. “So humble.”

     “Hey, when you hear someone professing their love for you…” Spencer shrugged. 

     “Ok, that’s not what was happening,” you crossed your arms.

     “I beg to differ,” Erin piped in.

     “Not what it sounded like from our side of the table,” added Shayne. 

     You had forgotten both of them were there. You’d been so caught up in what was happening with Spencer, you’d forgotten anyone was there, actually.

     But as you looked around, you found that everyone currently occupying the break room was stopped to watch the two of you. 

     Angela whooped from a few tables over. 

     “Well since it’s unanimous, apparently,” you joked, “What do you say? Will you go out with me.”

     “I most certainly will,” Spencer said, smiling at you.

     You reached out and took his hand, linking it with yours. He looked at you for a moment before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

     You placed your hand where his lips had touched yours. You couldn’t believe this was happening. And you couldn’t wait to see where this went—you and Spencer, you thought. You felt giddy with excitement.

     “Well, I’ll see ya later then,” Spencer said, beginning to walk backwards. “and I already have an idea for our first official date.”

     “And what’s that?”

     “I’m gonna take you to a Payless ShoeSource.”

     “I thought you liked my grandma shoes,” you crossed your arms.

     “(Y/n), I like everything about you,” he said, “but those things have to to go.”      

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this one!! have a lovely week all my spencer girlies 🤭🩰

<— some more spencer fics • next part —>

[galaxy-fleur]

⋆Midnight Rendezvous⋆

Pairing: Post-RE4R!Leon/gn!reader.

Summary: It's only natural to miss and long for the one you love, regardless of how accustomed you are to being apart from them. One lucky phone call can mean so much more when it's an unexpected surprise. For you and Leon alike. Or: Quick smutty drabble for @thatpyramidthing that turned into a one-shot, which then turned into a full-blown fic. Oops!

Word Count: 4k words.

Notes: Established relationship, phone sex, mutual masturbation, smut with feelings. Suspension of disbelief because people were not using their phones like this in 2000's lmao.

Credit: Divider by @/saradika-graphics

For you and Leon, spending extended periods of time apart was not an exception but rather a tried-and-true routine. That was just the nature of his job, and it couldn't be fought or challenged, only accepted and adapted to accordingly. The only thing you could do was cherish what time you did get to spend together.

This particular assignment of his was the same as any other. While you had no expectations for him to call, you can't help but beam once you see his name appear on your phone screen. Waisting no time at all, you quickly fall back into bed and answer the phone, feeling a little bit too excited for what is likely going to be a brief check-in given how busy he is normally when he's gone. Still, him calling at all is enough for your heart to race, and although it was late at night, you didn't mind at all.

For him, you'd jump up at 4 am if you had to.

"-Hey."

It's painfully obvious he has no idea what to say, probably just wanting to hear you speak more than anything else. The sound of his voice ringing in your ear makes you smile a little, even if his greeting was almost comically abrupt. Then again, you did not expect him to make a lovey-dovey speech for you or anything. That's just not the type of man Leon was, and you had no qualms with that. Moreover, he was probably very tired, anyway. You weren't about to complain over him not sounding joyful enough when he already made the effort to call you in the first place.

"Hi," you reply, shifting to lay flat on your back, your gaze staring up at the ceiling. Without his warm body here to cuddle up to, your bed felt a bit too large for your liking. However, expressing such a thought outloud was way too sappy-sounding, even for you. So, you kept the sentiment to yourself. "Did not expect you to call. Did you get a free moment?"

An ocean away, Leon slouches into his own hotel bed, cluttered with belongings haphazardly thrown abound with not much care for hospitality, his phone in his hand. What he does know, however is that he wanted, no, needed you to be over here, with him, right now. But, alas, that's a wish too ambitious to be granted. So he settles for the next best thing. And hearing your voice is definitely no reason to complain about.

He takes a deep breath, almost feeling as if his physical distance from you is the main cause of the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He missed your voice, touch, even your scent. It wasn't until he spoke to you again that he realized how much he had missed you.

"Yeah, I was surprised, too. The job's done, but they can't take me back to base yet because of the weather. So I'm just stuck here until further notice." He hesitates for a moment before adding, his voice taking on a more softer tone: "…Are you in the mood to keep me company?"

"-Is that even a question?" You laugh slightly, shaking your head, although he obviously couldn't see it from a phone call. Your reaction causes him to smile and chuckle to himself as well. God, he missed hearing you laugh. "How your mission went, by the way? Everything okay?"

Really, mission talk? His expectations were slightly higher than that.

"It was fine. Same bullshit. A bunch of bastards getting what they deserve." A part of him almost wants to act as though he's not truly alone in this dimly lit room, so he lets out another breath and turns over to lie on his stomach. It was hard to feel cozy when nothing about this place felt like home. Your voice helped with that, though. "I'm more interested in talking to you."

He hears you laugh under your breath again at his unenthusiastic answer. It wasn't necessary for him to say it outloud for you to understand that he was not interested in discussing work. Not that you blame him.

"The feeling's mutual, trust me," you murmur, a small smile audible in your voice. "Not to rush things before they happen, but I've been planning on making that braised steak for you when you get back. You know, the one you liked on Thanksgiving."

The notion of some homemade food instantly makes him feel a little more excited. The mere thought causes his tired eyes to light up a bit and his mouth to water. Guess men really don't need much to be happy, huh? What can he say, few things bring as much joy as a homemade meal from the one you love. Especially when he compares it to quick tasteless meals he got by with on the job.

"Oh really now?" His voice now has a somewhat lighter lilt to it, his words gradually regaining some of their emotion. "-Because that sounds like you're trying to butter me up for something."

He teases, but the excitement in his voice is very much genuine. You laugh, this time a muffled giggle, and the sound promts a small, warm smile to make its way onto his lips as he closes his eyes and concentrates solely on your voice through the speaker. This was nice.

"Is it so odd that I want to treat you to something?"

"-No, it's not odd. It's sweet. I appreciate it. I really do," he corrects softly, quietly expressing his appreciation. For a man who has endured far too much hardship for his age, it was refreshing to have someone care for him in such a simple yet meaningful way. After a brief peaceful pause, he speaks again in a somewhat quieter voice, nervously drumming his fingers on the bedsheets: "...Hey, can I ask... can I be a bit selfish with you for a second?"

The way he fidgets and murmurs out his request is almost bashful; it's a part of him that, all things considered, feels a little strange even to him. But he can't help it. You make him anxious, but not in the stuffy, claustrophobic way he's accustomed to. This type of anxiousness feels good. Exciting. A welcome contrast to the blood-curdling anxiety that was his unspoken partner on the job.

"How so?" You inquire, curiosity evident in your voice. You were oceans away - literally - so it's not like there was much for you two to do except talk. A part of him was honestly just going to ask you to stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep. It's a kind of a dumb request, which makes him embarrassed, but he doesn't really want to back down from it anyhow.

Leon bites his lip, slightly perplexed on how to go about it without just asking you upfront. He wasn't good at this whole 'subtlety' thing.

"I, uh… I just wanted to ask you to talk to me a little more. For a while, I mean." He pauses, lets out another sigh, and then shifts in his bed into a more comfortable position. To hell with this, he might as well just spill the beans to you now. "My mind's just filled with… crap. I’m tired. The 'I could sleep for a week straight' type of tired. But I know I’ll just end up tossing and turning for hours instead. I just... your voice would help."

You chuckle at that, the sound uplifting, as at least you're not bewildered by his request. He knows you'd gladly do a lot more than just talk for him if you were actually here. Which makes the whole separation even more difficult to deal with. He shifts onto his back, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling as he lays his head back against the pillow with a soft sigh.

"Well... I wish I could have you laying on top of me so I could play with your hair, but... I guess us just talking on the phone will have to do for now."

He feels a small, enjoyable shiver from the mental picture you conjured up for him. The sense of contentment he's always felt when you did that is something he knows by heart now. His brain always seemed to just shut itself down, nothing for him to focus on except for the sensation of your soothing touch in his hair. God knows he'd kill to have that right now.

"Yeah. You really know what to do to make me feel all better… I hate being apart like this." He shifts again, feeling a little restless due to your words and his own thoughts making him long for you ever more. He hesitates for a moment, his heart racing as he imagines your touch. If he tries hard enough, he swears he can nearly feel the ghost of your fingertips combing through his hair. "Keep going. Tell me something else."

His voice comes out a bit muffled, and he is inadvertently tightening his grip on the phone a little, almost as if it'll bring him closer to you, somehow.

"Like what?" You ask without hesitation. Well, it's better than you playing a guessing game with him, at least. You were notoriously horrible at those, anyways.

Leon takes a deep breath while he clumsily mimics your touch by idly running his fingers through his hair. His hands are not comparable to yours at all. They're rougher and completely different in size. He drops his hand back onto the sheets with a small, frustrated huff.

"Anything. Just... keep talking. Your voice, it’s…" He clears his throat and considers the precise words he should use here. He's sure on where he is going with this, either. He simply knew that he needed to hear you, and that this need was gradually developing into a full-on craving that was desperate to be satisfied. "I want to hear more of it. And... what you’d do to me if you were here."

That's subtle enough, he thinks. He's fine with you being the one to decide on the way to interpret him. He just wanted to listen to you.

But, admittedly, his brain had other ideas.

As Leon closes his eyes, his mind is racing with countless ideas, none of which are as innocent as a simple cuddle or a hand stroking through his hair. He imagines your weight settled on top of him, steadying him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your bodies mold and move together, skin to skin, with nothing but your presence there to fill his head with. Your sweet voice whispering all the things he wants to hear, your warm breath waffling over his ear.

All the ways in which you hold him, touch him, want him.

Your voice, which sounds nearly muffled through the pleasant fog buzzing in his head, jolts him out of his fantasy.

"Oh. ...Ohhh," you draw out, the realization clear in your voice. He almost snorts in endearment. Well, at least you caught on. His heart flutters in his chest with wordless excitement as the thought causes heat to rush to his face. Nearly subconsciously, he reaches for the other side of the bed with his free hand, almost as if you would be there. Which, of course, you're not. Much to his disappointment. "We're not... talking about cuddles here, are we?"

The tone of your voice changes, and Leon's breath catches a little. He can imagine how flushed your cheeks probably look, how your heart is beating a little faster at the realization. At this point, he was too worked up to restrain himself. Besides, the cat's out of the bag now. Not much point in walking back on his own words. Biting his lip, he lets his fingers slowly slide down his abdomen as he contemplates your words. Would you be up to what he has in mind? He hopes you would.

"No. No we’re not." He reaches for his belt and slowly starts to unfasten it. The button on his jeans is next. Then the zipper. The release of some tension causes him to inhale sharply, feeling the cool air against his skin, a small shiver running up his spine. He closes his eyes. "Keep. Talking."

His tone is direct, curt, rough. It's the same one often uses on the job, perfect for giving out clear orders in the heat of the moment, but using it under these circumstances definitely hits a little different. Especially for you. He can hear your breath quicken just a tiny bit, wordlessly reassuring him that you are, indeed, just as into this as he is. He smiles a little at the thought, feeling both relieved and little amused. He can imagine you lying there, your mind running hundred miles an hour to come up with a response while holding the phone up to your ear. He wonders if your other hand is wandering south now, too.

"Well I'd, uhm..." He lets you take your time and get your bearings, not hurrying you further. Hell, he's perfectly fine with you pulling out of this if it just wasn't clicking for you. He made his intentions clear. Now it was up to you to make the call, whatever it was. On any other day, he'd be the one getting all awkward over talking of these things outloud, but today, his mind is focused solely on your voice coming through the speaker. He hears you sigh, a sound steadying, and he feels himself smile. There you go. "I'd... want to kiss you. Long. Until we're both out of breath. And you get that dazed look in your eyes. You look so beautiful when you get like that. And just from me kissing you, too."

Leon listens to every word with keen interest, his eyebrows raising as you create a vivid picture in his mind for him to mull over. It was relatively tame, but it was a good starting point. Not to mention genuine. He can almost sense the warm touch of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. You calling him beautiful was a nice cherry on top, making his breathing quicken in turn.

With his movements jerkier and clumsier than usual due to the excitement that was now steadily flowing through his veins, he quickly pulls his shirt over his head. He doesn't really look where it lands, just throwing it somewhere to the side with zero regard for decency. Not like it matters.

With his eyes still closed, he moves his hand slowly down his bare chest, grazing each ridge of his abs with his fingertips before lowering it further. He tries to mimic the manner in which you would touch him from memory. It's not a flawless attempt, bit it's good enough in his books. He can't help but groan softly, finding himself wanting to press into his own touch, if only to feel even the fraction of how your affection would feel like upon his battered body.

"And then?" He prompts, his voice lower now, charged with underlying tension hanging in the air. He knows full well that you can probably sense the hunger and anticipation he's not trying very hard to conceal. He wishes he could actually see you right now. But, alas, this will have to do.

"-What are you doing right now?" Your voice breaks him out of his momentary fantasy, his heart picking up speed in his chest as he focuses on you: every little change in your breathing, the dip in your tone, the words you choose to say to him. He hears you swallow before continuing: "What would you have me do if I was there? I could... y'know, go from there."

His heart swells with affection as he laughs a little. You weren't very slick. Then again, you never were. He liked you for that. It was painstakingly clear that you were just eager to hear exactly what he was up to. He was happy you were enjoying yourself.

He moves again, lying on his side, and switching the phone to loudspeaker while resting it on the cushion next to him before sitting back up to get comfortable. His own breath comes out shakily now, charged with rising arousal. Slowly, his other, free hand moves up his stomach, stopping at his chest. He huffs softly as he imagines your touch.

"I’d… I’d have you sit here." He moves his hand up to one of his pectorals and squeezes slightly as he pictures your fingers squeezing at his flesh instead. The action, along with his imagination, makes him bite his lip again, sucking in a breath through his nose. "Right in my lap."

He can’t help letting out a quiet 'fuck...' as he imagines you on top of him, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him, long and deep. Oh, what he wouldn't give just to have you close and to feel your lips against his again. He misses you so much that it's a little humiliating, but his mind is too hazy to care. No, all he cares about is you touching his bare skin with your hands, stroking the rising flames of his desire with every cares. Lost in the fantasy of your hand taking the place of his own, his hand slides higher up and touches his chin, causing sparks to bloom on his skin as he tilts his head back. He'd be just as pliant with you here, if not even more so. Just to feel wanted by you.

His mind is buzzing from the faint sounds of your own breathing coming through the speaker, which he can hear stuttering and quickening through the delightful fog filling his head. He doesn't push you into talking if you dont want to. However, he is well aware that you are not merely listening to him while innocently laying in your bed. He knows you well enough now to catch onto your state of arousal through the change in your breathing alone. He likes the thought of you doing the same as him right now. He hears some muffled shuffling on the other end of the line, something akin to bed covers being tousled around before you reply to him.

"On your lap," you repeat, almost as if testing out the idea in your head. Your tone is tight, and he can hear you take a single steadying breath before continuing: "I'd like that."

"Good," he finds himself responding, a faint smile on his lips. It's a small encouragement, just to let you know he's very much enjoying himself. To his surprise, you continue without any further promting from him.

"-I'd love to treat you after you get back. Just have you lay back and feel good while I take care of everything. Relax. You deserve it."

