#i have now gone through a couple lists to see what i missed and ended up changing over a dozen more settings

[manicpixiedust]

i hate. windows 11 operating system.

[fastandcarlos]

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much

“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”

Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.

He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.

Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.

A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.

Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.

Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.

Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.

The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.

Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.

Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.

You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.

Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.

Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.

Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.

Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”

Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.

It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.

Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.

“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.

He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.

Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.

Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.

“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”

As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.

It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.

“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.

His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.

“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”

“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”

“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”

“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.

“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.

“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”

Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.

As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”

He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.

“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.

“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.

“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.

Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.

The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.

What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.

The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.

You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.

Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.

He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.

There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.

Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”

The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.

“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.

“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”

You’re missing piece?”

Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

“That’s cute,” you whispered.

And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.

“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.

“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”

“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.

And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[russellsppttemplates]

No more of this (Lando Norris)

Lando is trying to stop the hurt of loosing you by getting ahead of it and (trying to) leave you first

Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ I took a bit of a gamble with this one, and I'm hoping it is still a good enough piece to read! This was from a request for which I had another idea whilst I was writing this one, so I might work on it if this truly is a bad take on it!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: relationship troubles, miscommunication, anxiety symptoms, alludes to the passing of a family member and consequent inheritances

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Lando wasn't sure how long he had been in the room on his own, but he knew he didn't have it in him to leave soon.

He thought he wasn't enough, he was too much trouble for anyone around him, that's why no one is there for him right now.

He grabbed his phone and swiped the screen to check if the texts he sent you had gone through, but the lack of an answer from your part was simply that.

Not even Y/N cares about him or what he needs. Maybe he didn't word it in the right away? Surely, Y/N would have replied by now if he had written it down properly and not appeared like a clingy, needy child. Maybe he could send another one, just to make sure it is all alright.

To lovie ✨️

I'm sorry if that was a lot, but I just wanted to know how your day had been! I love you, sweet girl 🧡

There, all better.

The McLaren driver waited for your answer, hoping to make ammends from his previous tries.

Maybe she's busy, she has so much on her plate as well. She can't take care of Lando too. Lando wonders what his girlfriend would do if she knew you felt like this. If she found him lying in a bed, unable to move and startled by the idea of facing the outside? She would leave him right then and there. Y/N can only take so much and she's not going to take this.

The tears that fell went unoticed until they pooled on the pillow cover fabric, wetting it and dampening Lando's cheek and jaw.

The weight on his chest lightened when his phone vibrated.

From lovie ✨️

I'm so sorry, Lan - my phone was on silent because of the meeting with the notary and I forgot to turn it back up 🤦‍♀️

It has been a busy couple of days with the signings and handovers, but I can already see the end of it!

And how was your day, bubs?

I miss you loads and can't wait to kiss your handsome face 🧡 I love you 💖

There it goes, that wasn't so bad, right? She replied - she's safe, she has a reason why and she wrote I love you. Maybe all of that fuss was for nothing.

Lando quickly typed back a reply, hitting the button to send after reading it a couple of times to ensure it was good.

To lovie ✨️

It's okay, sweet girl, you don't have to worry! It's been same old, had a training session with Jon and then worked on the sim.

Can't wait for you to be home soon, I love you so much ❤️

You replied, that was all he needed. Everything is back to normal, the heartbeat has slowed down, the weight on the chest had been lifted, and breathing wasn't so hard anymore.

For now, anyway.

The last two days had been fine, good even - Lando spent the afternoon playing padel with Max Verstappen, streaming with Quadrant and even played golf on his own, relief washing over him when, despite being on his own, his thoughts didn't take him to the dark side like he expected them to.

You had FaceTimed every night and exchanged texts in the morning so there hadn't been any reason to worry - until now anyway.

When Max and Pietra told you they were flying to Monaco to spend the week there, you decided to postpone leaving for two days and take the flight with them instead.

You'd have to have reached the realisation that Lando is not the best you can do. You couldn't possibly be that blind.

Y/N knows you're he's not good enough, she knows she deserves so much more and now that she has property back home and a safe ground, she'll leave him before he knows it.

It builds up again, his breathing short and laboured while his heart speeds up, his hands unconsciously retreating into themselves and making fists as his nails graze his palm.

You are going to leave him.

Not if Lando leaves you first.