Your comments cause Leon's breath to catch abruptly, and he lets out a small, trembling gasp. He was not ready to hear something like that front you right now. In the best way possible. He is able to practically sense your presence and the grounding weight of your body upon him. As he runs his hand back down his chest and over his abs, they begin to tremble slightly.

"Fuck…" He groans lowly again, his brows drawing together in concentration as he pictures you in his lap. Your warmth against his hardening length, the way your hips would push against his.

His other hand mindlessly slides down as he palms himself through his jeans, his breath stuttering at much-needed stimulation. His hips jolt to press up firmly into his touch, imagining it's your hand instead of his own. He visualizes your fingers moving slowly down his chest. You kissing him all over as you usually do, leaving a trail of warm kisses down his hips and abdomen. He shivers and curses under his breath as the heat coiling in his gut only gets stronger.

"Leon?" It takes all of his inner strength not to whimper in response to your voice, which sounds both uncertain and needy. God, you just had to say his name of all things, huh?

"Keep going. Tell me more," he pants out softly, his voice rough with need. "Would you touch me?"

You laugh at that, and the sound makes him chuckle in response, his heart strangely light in his chest despite the intimate mood. You both sound so breathless. He likes that.

"Is that even a question?" You repeat the same thing you told him just minutes prior, and he can't help but snort. You got him there, he'll give you that. Though, your lighthearted playfulness soon shifts back into hushed arousal. "...Everywhere. Would love to touch you all over."

He swallows.

"Oh yeah? Seems like we both have the same idea."

You pause for a long time, and just as he's about to encourage you to speak your mind or reassure you, you beat him to it. And, boy, do you catch him off-guard.

"Just... Imagining riding you slowly. Make us both really feel all of it, every touch. I want to kiss at your neck, too... taste your skin, feel you shiver. And have my hands roaming all over you, too. Want to treat you right. Feel you."

...Oh, damn.

Leon moans at your words as he squeezes his length through his jeans a little. You just set his mind into overdrive. It's everything he wants and more. Your hands on his skin, your lips trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, making him forget anything and everything but you and your touch. The way your hips would move against his, slowly and sensually, drawing out the pleasure until it becomes unbearable. At this point, his dick is practically aching to be touched, throbbing in the confines of his jeans.

"Jesus," he breathes out, a small, breathless chuckle following suit. Needless to say, you have him wrapped around your finger, even miles upon miles apart. He wouldn't have it any other way. "Keep talking like that and I'll lose it."

"Maybe I want to hear you lose it," you suggest to him softly, almost like you were testing the waters with what you could say to him. The idea makes him want to laugh. You didn't need to worry about a single thing with impressing him.

He quickly reaches for the waistband of his jeans and tugs them down just enough to free himself from the stiffling fabric. He exhales a shuddering breath as cool air hits his heated skin, a sense of relief accompanying the movement. He wastes no time wrapping his fingers over his cock, slowly stroking himself, still imagining your hand in its place instead of his own. Meanwhile, his other hand slides back up his chest, following the trajectory your touch would follow according to his memory. As he imagines you playfully nibbling at the side of his neck and whispering more sickeningly sweet dirty things into his ear, he shivers and gently rolls his thumb over his nipple.

"...Wish you were here," he exhales. He's losing himself in a fantasy that you two have created thus far, and it's getting easier and easier for him to just speak without hesitation or embarrassment. "Want your hands on me. Hips, stomach, chest, cock… everywhere."

In response, he hears you whine, and his mind generously conjures up a variety of possibilities for what you may be doing at the moment, each one more provocative than the last. What he wouldn't give to touch you right now, God. To be the reason behind those lovely sounds you are making.

"-So touch yourself," you instruct, your words barely above a whisper, your breaths coming out in small, shaky puffs of air, each one shooting straight to his groin. "Touch yourself like I would touch you right now. God, I would love to feel you under my hands..."

Leon shudders at your words, his cock throbbing in his hand as he instinctively bucks up, his breath faltering. A low groan leaves his lips, in equal measure in response to you as well as his touch. This time, he imagines you watching him, your own hand on yourself as well. Your lips parted and your cheeks flushed with arousal as you look at him dutifully.

"Fuck… I am,” he pants out, his hand moving a tad faster over his length. He senses himself leaking, the tip of his cock slick with precum. He spreads it around with his thumb, squeezes at the base, and then draws his hand back up. He bites his lip to stop another moan from slipping out, though, at this point it seems to be a futile effort. He's surprised he hasn't tasted blood yet. "Your hands would feel so good right now… so much better than mine…"

"Leon..." He hears you moaning out his name, and he swears that he almost came right then and there from the sound of it alone.

His free hand slides back up to his chest, gently squeezing at one of his nipples with the tips of his fingers. He pulls at it lightly, his brain picturing your teeth instead of his fingers. His back arches up towards the touch, a low groan leaving his lips.

"Tell me… where would you touch me?" He asks, his voice strained. "Be direct."

Your breath catches, as though you're taken aback by his question. But he was greedy, and he wanted more. He could feel his insides twisting and turning in the pit of his stomach, and not in a bad way. His spiraling brain almost couldn't handle the mental image of you touching yourself while on the phone with him, even though he was doing that exact same thing.

"Your chest," you murmur breathlessly, almost like the words were stealing your breath away as you shared them with him. And yet, you went on: "I want to touch your chest. Caress you all over... Squeeze at you, play with your nipples while I kiss the side of your neck and listen to you gasp and whine. Just like you like it."

Leon instantly visualizes your touch on him and lets out a deep wanton moan.

"Yes," he exhales. "Like that. Miss you..."

"-Miss you, too... so much." His head reels as you echo those words back to him in that breathy, almost whiny tone, and his hips automatically buck up into his hand in an attempt to feel what he perceives to be your touch.

He groans softly, running his hand over his chest, more to tease than to touch. Just as you said, he circles his nipple again and rolls the hardened bud under his thumb. Squeezing it just the way you would for him if you were here. Even if it's a poor substitute for the real thing. "Your mouth, too. Want it all."

Using his precum as lube, he begins to stroke himself quicker, rougher. He moves his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a bit at the tip before returning back to the base in a familiar technique. Seeking the increasing pleasure coiling in his gut, he thrusts his hips up into his hand.

And as he hears every tiny sound of pleasure coming from your end, his desire for more only intensifies. You seem to be enjoying yourself just as much, stuttered breaths and muffled whines flowing through the receiver. He is saddened by the fact that he cannot see you in person at this moment in all your glory. But, this will have to do.

You exhale.

"Yeah," you encourage softly, your own voice breathy and hushed with arousal. "I'm right there with you."

"-Wish you were," he gasps out, his eyes shut tight as he wills himself to somehow bring this fleeting fantasy to life, however briefly. "Would feel so much better with you here."

"I am. Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. My hands stroking you, my mouth on your skin... Whatever you want. I'll give it to you. You deserve it."

Leon's already thin breaths come out in unsteady gasps as a result of your sweet encouragements. Your breathy and needy voice is somehow making him even more aroused than he already is, if that was even possible. His free hand descends to roam over his abdomen, primarily to visualize your hands mindlessly stroking his flesh. It's maddening.

"Fuck, you are too good at this…" He pants out, his hips thrusting up into his hand. Instead of continuing to trace over his lower abdomen, his hand reaches up to comb through his hair, just like you would, the delightful sensation sending jolts of pleasure directly to his cock. "Too good to me. Want to touch you, too. Whatever you want."

In order to give himself greater room to move around without experiencing any discomfort, he spreads his legs somewhat wider. He inadvertently starts to imagine you in a position between them, your head bobbing up and down as you take him in. His cock throbs at the mere thought, another droplet of precum dripping from its tip. Oh, he's lost it completely.

He listens to you groan quietly, and the realization that his words have the same impact on you as yours do on him makes him feel proud. The sound of your pleasure creates a fuzzy sensation in his head, blocking out all thoughts but you, you, you. His mind creates a fairly realistic image of what you are doing at the moment, even while he is itching to actually see you. And, God, was that picture irresistible.

"I want that too... Want to make you feel good."

Leon slightly squeezes the base of his cock at your whispered wants, another shudder rippling through him. He is acutely aware that he is getting close now, his balls drawing up tight and a growing coil of tension simmering deep in his gut.

"-Shit, I'm so fucking close," he pants heavily, his hips thrusting up into his hand steadily. He imagines you straddling him, riding him with all you have until you are both a gasping, trembling mess. Your hands wrapped snuggly over his neck and your lovely eyes on him the whole way through. The moan that comes out of him at the thought is borderline obscene as his head falls back, hot pleasure coiling in his gut until it's borderline unbearable. He does have enough sense in him left to warn you, though, however clumsy. Or maybe ask for permission. He isn't sure, and he is far too dazed to figure it out. "Jesus, fuck, going to cum-"

"That's alright, let go, I want to hear you," you coo at him softly through shaky puffs of air, a hint of urgency laced in your words. You were obviously getting impatient yourself while listening to him enjoying himself, whether that meant you were getting close or not. Either way, it was hot. "Cum for me, Leon. Please."

He didn't need to be told twice.

It only takes him a couple more rough strokes before he comes to a halt and shudders, his cock spurting ropes of his release into his hand and stomach, a broken gasp of your name leaving his lips in a desperate mantra before the pleasure slowly subsides. He's left panting, catching his breath from the pleasurable high of his orgasm as he plops back down on the bed, letting his body relax and gather its bearings.

"Jesus Christ, that was... wow..." He exhales, his voice ragged. As his mind gradually clears from the haze of pleasure that clouded his senses moments prior, he laughs softly, his voice full of tiredness and a hint of sheepishness. He turns his head to the phone, almost like he'd see you there. "You okay? Did you...?"

...He didn't even check if you came or not. Now he kind of feels like an ass.

"Y-Yeah. Just now." Because of your stuttering breaths, your words are a little unsteady. Whether you came with him or moments after, he doesn't really care. He's just glad you were left satisfied, too. Somewhat. Really, this was still more about him than you. He should fix that next time you do this.

He lets out a soft and warm chuckle at the thought. Next time. He was already thinking of next time, huh? Either way, that familiar subtle tremor in your voice makes him smile to himself, wishing he could reach out and stroke your cheek with the back of his hand right now.

"Good. I'm... I'm glad. Got worried there for a sec." He reaches over and grabs a tissue off his nightstand to quickly clean himself up. After tossing the tissue away, he leans back against the bed, feeling completely relaxed. "That was... something. Definitely needed that. Thank you."

A pleasant sense of calm washes over him as he sighs, closing his eyes. The subtle ache in his muscles and post-organasmic bliss is a welcome contrast to the constant tension he was dealing with lately.

"Happy to hear that." While he's unable to see you, he can still hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile in turn. You take a deep, steadying breath, some rustling following suit as you probably clean yourself up and get comfortable. He didn't prod you. It didn't feel awkward at all when you were on the line with him. Despite his wish for you to actually be here.

"...I can't wait to see you again. To actually hold you, kiss you, make up for lost time," he promises, his voice unusually soft and intimate. "Tell you what, once I get back, we'll spend a whole weekend in bed, just the two of us. No phones, no work, no distractions. Just us."

His wistful smile is accompanied by the image of you in his bed, warm and cozy as you nuzzle up to him. God knows he didn't need anything more to be happy.

"That sounds lovely. I might just hold you to that," you giggle, those same familiar playful notes making their appearance again as you both come down from your highs.

"Hey... Do you mind staying with me on the line tonight? I don't... really want to hang up," he confesses, a bit embarrassed, but unwilling to just part with you so quickly. He can't help but feel a bit clingy.

"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."

He laughs at that, shaking his head.

"God, I love you."

"I love you more."

[leclerc-hs]

lucky (bonus!) - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend have sex for the first time. Warnings: BAD FRENCH! (I didn't get to check these translations so if they're wrong please correct me and I will fix!), smut, angst, cheating (oops) Word Count: 1,381 Author's Note: hi! I felt that Charles and Lucky having sex later in their friendship was the right move. I was in between making them younger, but it didn't feel right writing about teenagers having sex to me lmaoooo. I love you guys and hope that you enjoy!!! please leave feedback I love hearing from you all. xo PART 1 PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

HE WINS IN Spa; He wins in Monza!

The air was filled with a mix of adrenaline, joy, and the unmistakable scent of burnt rubber from the track. The vibrant red of the Ferrari flowed under the brilliant Italian sun, reflection the passion of this moment. The crowd’s cheers echoed, creating a symphony of celebration that seemed to envelop the entire circuit.

Your heart raced with a blend of pride and excitement, knowing that your best friend had achieved something extraordinary. The victory at the Ferrari home race was more than just a win; it was a triumph that would be etched in the annals of racing history.

Turning your attention to the podium, you marveled at the sight of your best friend standing tall, a champion stood above in the midst the cheering crowd. His racing suit adorned with the iconic prancing horse; he wore the victorious smile of someone who conquered not just the track but the hearts of fans worldwide.

The tears welled up in your eyes, a testament to the shared journey and countless hours of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice that led to this moment. You were so happy for him.

The podium ceremony unfolded with the spraying of champagne, and as the golden droplets shimmered in the sunlight, you couldn’t help but feel proud as you savored the moment completely. 

“Il s’est très bien debrouillé!” He did so well! You muttered to Lorenzo who greeted you with a big hug of excitement.

“Oui! You’re needed in his driver’s room,” Lorenzo responded with a smile. “Il m’a dit plus tôt.” He told me earlier. 

You patiently waited in his driver’s room, lounging on the compact leather couch. When the door swung open at last, with his race suit unzipped at his waist, you leaped to your feet with excitement. 

You cried out, “Mon dieu, Charlie!” My God, Charlie! before leaping right into his arms, clinging onto him tightly. “Je suis tellement fiere de toi!” I am so proud of you!

He felt his heart pound rapidly as you leaped into his arms. He wanted to tell you right then and there that he was in love with you.

“Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate! You waited for him to place you back down on your feet, but he never did. At least not as soon as you thought he would. He just held you there, staring at you as if you were the sun.

“My Lucky,” he says. “It’s all because of you.”

It was quick. One second, he was smiling at you as he held you up against him, and the next you were pressed against the door with his lips on yours. You felt your stomach clench from the heat of the kiss.

“Est-ce que c’est bon?” Is this okay? You nodded into the kiss. Yes – yes it’s okay. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. In fact, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. You both could blame it on the fact that he just won a major race or the rush of emotions from the win. But it was just love. Not that either of you would ever admit it.

His hips had you pinned to the wall, completely at his mercy, while his hands fumbled with the button of your jeans. “Puis je les enlever?” Can I take these off?

You didn’t provide a verbal response; instead, you assisted by pushing the jeans down and shimmying out of them. His fingers immediately nudging their way past your cotton panties and hooking two of them right into your center as his thumb rubbed your clit in quick circles.

“Tu es tremée,” You’re soaked. He moaned into your mouth, the vibration of his groan echoing hotly into your mouth.

You moaned back softly into his. Your moans alone were enough to send Charles into a rampage. He wanted to listen to you for eternity. It was in this moment, he thought he never wanted to hear anything else from your mouth again.

You skillfully removed his race suit from his hips before he guided you to the same compact sofa you just waited patiently on. His lips never left yours as you both fell to the couch – you now straddling him. 

You both were so frantic. So needy. The only time your mouths separated was for him to whisper the foulest things. They only fueled you to ride him harder.