"This isn't even the worst flight we've had", Max reasoned once you landed in Nice, "you're really feeling it, aren't you?", he nudged your shoulder.

"It's just been a busy couple of weeks", you sighed, looking for your luggage on the carrousel, "I'm so glad it's all dealt with now and I can finally be home again", you smil3d tiredly.

"You mean you can finally be with Lando again", Pietra teased you.

"Can you blame me, though? I miss him so much I'm not sure I can keep away from him for long once I hug him", you admitted, spotting the bright blue luggage on the conveyor belt.

"Lando just texted me saying he is by the informative screens", Max offered, grabbing his and Pietra's luggage and leaving the way out of the busy airport.

Once you spotted your boyfriend, you hastened your pace to approach him, leaving the luggage on the side so you could jump into his embrace.

"Hey, my love, I missed you so much", Lando held you impossibly tight to him, nipping on the skin of your neck and inhaling your scent.

Y/N is back, she's here.

"Me too, baby", you said, kissing his neck multiple times, "I'm so glad to be home", you mumbled, pulling a smile out of him before you kissed his lips.

"One could argue we are here too, but we're clearly not that important", Max joked, patting Lando's back where he could given that you were clinging to him like a koala.

"The car is in the -2 Parking zone", Lando offered, grabbing your luggage and walking behind his bestfriend and his girlfriend while keeping you close to him.

For now, this would have to suffice before things changed forever.

The whole drive back to Lando's apartment involved light chatter and catching up on the past few weeks.

"I think we should go out, enjoy some of the night life while you still can", Max slapped Lando's shoulder once you had settled in and unpacked.

"I can get us entrances", the Formula One driver agreed, grabbing his phone before he went through his contacts.

Once the entrances and the dinner reservations were secured, the four of you took turns in showering and getting ready, Lando never letting you leave his sight for long.

"You look beautiful, lovie", Lando complimented, watching your shake out the curls you had done on your hair.

"Thank you, bubs - you look really handsome too, I love it when you wear all black", you mused, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles gently.

It was all good. You didn't seem mad or upset with him, in the contrary actually - like he felt, you too were a bit needy for his touch and to have him close to you, offering him reassuring words and sweet nothings every time you could. Maybe his thoughts were a lie. Some of them have been, maybe those were too.

The dinner was lovely and you were able to walk to the club you'd be spending the night in, getting drinks first before finding the area you were staying in. Lando was quickly pulled by the DJ on the booth, recognising him from previous nights out, while you, Max and Pietra stayed where you were.

He was enjoying himself before he noticed you were chatting with someone else, remembering him from your friend's birthday.

He has a girlfriend who is Y/N's friend, Lando has nothing to worry about.

Until he does.

He doesn't miss the way you hug him or the way you engage in light chat with him, all smiles and cheers.

You deserve someone who is always there for you, who can be present and make you smile like that all the time, and he knows he's not the person for the job.

"I'm going back down to my group - thanks for the invite", Lando shook his hand before pulling the DJ for a quick hug, making his way to you and your friends.

"Hey, love, you're back!", you smiled with a big wave to beckon him over, lacing your hand in his as soon as you were close enough, "you remember Marvin, right?".

"Yes, hi, how are you?", he mused, shaking his hand before protectively placing his arm around your waist.

Marvin had to leave to go be with his friend group as since then, you noticed Lando seemed weird. He was usually the life of the party and he always enjoyed himself in these environments, so to see him just stand there and sway his head to the music was a foreign sight.

"Dance with me, baby", you put your back to his chest, letting his hand hold you by your waist still while you swayed your bodies.

"I love you, Y/N, never forget that", he mumbled spontaneously after a while, kissing your cheek multiple times before hiding your face in your neck.

"I love you too, Lan, so much", you replied back as that was the last clue that something was going on.

A couple hours later, and after you had been sat at the booth for quite a bit, you told Lando that you felt a little tired, Max and Pietra agreeing with you that all the travelling had caught up with you, so you made your way out and back to his apartment.

"Have a goodnight, guys", you waved as Max helped his girlfriend into the room, the blonde woman having already fallen asleep on the way.

"Are you feeling better, Y/N?", Lando wondered as he watched you put your heels back in their spot once you stepped inside your bedroom and closed the door behind you.