You’re so fucking tight.

Just like that.

Squeezing me like you’re going to come, Lucky.

Such a good girl.

C’mon let me feel you come.

I can feel how fucking wet you are.

You both came simultaneously, heavy breaths exchanged into each other’s mouths. It was so hot.

The suddenness of it all left you breathless, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment. One second, his tongue was pushing its way into your mouth again. The next, you were pushing him away, standing up from the couch as you rushed to find your jeans and get them back on.

The reality began to sink in, a shadow over the fleeting moment. He has a girlfriend, a detail that changed the complexion of the situation. You felt sick to your stomach as the reality began to weigh down on you.

Although the term girlfriend was a bit of a stretch, you felt awful. But you didn’t regret it. You could never regret anything with Charles. He was your person. Your best friend. 

“Nous ne pouvons pas refaire ça.” We can’t do this again.

“Lucky.” His arms, once a source of comfort, now felt like constraints as he grasped you. The taste of his kiss lingered, but it was overshadowed by the bitter understanding that boundaries have been crossed.

You yearned for a different reality where his girlfriend didn’t exist, but the weight of the truth remained. Accepting, you grappled that some things were beyond your control. 

“Cha, c’est bien.” It’s okay.  With a heartfelt effort, you mustered up the biggest smile, gently cupping his face into your hands. Despite your warm gesture, his eyes reflected a sadness, a longing for something more, a desire that he couldn’t act upon. 

“Tu es mon meilleur ami.” You’re my best friend. “Nous oublierons que cela s’est produit.” We will forget that this happened.

Charles shook his head in disagreement at first, but you stopped him. You needed to shift the conversation. You were supposed to be out celebrating. “Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate!

You urged Charles to get dressed quickly. You needed to get out of the confines of this room.

Physically, Charles nodded with a smile, but internally, he felt nothing but pain in his heart. It’s always been you. He wanted to yell that she means nothing to him, that it’s you who means everything. 

“Allons-y,” Let’s go. You grabbed his hand, leading him out of the driver’s room to kick off your night of celebration, leaving the pressing issues behind. Pretending as if nothing changed. He was your best friend. You were his best friend. Nothing changed.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Charles found it unbearable. The attention you were attracting was driving him to the brink of madness as he sat in the booth of the club, with his girlfriend beside him.

“C’est toujours elle,” It’s always her. She leaned over into Charles ear. 

His so-called girlfriend wasn’t oblivious, like he thought. She always picked up on his gaze following you, his constant talk about you, and the fact you were consistently his top priority. Initially, she shrugged it off, given your close friendship. It only became apparent to her when she sensed that your needs started taking precedence over hers. 

She couldn’t even pretend to ignore the marks on his neck. 

“Quoi?” What? Charles finally glanced at her, breaking free from his trance on you. It only prompted laughter from her, evidence that his attention was solely fixed on you. He heard her though. He just didn’t want to acknowledge that he had been caught.

“You’re wasting my time,” his girlfriend muttered before standing up, grabbing her things to leave. “If you want her, tell her.” These were the final words she uttered to Charles before exiting the club, leaving him behind.

But little did she know that he had attempted to share his feelings for you numerous times. It just never worked out. The timing was always off. 

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 3

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, fluffy, mild angst, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: reader character dealing with anxiety from previous chapter (non-descriptive),hinted at trauma from fatphobia, hints of Jason's self esteem and body image issues, otherwise it's fluff central

word count: 2.2k (oops? 😅)

Chapter Selection

Ding!

I looked over at my phone, briefly considering not picking it up. When I got through my front door I had ripped my jeans off, suddenly hating everything touching me. I showered, scrubbing the night off until my skin was raw and tingling, and now I was curled up on my bed sheets, having a good cry. I didn't really want to talk to anyone right now…

Ding! Ding! … Ding!

God, whoever it was was insistent though … I sighed softly and picked it up, checking the messages:

Jason: Good morning! I am so sorry for the sudden disappearance - my phone broke on my way to visit my brother! 

3:15am

Jason: Just got back into town, so I've finally got the sim card in an old one for now.

3:17am

Jason: I feel bad, I owe you a week of good mornings! 😭

3:17am

Jason: And sorry for spamming you - I just didn't want you to think the worst for a second longer than necessary…

3:18am

I stared at the screen for a long while. Jason was back … just like Red Hood said. Huh… 

Me: Don't worry about it, shit happens!

3:40am

Jason: … What are you still doing up? 

3:41am

I briefly considered telling him everything. Maybe it would feel good to tell someone … or maybe it would feel even worse. We didn't really know each other yet, who knew how he would react? Nausea gripped my stomach and I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths before replying.

Me: Just got home is all. Picked up a late shift tonight.

3:50am

Jason: That's a hell of a late shift, that must have sucked!

3:52am

Me: … Yeah, honestly it wasn't great… 😔

3:53am

Jason: What are you doing tomorrow?

3:54am

Me: Nothing in particular, y?

3:56am

Jason: That settles it then! No more excuses, come hell or high water I will see you tomorrow!

3:56am

I stared at the screen, not sure how to feel about that idea. I did want to see him again, but I also really just wanted to sleep for 48 hours straight…

Jason: Seriously, name a time and place. We'll do anything you want! 😁

3:59am

Me: You don't have to do that, Jason - you just got back! Don't you need to work?

4:00am

Jason: Nope! We came back a day early, so I am all yours!

4:02am

Me: … All mine, huh? 😏

4:05am

Jason: 100%! Anything you want, name it!

4:06am

Me: … Gotham City Mall, meet in front of the bookstore at … say 4?

4:08am

Jason: Perfect, see you in 12 hours! Good night

4:08am

Me: Good night Jason

4:09am

I was exhausted, but couldn't seem to sleep. I was still coming down from the anxiety and adrenaline from being attacked, and now I was also nervous and tentatively excited about seeing Jason. This was the step that usually proved someone was playing games with me. I sighed softly, sliding a hand down my soft tummy. I didn't mind the way I was shaped, but other people sure had a way of making it seem like the end of the world… I silently begged the universe; let this one be good. No more games, let it be real this time…

When I finally did sleep, my dreams were filled with red. Blood all over the pavement, staining everything. Red chrome staring me down as I cried. Large hands, so gentle against my cheeks, pulling me against a warm, broad chest…

I woke with a start and peered over at my discarded clothes in a heap from the night before. Red Hood's flannel peaked out from under my ruined pants, taunting me; I was about to go on a date and I was dreaming about another man? A man I was surely never going to see again no less? That's real healthy, well done Brain.

I stepped over the clothes on the floor, not wanting to deal with the mess left over from last night, and selected a cute but comfortable outfit. I ate a quick breakfast, spent longer than I'd care to admit on my hair and makeup, and headed downstairs to catch the bus to the mall.

My anxiety grew as I approached the front doors. It’s a trick, it must be a trick. The cold air conditioning hit me in the face, a welcome respite from the summer heat, and I made my way toward the bookstore. He's a hottie, and really sweet. Or at least knows how to play sweet. He's definitely not actually interested. I could see the sign for the bookstore on the other side of the mall. And he's a Wayne too! What could a Wayne want with me?? … Oh god, I threatened them, didn't I? I told the little one I'd stab them if they came back to the table. Why did I say that???

I blinked a bit, pausing. That was him, leaned against the wall right next to the bookstore. He had actually shown up. I watched him scroll on his phone for a minute before looking up and scanning the crowd. When his eyes landed on me I continued walking toward him. He pocketed his phone, kicked off the wall, and walked over to meet me, a little grin lighting up his face.

“You're actually here…” the words left my mouth before I could reconsider, my disbelief apparent in my tone. Jason looked a bit confused at that, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Well, yeah? … You said 4, right?”

“Sorry! Yes, I said 4. I just … I honestly wasn't sure this was … real…”

“Why wouldn't it be real?”

I blushed a bit, clearing my throat slightly; “n- never mind! Sorry, I had a weird week; my brain hasn't fully caught up.”

He nodded a little, smiling gently. “Well, I hope it's getting better at least.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is. Thanks. … So, what should we do?”

“Like I said last night; anything you want.”

“Well, … we're right here, do you want to start at the bookstore?”

He nodded and fell into step beside me, smiling gently. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked into the store, browsing the aisles. It was odd how comfortable this was; he was a good half foot taller than me, and at least 200 pounds of pure muscle. If his arms and cheek were any gauge he was absolutely covered in old scars, and he had a bandage on one forearm so whatever gave him the scars probably wasn't confined to the past.

I should be terrified - everything about my upbringing told me this was a dangerous situation to be in. But when I saw the look in his eyes, like I was the most interesting thing in the world, all of my self-defense training fell out of my head. The voices urging me to get to safety quieted, all my instincts stilled, and there was peace. His eyes were so beautiful… 

“... Is there something on my face?” He blushed a bit, chuckling awkwardly.

I blinked, looking away. “Sorry! I wasn't staring, I just …”

“... Did you want to ask about this?” he pointed to the scar on his cheek.

“Huh? No! I have a policy of not asking people about stuff like that; you'll tell me or not on your own time. No, I just … I like your eyes is all …’’ I blushed brightly, staring at but not reading the back cover of a book.

“... My eyes?” I nodded, still pretending to read the back cover. “... You're really not going to ask about my scars?”

“Unless you want to talk about them, it's not any of my business.”

“... You're a very unusual girl.”

“Because I'm not going to pry about something you may or may not want to talk about, particularly on a first date?”

“Well, they're usually the first thing anyone wants to talk to me about. If they don't avoid me in the first place…”

I frowned a bit at that. If we met under any other circumstances, I would have taken one look at him and ducked my head to avoid an interaction. “... People suck…”

“It's not their fault; I'm intimidating…” I cautiously looked over at him. He was also staring at a book cover, a pensive little frown on his face.

“... I don't think you're intimidating.”

His eyes darted over and back to the book, and the corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly. “... Thanks.”

I nodded, setting the book down. “.... So …”

“So? …”

“... Play a game?”

He chuckled, looking over at me. “A game?”

I nodded. “You tell me some of your favorite things in books, I'll tell you some of mine. We separate, select a few of our favorites that the other might like, and reconvene.”

“Alright. Is there a way to win this game?”

“Well I assume we'll each pick at least one book the other hasn't read, so we'll get to make each other read at least one of our favorites. That sounds like a win to me.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Meet back up at those comfy chairs in the back?”

I nodded, telling him some of my favorite tropes, genres, and settings. He did the same, and we darted in opposite directions. He beat me back there, but I eventually approached with a small stack, falling into the seat next to him.

He gestured toward my books; “ladies first.”

I tucked my feet under me, passing him each book in turn and making a case for it. He took each one, read the back cover, and listened intently. He had read one of them, and I figured he'd pick one of the others, if that, but he insisted he was going to get them all. When it was his turn, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but Pride and Prejudice wasn't the first thing that came to mind. 

“I've seen a few movie adaptations, but I haven't gotten around to reading it.” I smiled softly, taking the book. It was a beautiful blue cover with swirling calligraphy font in gold.

“An unparalleled tragedy - I insist this is the one you're taking home!” I giggled at his determined tone and nodded.

“Yes, sir!” I made a little mock salute, trying not to smirk at the sudden wave of pink overtaking his face. “... Well, what else do you have for me?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking at the books in his hands. “Ah, um …”

One by one he passed me Hamlet, the Three Musketeers, a book of Greek myths, and … a trashy romance?

“... Not gonna lie, this is an unexpected choice.” I read the back. It looked like your typical bodice ripper.

He chuckled, blushing a bit. “Look, it was the only book I had access to one day and I was losing my mind with boredom. But if you give it a chance, it's actually really well written, and the love interest isn't one of those creepy possessive guys the genre is known for, so …”

I nodded, taking a picture of the book covers. “I will give it a chance then!”

“... Why are you taking a picture of them?”

“... To get later? I'll start with this one, since you were so determined that I read it.” I held up Pride and Prejudice. Jason gathered up the others, putting them on his stack, then gently took Pride and Prejudice from me as well.

“Or I could just get them for you.” 

“What? Jason, no. I mean, that’s really sweet of you, but that's way too much!” Between the books he'd picked out for me and the ones I'd selected for him, he was holding at least $200 in his hands. And he'd picked the pretty hardcovers too! 

He shook his head. “I've had to cancel on you at least 5 times, and then I disappeared with no warning. You have been incredibly patient and understanding, and I will make today worth it.”

I blushed brightly, a bit surprised. “Jason, … you're worth waiting for. I enjoy talking to you, you don't have to spend money on me for today to be worth my time.”

He looked away uncomfortably, bright red, holding the stack of books to his chest. “... I … I like talking to you too … just let me do this, yeah? Call it a first date splurge.”

“... Alright, if you're sure. But I don't want you making a habit of this.”

He nodded, smiling softly. “Don't worry; I know you're a strong, independent woman.”

I nodded once, chuckling. “Damn right.”

Jason grinned, god he had an infectious grin, and led me to stand in line together. He held the stack of books in one hand, and we chatted a bit more while we waited for our turn. I was looking at a selection of little plushies in the impulse items when I felt something brush ever so slightly against my finger. I looked down; his trembling hand was next to mine, his pinky slightly extended toward me. I chuckled softly, extending mine toward him, and gently linked our fingers together. He stiffened ever so slightly before relaxing into it, gently squeezing back.

Next ->

Divider by @saradika (and my thanks for making them free to use!)

Taglist (let me know in the comments if you want to be added or dropped!)

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona

[kingkat12]

the mark of death (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: angst, blood, bodily harm, the title oop

summary: Roman has been gone for too long tonight-- what happens when you eventually find him?

word count: 1,379

a/n: happy halloween!! this is definitely a genre i don't dabble in very often, so i apologize in advance... this is taking dark!Roman to the next level, but i'm feeling experimental, so hope you'll enjoy!!<33 but beware pls pls

"Why?" Roman's voice was low, on the brink of breaking, as his grip around my throat held me pinned against the cold brick wall behind me. "Why would you come down here? I told you-- I tried to keep you safe, and you leave me with no choice now! For fuck's sake!"

This was probably the worst night of my life so far. Everything suddenly made sense-- everything. The nights Roman would disappear and come back with bloodstains on his clothes, the way he'd act around me when I was on my period, and the one time I caught him eating a completely raw piece of meat in the middle of the night with a crazed look in his eyes.

I thought he was odd. That he maybe had some weird cravings. That the blood on his clothes was from nosebleeds, that he perhaps had a weird period kink he didn't want to share-- I had pushed it all away, focused on my love for him, but it all made sense tonight. 

I initially thought he was cheating on me, which compelled me to check his location. I tracked him down to this alleyway when he didn't answer his phone. It was about three in the morning, the sun had yet to rise, I was worried out of my mind-- but I found him crouched over a dead man, and his face was covered with red, dripping blood as he finally turned to me.

Having my boyfriend's bloody face up in mine was something I never thought would happen. Roman's pupils were completely blown, and I could see the uncomfortable twitch of his jaw— probably due to the extra set of teeth that had ripped through his gums to abide the killing of his prey. 

Why hadn't I caught onto the fact that he was a upir? Why, why, why?

The smell of iron stained the walls of my nose, making me want to throw up. I sniffled, my eyes darting towards the lifeless body of the man a few steps away from us.

My fingers were digging into Roman's hands, nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin as I attempted to claw my way out of his hold. Despite my trachea being left untouched as of now, my breaths came out in short, laboured grunts, fighting him. "Get-- off!"

Roman groaned, pressing his body further up against mine; "Answer me!" A mix of fear and anger swam in his deep green eyes, the anguish present in the breaking of his voice. "Why did you come down here?!"

I was about to burst into tears. I would've, if I wasn't so scared. "I was worried!" I yelled, holding back my building sobs. "You've been so weird recently, I just-- hah, wanted to find out why! I was worried, Roman! But now I see it's been obvious, all this time!" 

With widening eyes, Roman let out a shaky breath. "It can't have been obvious," he breathed, jaw clenched. "No one has found out. Ever... And no one can know."

Fuck-- I was terrified out of my mind. "I'm your girlfriend, Roman, you could've told me!" At this point, I was kicking at him to get away as tears pressed up in my eyes; it was clear that I shouldn't have done that. In a swift motion, the grip around my throat tightened, his free hand reaching down to pin my body further against the wall to stop my thrashing. 

That was it-- "Fuck you!" I cried, the wave of choked tears finally rushing down my cheeks as my fear heightened in my chest.

Roman didn't find any pleasure in this. "Stop it," he hissed. "Stop moving, you're making things harder!"

"What things?!" My hands went to his jacket, bunching up the collar in my hands in a panic. "It's just me! I love you, please-- Let go of me!" 

"I told you to stay home," Roman echoed, his grip around my throat lifting just a little. I could see the guilt in his eyes, the horror, but I watched as it distorted into what I could only classify as instinct. "I told you... Why don't you ever listen?" With his last words, he pushed me against the brick wall, causing a sharp blow to my head.

I let out a pained sob, attempting to kick him once more. Enraged, Roman grabbed my body, dragging us both down to the ground, his tall body hovering above mine as I cried against him. "Don't!" I cried, shutting my eyes in fear. "Don't, Roman, I love you, please don't!--"

"Shut up!" He loomed above me, visibly torn as a drop of blood ran down his chin and onto my cheek. I shivered in disgust, squirming in his grip as I sobbed; "I won't tell a soul, I swear! I promise, I won't! Just let me go, you won't ever see me again!"

Roman sighed, his brows drawing together in conflict and heartbreak. He didn't want to do what he knew he had to. "I told you," he breathed, his grip around my body tightening. "I told you to stay home. I didn't want you to see this... It's not safe for anyone to know what I truly am."

"It's-- It's okay!" I tried. My breath hitched as I forced my eyes open, realizing I was pleading for my life. "It's not your fault, Roman, just let me go! You have urges, I understand, but I swear, I promise, I won't!--"

My desperate ramble was cut off when he leaned down to kiss me. I nearly threw up in my mouth; the taste of blood, the smell of iron, the way he forced his tongue into my mouth-- I had never been this nauseous. It felt like the kiss lasted for hours, days, as I pleaded with the heavens above for it to be over soon. Those plush lips that I never wanted to leave me before, were now causing me discomfort I had never felt in my life-- I wanted him gone. I didn't want to be here anymore.

This was a goodbye, wasn't it? 

When Roman finally pulled away, I was sure my face had turned blue with the lack of air in my lungs. I could see in his eyes that the game was over, that he had already made up his mind.

I let out a scared, broken sob, feeling the sticky blood stain my mouth as my tears ran down my face. "I love you," I truly had, with all my heart. "Don't do this. Please don't."

It was too late. I saw it in Roman's eyes, the way they hollowed out as he hovered above me like an animal with its prey. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "No one can ever know, not even you--" Before he could finish his sentence, Roman's jaw started cracking open, almost against his will. The sounds alone were enough to terrify me beyond limits-- the cracking of his bones made me squirm in fear, and my horror didn't subside at the sight of his sharp teeth. 

A look of dread streaked him as he fixated on the blood around my mouth-- he had marked me. The mark of death. 

I let out a scream when Roman's sharp teeth sunk into me, tore through the muscles of my neck, drained me of every drop of life as I clawed at him, fighting with all my might. It lasted a minute, and I felt the rain on the ground seep into my clothes, making the fight one I knew I couldn't win. 

Even worse, was the feeling of his tears against my neck, his hard breathing, the slight tremble in his hands as he held me down— I love you too.

Despite his all-taking sorrow, Roman was meticulous. He had done this before. So, as my arms fell limp against the cold ground, he slowly retreated from my dead body with shaky steps. He covered his bloodied mouth with his hand, suppressing the urge to throw up.

"Stupid girl," he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut in horror. "Stupid. Stupid."

Roman bent down, his tears staining my shirt as he wrapped his arms around me, dragging my body down along the dark alley. He didn't get very far— with a sob, he succumbed down on his knees, holding me against his chest. 

No one will ever know.

[jointherebellion215]

Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

[keikikait]

ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛ (ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: biker!megumi x f!reader (au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 2k

summary: after a rude encounter with your next door neighbour, you decide to spend distance yourself from him, spending most of your nights at a friends house.

warnings: SMUT (masturbation, f & m), MINORS DNI 18+, suggestive flirting, not proofread (oops), jealous megumi, slight self deprecation talk (so ig a slight angst warning)

a note: i promise part 3 won't be delayed as much!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Things have gotten worse since you last spoke.

Each day begins with the jarring sound of his motorcycle revving right outside your window, shattering the tranquility of the morning. The noise reverberates through your whole apartment, making it impossible to ignore. And to make matters worse, he started blasting the worst rap music you’ve ever heard from a portable speaker while he works on his bike on Saturday afternoons. The cacophony of noise fills the air, making it impossible to concentrate or find any semblance of peace within your own home. 

Even though you’ve been trying to avoid him, checking outside your window a few too many times before leaving so you don’t run into him, he’s still been plaguing your mind. You had caught him like a cold or the flu, and now you’re praying that you’ll one day be immune. Sleeping was practically impossible, even the strongest earplugs and the loudest white noise couldn’t block out the sound of his, frankly, stupid fucking bike. You go to work irritable and exhausted, having to hype yourself up in the bathroom before clocking in. You dread going home, begging your manager to let you work late, trying to find every excuse to hang back and avoid your inevitable negative interaction with Megumi.

After days of sleepless nights and endless worry, you had finally reached your breaking point. With a heavy heart, you had mustered up the courage to do something you'd been dreading — ask a friend for a favor. With trembling hands, you dialed your friend Yuji’s number, hoping that he would understand. To your immense relief, he listened patiently and without judgment. You poured out your heart, sharing the sleepless nights and the constant fear that had become your reality.

To your surprise, Yuji didn't hesitate, offering you a place to stay for the days Megumi would wake up early to head to work, a sanctuary where you could finally rest and recharge. You accepted his offer, overwhelmed with gratitude, knowing it would give you the solace you desperately needed. The nights before Megumi's shifts became a routine. You would gather your belongings and head to Yuji's place, seeking refuge from the darkness that seemed to engulf your apartment. 

Each night, you would lie awake in your friend's spare bedroom, listening to the sounds of the outside world. The gentle hum of traffic, the distant laughter of passersby — these were the sounds of a life that seemed so far removed from your own. Part of you loved your time spent away from Megumi. Part of you didn’t. Even though he was annoying, stuck up, and frankly a bitch, he was so pretty to look at. You couldn’t help yourself sometimes, sneakily taking glances at him through your window while he worked on his bike, shirtless and sweating under the Japanese summer sun.

You felt guilty in a way. He hated you, yet you didn’t hate him. Why are you hanging on so tight? You wanted to hate him so badly, especially while you were laying propped up on your bed, had between your soft thighs as you thrust two fingers in and out of your cunt. You couldn’t help yourself, biting your duvet cover to keep yourself from moaning his name too loudly while you came, hips bucking into your hand while you imagined the ways he would talk you through it. You couldn’t help but imagine how handsome he would look with you all over his mouth, grinning at you as you beg to cum. Would he let you? Sometimes you would get carried away, sliding your fingers over your clit to draw out another orgasm, one that would leave you silent curled in a ball on your bed. Megumi seemed like the type to overstimulate you just for fun, after all. He clouded your mind, engulfing you with visions of him encased in smoke. He was beautiful, finite, a shining white light you had a hard time looking at. You were, quite frankly, down bad. 

Suffer does the wolf, crawling to thee.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

On the other side of the plaster wall, Megumi was having a similar experience. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, hoping if he revved his engine loud enough in the mornings you would come outside, all cute and grumpy with bedhead, yelling at him to quiet down. Maybe you would only be wearing a T-shirt too. He wondered what panties you would be wearing. Cotton? Lace? None at all?

He noticed your glances while he was working on his bike. After all, he did it shirtless hoping you would stare. All he wants is your attention, and can you blame him? You’re so soft and pretty, and all he wants to do is scoop you up and kiss you before bending you over his desk, his hand gripping your hair at the root as he fucks you dumb. He thinks about what you would sound like while he fucks you as he jerks off, one hand playing with his balls while the other strokes his cock up and down, teasing the tip with his fingers. He wonders what you would look like on your knees next to his bed, his cock draped across your face as you suck on his balls. He moans quietly when he cums, the liquid splattering onto his chest and abs and he wishes you were around to lick it up. Maybe after he would tug on your hair and have you thank him.

Megumi noticed a lot of things. He couldn't help but notice certain the frequent absences from your usual routine. With each passing day, Megumi's curiosity grew, and he started to pay closer attention to your whereabouts. That’s when he saw it, a dark blue car consistently parked at the entrance of the alleyway leading to your apartment building, the one you would climb in and out of on the days you were gone, the days you were away from him. Of course he took a note of the car, writing down the make and the model and the license plate, just in case.

Something else Megumi started noticing was your moans. You got braver and louder each time, and soon he noticed the way you would gasp and whimper and the little noise you made before you came. Megumi soon started feeling something he hadn’t felt in a while, jealousy. You had a boyfriend or a fuck-buddy, and whoever they are was able to make you cum. That part irritated him, he wanted to be the only one that could make you cum and shake on his cock or his tongue. The semantics of your relationship didn’t matter to him, but you were with someone who wasn’t him. So he waited for you to return, leaning against the railing of his small porch. He knew your schedule now, and you should be home any second. 

As the car pulls up, its headlights shine directly onto him, causing Megumi to avert his eyes. He watches as you step out of the car, bidding the driver, whom he can see now is a guy, farewell before making your way toward your door. The gravel crunched as the car reversed and smoothly drove away, leaving you and him standing alone in the tranquil evening. With a nimble hop, he crossed the railing and approached you, a faint smile playing across his lips. The world seemed to pause for a moment, as if time itself stood still, as you locked eyes with each other.

“Hey.” He says, climbing up onto your porch, swinging his legs over the barrier, and landing on his feet.

You don’t look up as you search for your keys. “You could’ve used the stairs.”

He grins. “Maybe I wanted to impress you.” The comment makes your cheeks warm, but you don’t reply as you continue to search through your seemingly endless tote bag. He sighs, “Listen, I have a question.”

You look up at him, and gods he is so pretty. You feel your blush deepen, trying not to gawk at the way his shoulders and arms look in that fucking black compression shirt. “Ask away.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “So, you got a boyfriend?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “No. Why?” You finally find your keys, pulling them out as they jingle loudly from all of your keychains.

Megumi scoffs, keeping his arms crossed. “Come on. I’m not an idiot. I hear you moaning through the wall, you know.”

Your stomach lurches, your throat constricting. “Tha-that doesn’t mean anything.”

Megumi laughs, letting his arms drop to his side. “What about that guy that drives you everywhere?”

You put your key into the lock, swallowing hard. “He’s just my friend. I’ve been staying at his place recently-”

Megumi suddenly reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling the key out. “Don’t walk away. We’re having a conversation.” You gulp, holding onto your keys. He was right, that was kind of rude. “Continue.”

You take a shaky breath, unable to look him in the eyes, your gaze flicking around from the ground to the sunset behind him. “He’s just my friend. Nothing more.”

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Megumi asks, trying to get in your line of sight. “Don’t look over there. Look at me.” You nod, looking at him, muttering an apology. Megumi smirks. “Good girl.”

Your throat dries up. This man is driving you crazy, and you can feel your thighs getting slick under your skirt. You subconsciously squeeze them together. “He-he isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just my friend.”

Megumi nods. “But you sleep together, right?”

“No.”

Megumi hums in response, getting closer to you. You instinctively back up until you hit the other railing. He towers over you, and you’re greeted with the smell of his cologne and shampoo as he smirks down at you. “Then what has you moaning so prettily, hmm? Is there another guy in your life?”

You shake your head. “N-no, I’m doing it, you know…solo.”

Megumi’s shoulders drop in relief. You don’t have anyone else. Does that mean he can have you all to himself? “What do you think about? When you touch yourself?” His voice is deep and smooth, right in your ear, causing your knees to buckle.

You gulp. “Nothing in particular.” He smirks. He doesn’t believe you. He reaches out to brush some hair out of your face but you move away, clutching your keys in your hands. He tries again, reaching for your arm this time, but you move away again.

You feel weird. He’s making an advance, one you aren’t opposed to, but you can’t seem to let your guard down and let him approach you. You sweat, shakily putting your key into the lock. You wanted to turn around, to throw your arms around him and let him take control of you, but you felt the familiar feeling of dread eating at your insides, sliding up your throat like bile. This almost felt too good to be true. You had spent weeks wishing for this exact moment, but now that it’s unraveling in front of you it’s hard to believe it’s happening and isn’t some sick, twisted joke. Had you stretched your self-worth too thin? Were you foolish for thinking Megumi would actually want you?

Megumi says your name so softly you almost didn’t hear it, concern etched on his face and laced in his voice. You ignore him, quickly unlocking your door and sliding inside your apartment, shutting the door in his face.

Megumi stands there, both confused and concerned. Had he come on too strong? Did he waste his one and only chance by scaring you? He reaches out to knock on your door before hesitating. He wanted a second chance, an opportunity to tell you that he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scared, but he couldn’t bring himself to press his knuckles onto the wood. He drops his hand and walks away, back to his apartment, feeling like he just ruined everything he could’ve had with you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part three is here

★taglist: @whereflowerswenttodie, @rosieandthethorns (reply to this post if you want to be included in the taglist!)

[mpileons]

behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader

chapter 1 <

Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.

Word Count: 2.8K

—

A/N: i got a bit too carried w/ the angst.. oops. and i didnt proof read this so i apologize for any inevitable mistakes :)

Chapter Two …

Present Day – 

As 12AM hits, I find myself still waiting for Ale to come home from training. I decide to call my bestfriend to prevent my thoughts from further spiralling. “Hey chica, wait what's up?” my best friend's voice blares through my headphones as a frown etches onto her face, sensing that something is off with me. “Did she do something?” I start to shake my head because I know if I speak my voice will betray me and all my anxieties will be laid bare for her to see. It’s not that I don't want her to see, more that I don't want to acknowledge any of this. I’d like to believe that Alexia and I are still in that honeymoon, that she’ll come home early and shower me with kisses while we make dinner,that we will go back to watching films while our limbs intertwined till we didn't know whose body is whose. I know deep down that we have derailed so far away, we are slowly plummeting into an abyss of resentment and I don't know how to save us. “Y/N please talk to me” Kira’s voice brings me back to earth, I see the anxiety increasing tenfold on her face as she watches me intently. “I don't know," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper as I fiddle with the strings of my hoodie. 

"It's just... Ale was out late last night, and she's still not home. And she's been so distant lately. It’s like I am living with a ghost,  I can't shake this feeling that something's wrong." I rush out as quickly as humanly possible, as if I say it fast enough my brain won’t think about it and therefore it won’t become real.

“That’s strange, have you brought it up with her?” Kira's voice held a gentle probing, her concern evident. But then again, I couldn't fault her for that. Our nightly chats had become a lifeline, teetering on the edge of panic. It's strange, really. Ale used to be the one to ease these moments, but now, it's her actions that stir them up.

Present Day | Alexia’s Point of View —

As I step into the dimly lit apartment, the sharp remnants of the night at the club are still echoing in my mind. However, the laughter and camaraderie of my teammates felt distant now, replaced by a hollow emptiness.

I moved through our shared apartment with a sense of detachment, a space that was once so familiar now feels like a ghost town. The weight of exhaustion drags at my limbs as I head towards our room. But as I pass by the closed door, I can hear a snippet of a conversation that catches my attention, drawing me to a sudden halt.

"... it's strange how Ale used to calm me down from these attacks and now it is her that is causing them," Y/N's voice, tinged with worry and frustration, drifted through the door, sending a pang of unexpected guilt coursing through my chest.

For a moment, I stood rooted to the spot, Y/N’s words hanging heavy in the air like an accusation. The weight of her evident disappointment bores down on me like a crushing weight, quickly suffocating and stealing every word out of my mouth. How had I become the source of Y/N's pain, when did this happen?

Without another word, I retreated to the living room where the walls feel like they are closing in around me as the echoes of Y/N's words reverberated in my mind.  Hours passed in agonising silence, the tension in the apartment thickening with each passing moment. And then, as if on cue, the dam burst.

Present Day | Y/N’s Point of View —

I took tentative steps to the living room to check if Ale had come home, the faint scent of alcohol hanging in the air further proving that she’s back.  

As I rounded the corner, my gaze fell upon Alexia slumped on the couch with her head bowed and a half-empty bottle of whiskey clenched tightly in her hand. Her usually vibrant eyes were now dull and unfocused, the lines of exhaustion etched into her features.

A sudden surge of anger and frustration takes over my body. I naively thought that maybe today would be different, that today Ale would come to me instead of seeking comfort from a bottle.

But as I stood in front of Ale and truly take in the sight in front of me, a different surge of emotions come. I am quickly overwhelmed with a wave of guilt as I watch the woman I love more than anything crumble beneath the weight of her own self-destructive tendencies. No matter what I try to do or say, nothing can seem to get through the indestructible walls she had built around herself, the walls she once used to let down around me. 

All of a sudden, I couldn't muster up any anger towards the woman who firmly held my heart in her grasp. I could shove aside my own emotions, even if it meant indulging in self-destructive tendencies, just to care for her. 

"Ale," My voice was soft, barely more than a whisper as if my words would fracture her even further. I slowly approached the couch, my heart aching with a pain I couldn't name. "What happened tonight?" I asked while tentatively taking the bottle out of her grasp.

Alexia's head snapped up at the sound of my voice, her eyes glazed and distant as she struggled to focus on me, an effect from her excessive drinking that has become more familiar to me than I’d like. "Nothing," she muttered, her voice slurred with the aftereffects of alcohol. "Just... just another night out with the girls."

My eyes furrow with concern, I try to find any piece of the woman I loved, the woman who would buy me new flowers immediately after the previous flowers died, the woman who would wake up earlier before practice just to spend time with me, the woman who would bring me food to the library while I was drowning in assignments. But all I could see was the shell of that woman. All I could was emptiness and it was killing me. She was killing herself while clutching my heart within her hands, bringing me down with her. 

My voice trembled with disappointment as I settled beside Alexia on the couch, the tension between us crackling like electricity. The atmosphere in the room felt heavy, suffused with the weight of unspoken grievances and broken promises. "You promised, Ale," I began, my tone beginning to edge with unbearable frustration as I decide to confront her broken vows. "You swore you'd try to get better, that you wouldn't let this control you anymore. That you would try for me, for us."

Alexia's eyes flashed with a mix of shame and defiance, her fingers stealing the bottle from my hands and tightening around the bottle in her hand as she clearly tried to brace herself for the impending conflict. The lines etched on her face increased tenfold. "I know," she admitted, her voice strained with the evident weight of her own struggles. "But it's not as simple as just trying, Y/N. You don't understand how hard it is. You just don’t."

My patience waned quickly as I met Alexia's gaze, my own resolve beginning to falter under the weight of our unresolved issues. "I'm trying to understand, Alexia," I defiantly retorted, my voice rising slightly with frustration. "But how can I when you won't let me in? You keep shutting me out, pushing me away every time I try to help."

A spark of anger ignited within Alexia's eyes as she rose to meet my challenge, her own frustrations bubbling to the surface. "Maybe if you actually understood what I'm going through, you'd realise that I'm not doing this to hurt you," she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I'm doing this because I can't bear to see you disappointed in me again."

The raw emotion in Alexia's words further broke my heart, the sting of guilt mixing with her own simmering anger. "I know, but you promised, Alexia," I murmured, my tone quiet  but sharp with anger, "It just seems like you don't care about keeping your word anymore. You're drowning yourself in alcohol, and you're dragging us down with you."

I can see Alexia's gaze harden, her own frustration boiling over as she shot back once again, Never one to back down. “Don't act like you're perfect, Y/N. You're always on my case, like you have it all figured out. But guess what? You don't. You never have."

I clench my jaw as I fight to keep my temper in check, I know that Alexia isnt in the right state for this discussion, but her words hold some flicker of truth which is why the words spill out despite my best efforts. "I may not understand everything you're going through, but at least I'm trying. What about you, Ale? Are you even trying anymore, or have you just given up once again?"

The accusation struck a nerve, and Alexia's temper flared, her voice rising to match my intensity. "Of course, I'm trying!" she exclaimed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "But it's not enough for you, is it? Nothing I do is ever enough!"

My eyes flash with hurt and indignation while my voice trembles with emotion. "That's not true, Ale," I protest, my heart aching at the sight of the woman I adore unravelling right before my eyes. "I just want you to be happy, but I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself. I can't do it anymore when it is destroying me further knowing I can’t help you despite my best attempts to."

Tears welled in Alexia's eyes as she struggled to contain her rising emotions, the weight of their argument bearing down on her like a crushing weight. "I don't know how to be happy anymore, Y/N," she admitted, her voice breaking with despair. "I feel like I'm drowning, and I can't find a way out."

The distance between us grew with each passing minute, each second driving a deeper wedge between our fractured hearts. And during the chaos of our bitter exchange, I just had a sinking feeling that my love might not be enough to save us from the impending darkness that I know will consume us completely, sooner or later.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, my voice immediately softened, a tremor of uncertainty lacing my words as I try to grind the words I thought I’d never say out loud, not to Alexia, not even in a million years or in a hundred different universes did I think I’d say this to her.. "Maybe... maybe we need some time apart," I suggest, the weight of the admission heavy on my tongue.

Alexia's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief at the suggestion. "A break?" she echoed, the word heavy with resignation and a hint of desperation.

I nod, my own heart aching at the realisation that our relationship might be hanging by a thread. "Just... for a little while," I murmur, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "To figure things out."

6 Months Ago | Alexia’s Point of View —

As the sun set over the horizon, casting hues of pink and gold across the sky, I led Y/N to a secluded spot in the park since I decided to surprise her with a special outing to a drive-in cinema. I see her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of twinkling fairy lights strung between the trees and a soft glow emanating from a cluster of candles.

With a nervous but determined smile, I take Y/N's hand and lead her to a cozy spot in front of the car. We start to settle onto a blanket spread out in the back of the car, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant sound of birds chirping.

As we cuddle together under the starlit sky, the screen flickers to life with the opening scenes of "La La Land," Y/N's favorite film, I had put that somewhere in the depths of my mind when she told me, knowing it will somehow be important later on.

During an especially poignant moment in the film, I reach into a nearby picnic basket and pull out a carefully crafted scrapbook that took me longer than I’d like to admit. After all I am athlete not an artsy person. But for her, it’s all worth it.

I watch as she curiously flips through the pages, her eyes widening in surprise and delight as she sees photos of our many movie nights together, interspersed with handwritten notes and film strips capturing precious moments we’ve shared over the last few months.

My hands start to lightly tremble while I intertwine Y/N's hand with mine, as I feel her hand fitting perfectly into mine, a warmth spreads through me, comforting the trembles that threaten to give away my nerves. "Y/N," I start, my voice barely above a whisper but laced with the depth of my feelings, "I never imagined that one person could fuel my heart with such love and devotion, I can’t even imagine my life without by my side and I ..."

Y/N's eyes meet mine, shimmering with unshed tears of happiness. Without a word, her gentle nod speaks volumes, affirming the depth of her love and commitment. "Yes, Ale," she murmurs, her voice a soft caress against the night air, "I choose you, now and forever."

Present day | Y/N’s Point of View —

Before I can even take a step forward, a familiar blonde head of hair envelops me, momentarily throwing off my balance. "Geez, Leah, trying to knock me over?" I chuckle, returning the embrace of my lifelong friend. Football was never my thing before Ale, but Leah and I go way back to our days in the primary school astronomy club, and our bond has only grown stronger since then. Proving our friendship to be stronger than any time zone or country.

"How do you manage to shrink every time I see you? Is there something in the water in Barca?" Leah teases as she takes my luggage from my grasp and leads the way to her car. I just shake my head at her usual antics, gazing out at the Heathrow Airport parking lot. London. I haven’t been back home in years, never felt the need to with Ale around, but now that I've lost her, it feels like I've lost my home along the way as well. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling nauseous. In just a few days, I've lost everything that mattered.

Hours later, after battling the infamous London traffic, we finally arrive at my flat. It's a sad time capsule of my past life. Remnants of old friendships and memories linger in every corner, a stark reminder that while I've changed, the world around me has kept on spinning. That time waits for no one, and as I sink deeper into my thoughts, Leah's concerned voice breaks through the silence. "Are we going to talk about it, or are we gonna keep pretending like nothing's happened?" she asks, her honesty cutting through the tension. I join her on the couch, resting my head on her shoulder with a heavy sigh. "I don’t know," I admit, uncertainty weighing heavily on my mind.

“Cmon, as your favourite bestfriend I think i deserve more honesty than that.” She tries to lightly joke, but I know her words hold some level of honestly. And the words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I find myself at a loss for words. She's always been there for me, through the good times and the bad, but this... this feels different. It's not just a bump in the road; it's a complete upheaval of everything I thought I knew. I know nothing anymore.

"I know," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... it's all so overwhelming, you know? I thought I had everything figured out, but now... now I don't know what to do."

Leah quickly wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer in a comforting embrace. "It's okay not to have all the answers," she reassures me, her voice soft but firm. "Just take it one step at a time. We'll figure it out together. You still have me no matter what. You know that.”

I nod, grateful for her words of wisdom. But even as I try to take comfort in her presence, a nagging feeling of unease lingers at the back of my mind. How do you move forward when everything you once knew has been shattered right in front of you? Where do you even begin?

[crsssie]

oops... i got married || TO SOME STRANGER!??!?!?

word count: 1.4k || Fic 5 of oops... i got married

summary: I'm gonna be fr with you. Your new malewife is a little sus

You get married as a joke.

Yes, there are limits to how much you can drink. Yes, there are limits to how insane you can get while drunk— but apparently getting married is not within that limit. You get married to some random guy— SERIOUSLY. SOME RANDOM DUDE. You wake up to a legally signed marriage document and them in your kitchen, and you blink at the confirmation email on your phone and then at your new lover at the door.

"You're going to be late for class."

"What the fuck?!" 

You pause at the sight of your new husband, some random man, white hair and red eyes, and you pause. Did you get transmigrated? Are you in an isekai fic? Is this your main character moment? Seriously, how the hell did you manage to bag some random ass man!???!!? WHAT. WHY IS HE HOT.

"Wait." You pause. "How do you know I have class?"

"The backpack." He points. "Now, hurry on up now."

That does NOT explain how the hell you met your husband. Yet, you don't have time, grabbing breakfast from his hand as he waves goodbye to you at the door. Great day to pay expensive ass rent but live right next to campus. You wonder if your husband lives someone. You feel kind of bad that he had to take you home after you got plastered yesterday. But. That does not excuse the fact that he looked suspicious as fuck while staring at you sleep. Also, how the hell did he agree to marrying you? WHY.

You huff as you walk back to class, pausing and blinking when a piece of the ceiling breaks off and slams into where you were sitting, somehow missing all of your belongings by a hair. You blink, stupefied, grabbing your stuff from under the ceiling as you evacuate the lecture with the rest of the students. Someone hates you... or something. You don't know. You're surprised you didn't just die while drunk. Sometimes pianos fall out of the air and try to bomb you. Also, you have a husband to go home to now! He'd be sad if you suddenly died... right?

Wait. What even is his name?

"Casper." Your husband rolls his eyes as you pout. "You forgot your own husband's name?"

"Uh huh." You blink. "Are you just going to be my househusband now?"

"I don't see why not. Anything interesting happen today?"

"Oh!" You grin. "A piece of the ceiling slammed into my seat, but luckily for me I was in the bathroom. My stomach problems saved me for once."

Your husband gives you a smile half between concern and amusement. (he would have to try harder next time— what. that was not him. who said that.) 

"I'm glad you're safe."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." He pauses. "Do you get acid reflux in the morning?"

"If I eat and sleep immediately after." You mumble. "Why?"

"Hotpot." He hums. "Spicy hotpot. Eat up."

Your eyes light up, brightening as he hands you a bowl of rice, watching as you dig in, humming happily as you watch him put his own bowl down.

"Is it good?"

"Mhm!" You beam. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

"I live alone." He hums. "Someone has to do the housework around my place."

"How about currently?"

"I live a little... far away." He pauses. "It would be hard for me to see you every day if I don't live at your place. Besides, my job is in the area."

"Will you move here? Or..."

"No. My management provides housing for free." He smiles. "Oh, the food's going to get cold."

You pause. "Can I apply?"

"No. We don't take applications."

"WHAT." You groan. "Ugh. I knew it was too good to be true. You probably sold your soul for it or something."

Casper doesn't speak up, placing a slice of lotus root in your bowl. "Eat up."

You raise a brow but don't pry further. It's not your problem if your husband sold his soul. At least he's hot.

Maybe he's secretly trying to eat your soul... demons... that checks out honestly. You did have a bad stroke of luck when it came to unfortunate situations, and you had an even more comedic one when it came to avoiding them. Always nearby, never you. You wonder if that would curse your husband. Though, from the looks of it, your husband would probably steal someone's soul before that curse could even lay a hand on him.

"What are you looking at?"

"You're very hot." You grin.

You laugh when you notice your husband turn red.

The vast majority of your days pass relatively calmly, and you grow into a comfortable pattern with your husband... that is until your husband shows up with a black card and tells you that he can cover rent for the rest of your life— that raises some questions. What does your husband even do for work? What is he doing with his life? How the hell does he have a better credit score than you? Where is his money even coming from?!

You force him into the corner of your house one afternoon with a broom in hand.

"Sunshine, I really think—"

"Spit it out." You stare him down. "What do you do for work. I refuse to believe I'm in a kdrama, so spit out something you can back up."

Casper presses his back against the wall, eyes darting to the wall as you shake the broom at him, and he grimaces.

"I'll get fired if I tell you—"

"NO ONE HAS A CAMERA IN MY HOUSE SO SPIT IT OUT"

"I'm a grim reaper."

You pause, blinking at your husband, words processing in your brain.

"I'm a grim—"

"They hire people for that?!" You blurt, pausing. "Wait. No. You're spouting nonsense at me."

"I am not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are!"

"Not!" Casper turns around to face you, shaking as your grip tightens around the broom. "Please... go through my closet?"

"So your job is literally... murder?" You pause. "My stay at home househusband is secretly some insane man who goes around killing people?!"

"It's not—"

"Then what is it?!" You raise a brow at him, unconvinced.

"We get a list." He sighs. "And we get everyone's name."

"Wait." You pause. "Why the hell did you agree to marry me then!?"

"That's not—"

You shake the broom at him.

"You were supposed to die years ago but kept avoiding death so I've just decided to marry you to see WHY you're not DYING." Casper braces himself for the broom's impact, but you're too stupefied to give him a proper answer.

"I'm supposed to be dead?"

"Well..." He grimaces. "You can't really... die." 

"I'm immortal?"

"Your... soul." He pauses, turning his head to the side. "Your soul is endless, and you constantly give life to those around you... including me."

You pause. "So you married me because I'm a natural healer? Wait. No. You married me to kill me?! This isn't some josei manga, you know?!"

"Yes, but." Casper sighs, shoulders relaxing as you drop the broom. "You are so lovely."

"You're just saying that."

"I am not." He mumbles. "I would have just taken your soul if you were not."

"Oh, so this is pretty privilege?"

"It's not—"

"Wow, Caspie. I thought you actually loved me." You pretend to sigh. 

"I do—"

"You didn't kill me because you think I'm lovely? If that doesn't—"

Casper grabs your wrists, holding them in place as he blinks at you, grumbling. "Would you shut up and listen to me for just a second? Goodness, sunshine, I love you. I'd go mad if I did not have you as my beloved."

You tilt your head at him, and he sighs.

"I love you. I'm not going to try killing you anymore."

You sigh, shaking your wrists loose as you press your lips to his, humming. Casper doesn't argue with it, humming as his lips slot against yours, hands moving down to your waist. 

"So we aren't getting a divorce?" You mumble.

"No." He grumbles. "What do you want for dinner?"

A smirk spreads on your face as he sighs.

Still. He loves you.

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 7

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 5202

Written: 15th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I got nothing to add here other than this one came out of me like an emotional waterfall and as an emotionally repressed person just like MC is... WOOF... Enjoy??? I think I got one more chapter for this specific thing, but I'll see when I write the last bit. (Sylus-centric to end where it started!)

Now Playing: Parachute, By Kyndal Inskeep

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The first time going out with Tara, you had waited for the moment she looked at you. You waited to see something in her eyes that indicated she was disgusted, or horrified, or bothered by you. Waited for when you extended a hand, to recoil.

It is the kind of feeling that is insulting to her, because Tara has never offered you anything other than warmth and affection. She has been by your side, ever since you joined the Association. Chatting with you on breaks, checking in on you after you lost your family. Bringing you snacks, sending you texts.

So it should not have surprised you, that when you see her at the station, she sprints over, and wraps her arms around you. For a moment, you can feel her tremble, before she pulls away, your hands in hers. Feeling the warmth of Tara's skin through the prosthetic sensors. The twitching to your fingers, the hesitation, before you carefully tighten your fingers around hers.

Her hand doesn't leave yours as she tugs you this way and that, as you walk around shopping. The intention is abandoned, the hunt for gifts becomes second to letting her energy carry you.

It is not unlike the way Rafayel grabbed your hand to lead you forwards. The heat and comfort of someone's presence making the noise drop away a little. The world calm, your anxieties settle. Like you're wrapped in a blanket.

You end up with bags of things you're helping Tara carry, clothes and accessories she'd gotten excited over. Things she'd wanted your help picking out. The normalcy of it all so at odds with every part of your life. Bringing you back to days in college when you weren't chasing the sensation of being alive with blood on your fists, and bruises on your skin.

As rare as those were.

"So." Tara starts, through a mouthful of a crepe, so full of cream, she gets some on her nose. "How has it been with them?"

Your feet almost stop, thankfully her hand pulls you forwards, still tightly held in yours. It must be the tilt of your head that makes her laugh, as she rubs at her nose with her sleeve.

"Xavier said he was staying with you to help. Along with that artist you work with, your doctor, and Skye?"

You're glad Xavier knows how to lie, and that for once he didn't use it with you to keep secrets. You're not sure if you would have put money on him not dropping Sylus' name in casual conversation, simply because he was sleeping at his desk. Ignoring piles of paperwork.

"Yeah, they've been really helping." It's an understatement. They've pulled you back, and given you room to walk forwards. Steadying hands offered when you stumble, and warmth in your chest where it had chilled.

"I always thought you'd date Skye."

The statement is so startling you drop one of the bags, panicking to retrieve what has spilled over. Releasing your grip on Tara to put her stuff back.

"Oops." You can hear the music in her voice as she teases you, crouching to help, before you can stand again, bags held in your hand. She retrieves the metal one back into her own, and offers you some of the crepe.

You're sure it's sweet, but the heat of your cheeks and your embarrassment make it hard to tell what toppings she even put on it.

"Nero thinks you'll date Xavier." This time you choke, turning your face away to not spray her with cream, so she finishes off with, "and Simone is voting for Zayne. Shame we haven't met Rafayel yet, no one has his betting pool."

"You have a betting pool?" You exhale, swallowing down the coughing and rubbing at your throat with your full hand.

"Not officially." She this time wraps her arm around yours, leaning against you, and nibbling at her treat again, "We just find your friends funny."

Friends.

You look away and force one foot in front of the other, "Better not put down too much money, I don't think you'll get good returns."

"You're not interested?"

"That's- that's not what I said."

You aren't sure anyone could meet them, could know them, and not be interested.

"So you are?"

"Tara…" It comes out much the same way Zayne speaks to you, like he's exasperated and isn't sure what to do with you.

"Come on, we're friends!"

"We are."

"So talk to me."

"I've never thought about it."

"Ever?" She doesn't look like she believes you, eyes wide and shocked, like the idea of you moving through life alongside them without thinking about them like that is baffling to her.

It's not a lie… not entirely. "I've…" you sigh, looking down at the hand in yours before you're offered a bite again, as you chew, you feel the slight heat of it and the strawberry on your tongue, "I've never felt like I had time to think about it. Not in college, not now."

Always chasing some reason. Some meaning to be alive.

Some way to leave a mark that matters.

Chasing the pain in your limbs to remind you you're there, standing there.

"There's always something more important to think about, I've never had the time to sit down and think about anything like that." If you had thought about it, it was quick, and affirmation that you shouldn't. Shouldn't get attached to someone. Let them get attached to you. Waiting on that timeline that could be too short to grasp with your fingertips.

No one should have to deal with the grief of being left behind by you.

"What better time to think about it!" You're pulled to a bench, under an artificial tree covered in sparkling golden lanterns, Tara sits and then stares at you. Expectant, glittering eyes, bright smile. She catches the light and glows, and it's a reminder that she is far more an angel than you deserve to care for.

So you sit, to bask in the warmth of her, and place the bags down to free your hand, to offer her one of the bottles of ice tea you bought.

She swaps you for the crepe, but does not release your hand, like if she does you'll run away.

It's not an unfair assessment. You do feel the crawling up your back like you want to bolt. A cat wary for loud noises.

She's begun to learn your habits well. Like everyone else who has decided you are worthy of keeping around.

It is disconcerting to be seen, and known.

You think about the first time Caleb found you after you ran away from home, crawling under the husk of an old tree, to find you curled up with snacks and a threadbare blanket. Tears streaming down your eyes, not wanting to go back. You didn't want to go back to the hospital anymore.

He always found you. No matter where you ran.

You weren't sure anyone was ever going to find you again.

"Come on," She nudges you, with a pretty smile and bright eyes, "Why wouldn't you think about it?"

"Tara, I don't even know how long I have." You look away when you say it, sinking your teeth into cream, and stare down at the floor. Ignore the twitch in her hand, ignore the eyes that try to flit to yours.

Ignore the loss you'd feel if you had to let go of her hand.

She turns her gaze back to the bottle in her hand, takes a moment to twist the cap with her teeth, spitting it into one of the bags. "Neither do I." She finally says, and you look at her. The irritation must come through, because she blinks.

"It's different."

"Is it?"

The question in her gaze is earnest, and you aren't sure how to answer, it is…. Isn't it?

"You almost died. On a mission. In a building as it crashed down around you. You would have died, if hunters didn't come. If you hadn't sent me the warning." She tugs your hand so you have to hold her gaze, even if it hurts to see the tears shining there, "It wasn't your heart, it was wanderers. We almost lost you, because of an everyday job you do."

You think about the metal through your shoulder. The pain as you tried to struggle against it. Desperate to keep fighting, as the Myst swung its battleaxe down at you. As you saw moments flash before you, and the dark pulling you down into the abyss.

You think about the ticking clock you can't see for your heart.

Is it different?

"Everyday, we fight wanderers. Everyday a mission could be our last one. What better time to think, than when you're not staring down a monster?"

When you don't speak, Tara tilts her head, watches as you stare at the floor, "I'd miss you."

This time, it is a jolt, like a knife, right into your chest, looking at her as she says it.

"I'd miss you, if you disappeared, if you died. I'd miss you, every day. I'd probably have to stop myself from messaging you. Stop myself from seeking you out at work. I've already had to stop turning to your desk to speak to you, because you're not there."

A ghost, lurking in the memories of others. Isn't that what you feared to become?

"Then you-"

She shakes her head, "Do you wish you'd never know Caleb?"

"No!" It is venomous, a snap, a snake's bite. It rips out of your chest quicker than you can control, and it trembles at the edges.

You would go a million more days losing Caleb, if it meant you could have him in your life another day. That if you could repeat the last time you saw him, you would drag it out, even knowing how it ended. That you'd seek his spirit out, the one who brought you home when you curled in the rain and cried for something no one could ever give you.

You miss him everyday, but not knowing him… you don't think you'd be here. Not sat on this bench, not talking to someone who cares for you, who would miss you.

You think you would have finally given up. Broken beyond repair and drowning in the waves of feelings you couldn't grasp with your hands.

You would never have gotten a second chance, or a third, or a fourth. You would have sunk beneath and faded away.

"No. I don't."

"So why would anyone else see you differently? You're worth knowing, and loving, for as long as we get the chance to."

It is the grief of losing that accompanies the joy of loving. You think about memories spent with Gran and Caleb, of times you found value in waking up another day. That when you are stuck and struggling, you think about his hand reaching out for yours. Reminding you of what it means to live.

You think of Tara's hand, grasping at yours without end. Refusing to release you, for as long as she can. The tether and the reminder, that no matter what she will take your hand.

You think of Xavier's fingers dancing over the metal, testing the grooves and marvelling and the sensations that erupted.

You think of Rafayel's warmth in your palm, his fish darting through your fingers as you stretch and flex them.

You think of Sylus' grip grounding you, reminding you how to stand on the ground and find your feet.

You think of Zayne's ministrations, keeping your straps from digging harshly into skin, to keep you safe from the outside and the inside.

You think of Nero's notes in your bedside table. Of Simone's messages on your phone.

You think of Jenna's concern as she told you to rest, once taken as a dismissal, now repainted as concern. That the time it took did not matter to her, just that you did come back ready.

It is a mosaic or a jigsaw, littered across a messy floor. Pieces lost, and hard to find. You can clean and claw for them, but you will continue to find more. Things that were small, that kept you standing, things that seemed pointless but have buoyed you against your knowledge.

Large rocks in a river, or pebbles along the shore.

Her head rests on your shoulder, unconcerned with the metal through your clothing, even though you're sure it's not comfortable. Instead she just stays there, looking down at the hand she has joined with hers, "If they're anything like you, or me, it doesn't matter how long it is. So you should tell them."

Tell them… "I don't know what to tell them."

"Well that's easy, you're head over heels."

"Tara!"

"It's true!" "Where did you even get that from?"

She laughs, "You don't look at yourself in the mirror, everyone else sees it. The way you light up." You're not sure that's true… Xavier 'lights up', you… do you? She watches the furrow in your brow and smiles, "I suppose you wouldn't notice. You're too busy running forwards to stop and think, huh?"

"I stop." You huff, "Sometimes."

"Alright then, how do you think you feel?"

You're not sure you're ready to investigate that. To query it. The idea of looking deeper and seeing what Tara sees.

Then what?

You tell them, and watch things change?

Friends is good, friends is fine. If you don't mess it up, they won't leave you behind and keep walking. If you say something stupid, what if they leave. How would you even tell them?

"Are you happy with them?" She knows you well enough to dig deeper, with questions that pierce through the noise.

It's an easy answer to find, "Yes." There is no world where you are not happy with them. You think even if it ended in tragedy, you would seek them out, and care for them. Just like Caleb. Just like you would with those you have decided to love.

"It's not just… happiness. It's-" A sigh escapes you, the heat in your cheeks as you turn your face away so that Tara cannot study you as easily as she normally does. Seeking out changes in your expression to understand you. You're not sure how she has come to understand you so easily in a year of companionship. "It's like being whole. Pieces that come together to remind you of who you are. When they're there, I feel more like myself. I feel safe, and solid, and stable. Like the ground isn't going to drop."

It rips up your throat, the feeling of an emotion you struggle to process, the need to let it out in a sob, a feeling of worrying at the edge of the cliff. That you are staring down the drop, and you're not sure you don't want to fall.

Gentle fingers wipe at the corners of your eyes, and squeeze at your hand, and you lean into it, "It feels good. I'm scared of it feeling good."

"Hey."

"What if I lose it Tara? If I tell them and they turn away, or they leave?"

It's a home waiting to crumble into the sea, or the flames devouring the edges or the foundations. You've watched one go, can you set fire to the one you're still rebuilding?

She pulls you to her chest and strokes your cheek with her hand, releasing yours so that she can ground you in her arms. Other hand soothing circles into your back. "I can't tell you what they'll say, I wish I could, but I think you should talk to them. I may not have met your artist friend, but I know how the other's look at you. Even if you haven't opened your eyes to see it, alright?"

"It's really bad timing." You sniffle, trying not to cry harder and wet her shirt, or get snot on her.

Her laugh is soft against your cheek, "We'll always have bad timing. Can you really say if you die tomorrow, you'll be satisfied?"

You think about the hesitation to reach out and touch back, the wavering in your movements, and the need to close gaps. The feelings of lying awake next to Rafayel or Xavier on the bed, watching eyelashes flutter over cheeks. Of Sylus' fleeting touches and glances, that he never pushes like you'll run from him if he does. Of Zayne's clenched fist when he thinks you don't notice, as though he's holding himself back every moment.

You think about what you wish you could do for and with them. A home built with the people you love.

Love.

You're not sure you're ready, but you're not sure you'll ever be ready. To face the abyss and leap. Like it will catch you.

Somehow you think it will.

"Just think about it, at least a little. You deserve the chance to have a life that doesn't revolve around being a hunter."

You want to laugh but it will come out wet. Time spent not chasing a value in what you can provide, it feels a long way away with the chains around your ankle, and the beast that slumbers only to awaken in your lowest moments.

Except… when it purrs. With those who hold you and care for you.

"Thank you." You squeeze Tara's hand against your cheek, straightening a little to look at her. You see the tears glowing in her own eyes.

You wonder how many people you have hurt while you were standing looking over the cliff.

You want to make sure you never stand there again, and remember to turn around when they call for you.

"Always, remember. Always."

Always.

—----------

You think about your talk with Tara, wavering on the edge of opening your mouth, until you panic and shut down. You have been stuck inside of your own head, unsure how to start a conversation. You spent weeks debating and wondering and thinking.

In between daily progress, returning to your usual training, finally able to feel your body function the way you'd like it to.

In every empty moment, you think about them.

About the question on the tip of your tongue, that is barely even a question, 'I love you'. Unsure and wavering and scared to be voiced.

When you finish training with Sylus, you escape, lest your spout out something stupid and have to watch pity enter his eyes.

You finish runs with Zayne and avoid his checking hands when he queries if you are sick, because you cannot hold his gaze even more than normal.

You avoid sitting with Rafayel for long periods of time, because the soothe of his work makes you want to tell him things you're worried to say.

You cannot face Xavier when he joins you for a nap, because you feel your hand reaching out to touch his cheek.

It is like a dam has broken, and the feelings you have spent too long ignoring, lest you have to face them, have come to the forefront. Reminding you every moment, that you are sitting on a need and a feeling that wishes for nothing more than to be aired.

It is nothing you want to share, you think. You are happy where you are, they are here.

They won't always be here. This moment, it pulls away, and you are more capable every day. You wait for the moment that they tell you, that they will go their separate ways.

That you will stop entering the apartment to see them. That your home will become cold again, and you will have to deal with the acknowledgement that you are a coward.

It is a new type of countdown, but no more terrifying. You know it does not mean they will disappear, you will see them, you will be able to meet them… they have never disappeared on you for long.

You think you have grown far too used to their presence as a constant, that the idea of the loneliness of the cool apartment is no longer a familiar balm.

You're sure you used to be fine alone. Yet now, in this moment, you wish to never be alone again.

So as you avoid, and run from them, out of control of your own body in a way you've never been before, you move through the days.

Until you finally get approval to return to combat training.

You meet Jenna, Tara, Simone and Nero at the door of the Association.

It is worth everything, you think, that coming to the Association, seeing the four of them, feels like settling back into place. Not unlike returning to that apartment with the four people you love most around your table.

"Took you long enough." Simone laughs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into the building. You stumble a little, before catching yourself. The laugh that barks out is greeted by a smile from Nero and Tara. "Thought we'd all get old waiting for you to get your ass back."

"Is that anyway to treat your favourite resonator?"

"You're the only one we've got, so you'll do I suppose."

You poke her with a metal finger into the side, happy when she laughs again at you.

"I'll give you the entertainment factor though, Xavier was proper grumpy without you."

Nero nods, serious, "She's right, he kept heading to your desk to sit at, even though you weren't there."

"Like a sad little bunny!"

"You really enjoy teasing Xavier a lot, huh?"

She shrugs, "Before you came around the man didn't react to a single thing, now he's blushing, laughing, getting grumpy with kids who want to be your partner? I'm having the time of my life."

"You lot behave yourself, I'm aware you're excited, but we aren't here to chat." Jenna cuts in, extending her hand to you, her face is even, but as you shake her hand, she smiles, small and quick, "Welcome back. We'll be seeing if you can keep up with combat drills for a while, then when I believe you're ready, you'll be back on missions."

The feeling you have is probably akin to the feeling a bird has when it takes flight. It's the same feeling you had when you got accepted as a hunter. The first day you were assigned to UNICORNS. It is excitement, and fear, and thrill.

You're back where you belong, where you can do what you should be doing.

You are ready to keep moving forwards.

Simone returns to her work, but Nero and Tara assist with drills. You are handed a gun, to practice with your aim.

It is not a weapon you prefer to use, but it is a basic skill that hunters require. The more weapons in an arsenal, the better chance you have in the field.

You can't really lift your claymore easily anymore. When you try to lift it over your shoulder, it pulls and tears. You waver and you shake, and drop it back down. Irritable and frustrated.

Your sword is familiar, you have kept training with Xavier, so that it does not hinder with its movements. It is fast and easy to keep your movements with.

Your efforts with each of them has kept you from falling too far behind. Your hand has a proper grip, and you find comfort in the process.

You run through each drill Jenna hands you. When you fail, you stand back up and try again, you focus on the movement, on the action and you keep trying. You keep the rule your doctor has drilled into you. Fail five times, stop, try again later.

When you face wanderers for test, you learn you are missing your mark with the gun, unbalanced with it, but your sword strikes true. Easy to judge the weight and the feel of it in your grasp.

You pause, and you fight, and you train.

You come back day after day, you face down the hoard of emulated beasts, and you learn how to move the way you did.

You fight, and you fight.

You repeat, come home, exhausted and full of flames, and then repeat the process.

It is a day that you are heading back to complete another test that Jenna has devised, bruise on your cheek, just over a scar near your eye, that you are held back by a hand on your wrist. Rafayel with his hands behind his back, head tilted and a grin on his face, "I have a surprise, guess the hand."

Your laugh is unbidden, and for a moment you think again how beautiful he is, before you stuff it down. Reminding yourself, not to say something stupid, "Is this a trap, if I pick wrong will I be sleeping with the fishes?"

He huffs, "You're only allowed to sleep with this fishie!"

"Raffy!"

He tilts his head to the other side, he leans in closer to you, eyes sparkling, "Pick."

"Left."

"Are you sure?"

"I haven't got x-ray vision, so yeah, no more sure than I'd be of right."

He moves his hands in front of him, and on both of his palms rests a long, beautiful, black curved dagger. It is intricately carved, you turn it over to see feathers falling through snowflakes, a fish dancing on the edge of a star. Your fingers tremble as he places it in your hand, tightening along the handle.

"You needed a new signature, and you always liked mine."

It is the feeling up your throat, the need to cry, to sob. Every time they see you, you want to run and to bask. To lie against their beating hearts and beg them to never stop.

It rests in your hand, your grip tightens around it and it feels like it is part of you. Thrumming under your senses. Beating like a living heart in your hand. A vivid reminder of what you have to keep fighting for and with. "I love it." You manage, through the tight throat and the wet mess of tears as they rush from your eyes.

Fingers chase away your tears again, reminding you that it is not wrong of you to feel and to struggle, as long as you face forwards.

"Thank you Rafayel."

He shrugs, huffing but there's no venom in it, his lips quirking at the edges, "Wasn't just me, you've got to stay safe, and alive. Always come home."

Home.

As long as your heart beats, you think that he, Xavier, Zayne and Sylus are your home. The place where your pieces feel like they fit again.

You want them to know, you want to tell them that they are where you belong. You want to believe that with the dagger in your hand, you can protect it and them. A future where, even if it ends before you want, you will always cherish it.

That the grief is worth the joy, and you want to believe it is the same for them.

"I'll see you tonight."

It is a promise, and as you smile back at Rafayel, whose eyes brighten like flames in the night, leading you home. You promise yourself you'll take the step.

—-----

The dagger rests comfortably in your grip as you push. It is sharp and quick, and you dispatch the practice wanderers with the kind of violent glee you often get when you find the drive to push and flare.

When there is something to fight for on the other side. The rage that carries you past your hatred of EVER. That pulled you into Sylus' lap with the gun in hand.

That you will keep snarling if it means you will end up victorious.

It is the knowledge that you have something to protect, this world, Linkon, your friends, the people waiting for you at home.

It is the feeling of finally flying, the feeling of resonating with Caleb when you were a kid, and feeling the gravity leave, as you floated up holding his hand. As you laughed as you span. Pulling him as high as you could before the connection dimmed, or Gran caught you both.

Catharsis that reminds you that there are moments when your heart is light. Even as you cut through the arm of a knave, and kick back at a wyrm.

As you stand in the training ring, victorious and pleasantly sore. As you remember why you pushed through every night your arm didn't work as you wanted. As you struggled against the tide.

It is the acknowledgement of months of work to process and fight. It is the gleam in Jenna's eye as you achieve, and remind her why you were here in the first place.

That this is what you can do, that this is who you are. Every contest, every trial, everything. If you fail, you stand again.

"Well," Jenna starts, stepping over as the emulation stops, her hand extends again, but this time her smile is there at the start, "Let's get you back on missions."

You almost jump forwards, almost grab her hand far too tight, before Tara comes out the side, a streak of vivid energy to tackle you. Leaving Jenna's hand floating in the air, before it covers her mouth, so she can push down the laugh.

"Tara. My bruises."

"They'll heal!"

Nero and Simone watch, he offers you a nod, while Simone grins, "All those long times staring at these horrible wanderer emulations, ended up worth it huh?"

"Horrible? They're a skillful recreation of accurate wanderer behaviour! The stud-"

"I get it, I get it. They're great, super realistic." She snorts, kicking at the floor with the toe of her shoe, "They even splatter."

"An accurate recre-"

"Nero, can you go file the report with Andrew, he'll need to know."

"Yes Captain."

Before he goes he nods at you again, "Glad you're back, I have so many notes. The new Lumiere show had Arbiterwings!" You barely get chance to respond, because Jenna raises a brow and he darts off. Before she can give him an order again.

"I swear, he's been biting at the bit to tell you about his new show, we told him he could message you, but he said it wasn't the same." Simone steps over, pulling Tara off you finally.

"Hey!"

"Two minutes is too long, you're acting like they died!"

"Some of us have a lot of feelings."

"I have a lot, right now I'm hungry, we've been watching for hours."

There's another smothered laugh, as Jenna straightens out, "Alright you three, you're done for the day, go find Nero and get something to eat." She looks at you, "You can start next week, you'll keep doing drills to ensure you keep on top of your physical state, and keep up with your medical checks."

"Yes Captain." The salute is familiar, practiced, even with the cool metal against your forehead.

Whole.

And you're more than sure of the scar pulling at your lip, as your smile rises to your lips.

You will fight for the future again.

[marleyybluu]

Four and Counting

husband!Oscar Diaz x fem!black!reader

Word count: 4.4k (oops)

Warnings: everything is fluff, the cutest couple alive, another pregnancy, hints at abortion (but supportingly?), Oscar being the cutest fucking husband, self-indulgent asf cant lie like I want be in love like this

if i missed any lmk

AN: yall do not know how long this mf has been in my drafts omg I finally finished. This fic is just drowning in love. No smut 🤷🏾‍♀️. A bit rushed in certain places but it all fits pretty well in my opinion. this is not the end of the series but its like the end of the main chapters. there will be lore on the couple obvi, updates on the kids and the family as a whole bcus i am obsessed. hope yall enjoy.

You didn't know how it happened, you blinked and soon there were four. You had four kids running around your home filling it with innocent joy and laughter, and the occasional attitude. It was a full house and a busy life, but it could be enjoyable. You'd become a stay-at-home mom. At first, you weren't sure if you'd be able to manage, you loved your job a lot and worked extremely hard for it but with your growing family, your kids needed you more.

With Oscar opening a second restaurant you thought it'd be a good idea to bring up what's been gnawing away at you and he tells you that he's behind you no matter what path you choose. You put in your letter of resignation and bid your co-workers a teary-eyed farewell with promises to visit as much as they can. You had to admit it was a nice break, you didn't have to wake up as early, you weren't on your feet as much and the house was nice and quiet for a few hours when your children were either in school or at daycare. But then you had baby Rosie and your house had returned to a screaming, hollering mess.

She was a loud one and very expressive, babbled and cooed to anyone who would listen. "And then what happens after that?" You say laying next to her gently stroking her hair. She kicks her feet with excitement and responds in her usual baby language. "Oh my goodness." You respond. You could do this all day. You hated to admit it but you missed the baby stage so much and you were grateful for your little one. You'd been lounging around all day, only getting up to shower when she had fallen asleep and the occasional time when you needed to grab her bottle.

You pepper her chunky face in kisses and she squeals with happiness. "Que hermosa." You giggle. You two are so wrapped up in your world you don't even hear when the door unlocks and Oscar strolls in, he decides to check in on you since everything at the restaurant was going fine today. He notices the obvious vacancy of your presence downstairs and stumbles into the kitchen thinking you were feeding Rosie but he was wrong. He hears his baby's infamous noises from upstairs and smiles following the sweet noises. He creeps in on you two.

His head lolls to the side and rests on the door frame. He'd seen you like this many times (clearly) and it never got old. The way you lovingly interact with each child at any stage in their life, it was sweet to witness you give the same sweet eyes to Rafa at his big age as you did when he was a baby. Just a gentle reminder that he chose the right woman to marry, the best one to make a mother.

Rosie turns her little head and screams when her eyes land on her father. "Hola, mi corazoncito." He coos entering the room matching the same excitement as his baby which causes her to become even more riled up. He scoops her up and holds her in the air and all you can do is watch and grin like the Cheshire Cat. He brings her down and kisses her cheeks. "Cómo estás, mi mariposa?" He asks Rosie and she nuzzles her forehead in his cheek. Her nonverbal way of saying she missed him. Oscar takes his place next to you on the bed. "How are you, mama?"

You pucker your lips and he smiles dropping a kiss. You pout at how quick it was but quickly subsides when he gives you a forehead kiss. "I'm good. Sleepy. Hungry. Missing you."

"Missed you too, that's why I came home. And I brought some food from work."

You squinted. "Who cooked it?"

He chuckled. "Jason."

"Yes!" You fist pump. "Jason makes the best fucking food I swear."

Oscar's head seems to tilt even more, he's insulted by your statement but you smile sheepishly placing an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Not as amazing as you do." He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. Rosie babbles as her little reminder that she's still in the room. "No one forgot you chica" He affirms giving her some more smooches. "Let's go get mommy her food."

You sit up and stretch; some much-needed cracks are heard via your aching bones, and when your arms come down, you feel much looser and less tense than before. "It's okay, iré contigo." (I'll come with you.)

The three of you plop down the stairs and you part ways as Oscar heads to the kitchen while you shuffle to the living room and drop onto the couch, your lounging was short-lived when the doorbell rang. You huff getting back up on your feet. You swing the door open with a mean mug on your face until your eyes land on your mom and your features immediately soften.

"Hi, Mommy." You smile reaching out for her. "Hi sweetie, how are you?"

"I'm great," You pull her inside and close the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the rack nearby, her shoes slip off her feet and she places those next to Spooky's on the mat. "Came to visit, figured you'd need some... company..." She trails off and— not so subtly— stretches out her neck to see if she can spot the baby. "Mhm." You say crossing your arms, you call bullshit.

"She's in the kitchen with Spooky."

And just like that, your mother leaves you in her dust. You hear her high-pitched, "Hiiiii GG's babyyyyy, helloooo." And you can't help but smile. Your mom always seemed to become happier with each grandchild you produced.

You begin to feel left out when you hear all the commotion in the kitchen so you decide to join them. Your daughter has your mom's nose in her small fist while your mom blows raspberries in her little tummy, she erupts with laughter and you catch a glimpse of Oscar with nothing but heart eyes for his baby girl. You sneak over to him and slide your arms around his abdomen, he drops his arm over your shoulder and draws you close. He plants a kiss on your head. The microwave beeps behind you signalling that whatever was in there had finished heating up. Your eyes widen when the aroma of cheese hit your senses. "Is that lasagna?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He made a little dish for you, told him you've been craving it lately."

You squeal with excitement as you take the hot dish out of the microwave, you set it on the counter and danced over to the drawers in hot search for a fork, your successful in finding one and greedily stick it inside the soft noodles that were jam packed with delicious ingredients. You take one bite and practically faint at the taste.

"Just needs one more thing." You think out loud, you hustle over to the pantry and grab a bag of barbecue chips, you snag a handful and crack them in your hand, sprinkling them on top. Oscar stands there... confused.

"Girl, what the hell is that?" Your mom asks equally appalled.

You shrug and take another bite. "It's good though." You muffle with a full mouth.

"I love you." Oscar sighs and you laugh at his adoration for anything you do, you blow him a kiss before taking another bite. You don't see it but your mom has her eye on you with a very interesting theory brewing in her head. Your husband's phone rings and he excuses himself to answer it leaving you alone with your mom and Rosie, who is quiet and happy on her grandmother's chest, her little eyes slowly closing with sleep.

You try your best not to make too much noise while you reach for more-

"Are you pregnant again?"

You nearly choke on your saliva at the ridiculous question. You quickly shake your head. "No!? Are you nuts? I just had her and she is the last one." You assure but your mom isn't believing it. "This little concoction says otherwise."

You roll your eyes. "I just... like pasta and chips... together."

It did sound ridiculous.

"Since when?"

"Like... a month ago..."

She sucks her teeth. "Mi amor, I'm telling you, I think you're pregnant."

This was insane, this was an insane conversation to be having. You were one hundred percent sure there was nothing and no one in your belly-- just the mere thought of having two under two was giving you the heebie-jeebies. "I'm just saying-"

You groan like the irritated teenager you once were, "Ay Mama, no más charlas de bebé, por favor." (No more baby talk, please.)

She agrees to ease off the topic but it remains in the back of her mind.

-- --

Later that day after Oscar's gathered the others from school, you sneak out of the house to do some grocery shopping. It was a bit of time for yourself, a time when you didn't have to keep your eye on your tiny little humans. You go through the aisles for the essentials and when that's done you browse for treats and snacks for your kids (that you and Oscar will eventually munch on as well.)

You cautiously approach the next aisle that is stacked with condoms, contraceptives and pregnancy tests. You meant to move, your hands ready to push the cart forward but your feet are firmly planted on the floor. You sigh and turn in, quickly grabbing a box and dumping it in the cart as though it's not for you. "She better be fucking wrong." You mutter to yourself.

-- --

With all kids fed, bathed and in bed before twelve it allows you to have the bathroom to yourself for a while. You wedge the knuckle of your index finger between your two rows of teeth, you stare at the box and sigh. "Please prove her wrong." You whisper to no one in particular. You pop open the box and rip open the wrapping of the test. One original and one digital. You sit on the toilet and do what you've done a hundred times, you pee on the sticks and set them aside until the timer goes off.

You clean yourself up and wash your hands, you know better than to just stand there and watch the sticks waiting for that fate-sealing answer but you go against yourself and stare. You're in a trance until there's a knock at the door, it startled you and you clutch your non-existent pearls for dear life. "Que?"

Oscar asks, "You good? Didn't need company tonight?" He's referring to your commonly shared showers which, now that you think about it, is probably one of the reasons you're in this predicament again!

"No, it's not that. I'm just..."

You huff and unlock the door swinging it open with displeasure on your face, your arms crossed as you nod over to the tests on the counter. His eyes follow your actions and pop out when he sees them. "How-"

"Mom said it was weird that I ate the lasagna like that."

He chuckled. "Didn't want to say anything." 

You whine saying, "It's not funny, I just thought it was a change in my palette or something, I mix random foods all the time. I-" You searched for every excuse you could find. Oscar's face softens at the worry in your voice. "I just had Rosie." You sigh sounding depleted. You turn your back to the tests when you hear that all too familiar sound. You squeeze your eyes shut, if you don't look you won't know the answer and you can go about your merry way. Your husband offers to look for you and leans over. You hear the quietest gasp he's ever uttered and you know. You spin around to look at them yourself.

Positive. Both of them show positive.

You look up at Spooky and he's already looking at you waiting for your reaction so he can curate his own. "How do you feel about it?"

You shrug. You truly didn't know, you didn't even have words. Your throat was dry. You pick up one of them and look at it. And you feel nothing. Empty. Just waiting for a sense of gratitude to come across and for some reason, you can't seem to produce it. You put the test down and leave.

Spooky's still standing there with his heart in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should've listened to you, that two was enough, and then three and four. He's after you, right on your heels as you enter your bedroom. You sit on the bed and fall back onto the sheets, you cover your eyes and shake your head at yourself and him. "I just had Rosie." You repeat to yourself. And then it happens. A tear slips and as quick as you are to wipe it, he knows you like the back of his hand— your breathing gets choppy and choked, you sniffle. The bed dips beside you and the sound of the sheets ruffling as he lays down.

"Háblame." (Talk to me)

You take a deep breath. You can be honest. "I don't know how I feel. I'm not sad but I'm not happy. I just hoped Rosie would be a little older. They all have good age gaps and- Oh god, what if they don't want another sibling? And Rosie and I spend so much time together, they just got used to her-- Emilia was so clingy when I had her, she felt so left out and-and-"

Oscar presses his hand over your thigh. "Cariño. Respirar. Por favor.

You breathe shakily. "It's okay not to know how to feel. If this is not what you want... I'm here for you, your moms here... the kids are here. We have more than enough, Sí?"

You nod. He reaches over and pulls you into him, you rest your forehead on his chest while he rubs smooth circles on your back. "We have some time for you to think about it right? It's your world mi amor, we're just living in it. I got you no matter what."

"Spooky."

"Mhm."

"Thank you."

He smiles and kisses your head. "It's my job baby."

— — You'd been hiding your belly from everyone, even the kids. It was easy for the most part because you only wore baggy clothes and they made you look a little large anyway but then there were not so subtle signs— like the heavy breathing from doing just about anything, and your walk? Oh, your walk was not normal no matter how hard you tried. So you decide to come clean to your kids and other close family during a little gathering that Spooky's brother, Cesar, was hosting. Cesar was the only person who knew and you two asked if it'd be okay to announce it tonight.

He was fine with it, excited actually.

Your hands shake. You were cautious in deciding on having this baby, it took you a while to feel anything. At first, it was uncertainty, did you want another? Would you be crushed if you didn't have it?

But as the weeks passed you couldn't help but fall in love with the growth, the bigger you got the giddier you became. Modelling in front of the mirror any chance you got, and when all the kids were asleep you'd talk to your belly and giggle with every shift they made.

"Listo?"  He asks and you nod confidently. Oscar whistles over to Cesar giving him a thumbs up. Cesar turns down the music to gather everyone's attention. "I just want to thank everyone for coming out, it's been a while since we've all been in one place, right?"

The crowd mumbles in agreement. "But it's great to see everyone in good health and good spirits—" He raises his Corona bottle and the crowd follows with their drinks (including the kids and their juice boxes) "Salud." He smiles.

"Salud." The crowd repeats. You clear your throat and enthusiastically say, "Oh let me see if I can get a picture. Everyone gets in."

They shuffle into one pile as best they can, you grab your phone and hold it landscape, you press record and say, "Alright everybody in... great, now saaaay... Y/n and Spooky are having another babyyyy!"

There were collective gasps, the word "what!?" Being thrown around in every language. "Excuse me!?" Your mom hollers. You unbutton your cardigan and turn to the side having worn a tight dress on purpose. "Surpriiiiiise." You sing out.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Jasmine screams stretching her arms out for you, you gasp and playfully smack her hand. "Not in front of my kids, puta!"

She tells you to shut up and hug her, your mom joins in and soon the children and in that moment it hits how loved and supported you are by everyone around you. This was your village and it was a damn good one too.

Oscar's friends dap him up and congratulate him. They hug you as well and whisper that they hope it's another girl. They loved spoiling your daughters. Anything they asked for the boys were sure to buy it no problema.

"Well, actually," You begin to say. "We know what we're having."

Rafa, your oldest comes up to you. "Is it a boy?" His eyes gloss over with the hope that you would say yes, he'd been hoping that Emilia (your third) was going to be a boy but he lucked out. You had an idea. You hunch over to match his eye level. "You see that cake over there." You whisper and he nods. "Papi and I were going to cut it, but I think you should get the first slice."

He shrugs and you walk him over to the white cream frosted cake. You and Oscar help him hold the knife and carefully slide the blade into the spongey treat making one incision and you help him make another. He pushes the knife under to take the slice out and plops it on his plate, he reaches for a fork when he looks down to see the inside was blue.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved with the understanding this was his moment. He looks up at you. "You're having a boy!?"

You nod with tears spilling over and ruining your makeup. "I am."

He puts the plate down and hugs you tightly and that's when the crowd goes wild. "Thank you, Mommy." He sobs which makes you cry even more. "Oh, you're welcome sweetie."

— — Nine months had sped past you and it seemed as if it was just yesterday that you found out you were pregnant. Now, you lay on a hospital bed, covered over by a few blankets to help with post-partum shivers, your jaw rattling and fingers dancing involuntarily. But that wasn't your main focus.

Oscar hovered over you staring at the sleeping newborn in your arms. He made the cutest noises while he nuzzled against your chest. Your finger ghosts over his nose and he reacts by moving his head and sighing. "Are you sick of me already, mi hijo?(my son)" You joke nudging him with your nose. "You get used to her." Oscar chimes in and you suck your teeth hitting him as hard as you could. "Cállate culo."(Shut up, ass)

"Hitting me in front of my son?"

"And I'll do it again."

He smiles and leans down to kiss you. "You know I like you a little feisty, mami."

You sigh, so in love with your new baby, in love with your husband— just filled with overpouring affection. You can't stop staring at your new son and your husband couldn't stop gazing at either of you. He'd been in this room over and over and he swore up and down you made it look so easy, that you looked like a goddess bringing new air and life into this world. Even though you thought you looked like a monster from the swamp.

Oscar tells you in a loving tone. "You're doing an amazing job, seriously, you... you're just amazing."

You blink rapidly to keep tears from spilling over. When you met this man he was so rough and tough, such a brute that it seemed impossible to get him to even admit that he liked you, but under all that fake-cold persona, was the gentlest giant and the biggest sweetheart you'd ever met—a man who spreads nothing but positivity around you and your children.

"I'm so happy, I met you." He mutters. You were his wife, the mother of his children and his best friend rolled into one and that's all he wanted out of this life. You look up at him with glossy eyes. "I'm happy I met you too."

You share a kiss as a tear slips out, you just can't hold them back any longer. He kisses your forehead as his thumb swipes over your cheek. Your attention is drawn back to your son when he begins wiggling in your hold, you press your nose against his hair taking a whiff of that fresh baby smell. As you soak in the presence of your child, your husband's phone buzzes against the fabric of the diaper bag, he looks over and your mom's name catches his attention. He looks to you for some sort of permission and your brows furrow together. "It's okay."

He rushes over to answer, and just then your nurse walks in with a smile on her face. "Just came to check on mommy and baby." She announces.

"Ok... yeah, I'll meet you guys downstairs... bye." Oscar hangs up and looks over at you. "Your parents are here, with the kids. I'll just be back okay?"

"Mhm." You hum. He gives you a quick kiss before he speeds out of the room. The nurse smirks as she helps you adjust yourself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position, asking you if you'd like your son to be put back in the bassinet to which you respond yes and she gently takes him. "I apologize if this is forward but... I've seen a lot of couples in here and let me tell you, I've never seen anything like you two. He is so attentive."

You giggle. "Thank you. I just got really lucky with him."

A few minutes had passed and she had finished her check-up letting you know that she'd be back in a bit for another check-in. Once she left that's when your family, quietly, barged in. Oscar approaches you first with a sleeping Rosie in his arms and you happily reach for her and coddle her in your arms. Rafael, Elliana and Emilia gently charged over to you, shuffling off their shoes and finding their places on the bed with you. You greeted them as best as you could, with restricted movement all you could do was reach for their faces. Your parents and Oscar stand in the background of it all observing you in your motherly nature and Oscar can't fight the grin that has been plastered on his face since the day he met you.

"Baby." Emilia chimes in drawing everyone's attention to her now. "Yeah, mira, mommy had the baby."

Rafael seemed enamoured by the presence of his new sibling. He loved his sisters, you knew that, but by the looks of it-- this would be a special bond. "Rafa, would you like to hold him first?" Oscar asks.

He nodded eagerly and readied himself by sitting up straight and folding his arms. Oscar removes your son from his bassinet and carefully places him in Rafa's arms. The baby was a bit squirmy, upset that he'd been disturbed but with the soothing 'shhhh' from his mother's lips he settled down. Your two girls surround their brothers with curiosity.

Emilia giggles. "Hi, cutie."

"He's so tiny," Eliana mutters. Your parents finally make their way over to you after letting you have your moment with the kids. They congratulate you and your dad holds up a Chipotle bag and you beamed. "Thank you, this hospital food sucks." You whisper.

They attempted to take Rosie from you but you assured them it was fine, having missed her snuggles anyway. "Want me to feed you?" Your husband asks and you snicker shaking your head. "Está bien papito, I'll eat when I'm ready. But thank you."

— — After all the kids had their turn holding the baby their attention spans had turned to you and their father, telling you everything that had happened since you left the house.

"And then Ellie licked the cookie and put it back in my bowl," Rafa whines and you hold back a laugh. "Eliana you do not do that, that's gross."

She shrugs and nuzzles closer to her grandfather on the couch who is causing a ruckus with all his snoring. Your mom nudges him awake and he hits his famous line, "I'm not sleeping, I just closed my eyes."

"Think it's time for us to go." Your mom says. "Um.." Rafa chimes. "Is it okay if I stay?"

"I- yeah, I guess so." You answer. Oscar says that you'll keep Rosie since she has now found a new sleep space in his arms. Your mom carries a sleeping Emilia and your dad carries Eliana on his back. They say their goodbyes and are out the door.

— —

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Rafael had fallen asleep on the couch while Rosie, who'd only woken up to ear and fell back into slumber, lay under her older brother's arm. You sigh contently as you gaze at them.

"Did you ever think when we met at that laundromat, that we'd be here?" Oscar mumbled as he held your baby boy, tracing his finger along his little nose. You turn to him. You shrug.

"Maybe with one kid... two.... But not five." You joked. He chuckled.

"Did you?"

He nods. "I knew you were gonna be my girl from the moment I picked up that sexy red bra you dropped-"

"Spookyyyy." You gasped gently hitting his arm.

He laughs. "Que? Man, once I saw those cups I started barking."

"You are so fucking stupid."

He shrugs. "I know. But I'm stupid in love with you."

You playfully rolled your eyes at his corny, yet sweet, line.

"I'm stupid in love with you too."

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are appreciated. hopefully, I'll be back a whole lot sooner. peace and love

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