You debated telling him the truth, but your relationship has been built in honesty and trust about everything, so the course to take was obvious, "Actually", you began, "I am totally fine, but I noticed you weren't great, you didn't seem that happy and I thought we could talk about it , if you'd like", you suggested, "or we could sleep, I'm fine with either, but I hope you choose the one that makes you feel better", you smiled.

The smile quickly vanished when Lando got up from the bed, his body language tight and tense, "now you care about me? Now you want to know if I'm okay or if I'm doing what makes me happy? All after I felt like shit and had to deal with things on my own?", Lando mused, taking you aback with such words.

"Lando, baby, what do you mean with that?", you asked.

"You were here and I was there, and then I have been here while you've been back home and you haven't been there for me", Lando spat, "I just wanted you by my side, I needed you and you weren’t there for me", he concluded. The anger previously in his tone was replaced by sadness and a hint of shame even.

"Lando, it's not like I have been on vacation purposefully away from you - there have been matters that my family needed me to take care of as there wasn't anyone else to take that responsibility! I don't understand where this is coming from - if I wasn't with you it's because I really couldn't be there!", you argued.

"It's... I can't do this right now", Lando looked up as tears started brimming his eyes.

"It seems not", you defended yourself, feeling the hints of accusation and the lack of flexibility and empathy from your boyfriend, "excuse me", you offered, grabbing your pyjamas and leaving your shared bedroom.

The accusations you threw to one another were heard by your guests as Max looked for you while you adjusted the living room sofa so that it could turn into a single bed, not needing the full sized mattress since you'd be clearly sleeping alone.

"What are you doing here?", Max wondered.

"You don't need to pretend you didn't hear that", you shrugged your shoulders before wiping your cheeks with your thumb, pulling on the sheet so the corner wouldn't fly off during the night.

"I can't take the guest room when you are sleeping here, Y/N", Max offered, pulling your hand so you would get up.

"I'm fine, it's not like I'm counting on getting that much sleep", you mumbled, sitting down against the cushions.

"You two are going to sort it out", Max gulped, "you always do, Y/N", sitting down next to you.

"Do you think we will?", you muttered, the weight of the words leaving your mouth settling in the possibility, "did he tell you anything? I'm at a loss at where all of this has come from", you offered your perspective.

"You're Lando and Y/N - there is no way in this world that you don't make it work. You are meant to be, no matter whatever turn you took in your life or whatever decisions you could've taken differently, you and Lando were supposed to meet in every single one of them", Max comforted as he rubbed your back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Things are so messed up between us", you tutted at your boyfriend's earlier words and the disbelief that this was happening.

"Lando has been under a lot of pressure lately", Max offered, "I know his words hurt you and I'm certainly not justifying them, but he's... He just wants to be his best self for you, and between his family issues and this season's prospects, not having you with him there has shaken the foundation he thought was his steady self".

"I didn't notice it - yay for the bad girlfriend points!", you jokingly cheered before groaning, "I need out of this day".

"That's why you should go to the spare bedroom to sleep it off, Y/N", Max sternly said, "and you're not a bad girlfriend for this, not at all".

"I'm staying here, I told you", you stated, "you go and take that spare room, P is probably asleep on the bed already", you giggled, "I'll be fine".

"Tomorrow is a new day and a new opportunity for a fresh outlook of this whole situation", Max tapped his thighs before getting up, "Good night, Y/N".

"Good night, Max", you waved as he turned off the ceiling lights and closed the French doors that separated the living room from the dining room and the rest of the apartment.

Lando tossed and turned around for what felt like the hundredth time since he laid down on the mattress.

His words didn't come out the way he wanted them to.

But maybe it was for the best.

He didn't want to hurt you, and that is both a burden and a guilt that he will carry for the rest of his life.

She'll never forgive him. Not now that he's really shown how messed up and broken he is. How the playful, giggly boyfriend she was with is now a shell of a poor excuse of a man. He had been spending the nights alone since you were gone, but now that he knew you were - hopefully - still somewhere in the apartment and not next to him, the weight on his chest couldn't be heavier. It gets harder to breathe, and the thoughts don't stop.

He's lost the best person in his life because these insecurities got the best of him. Once again, he's letting them win and take charge of his life.

Lando sits up and holds the pillow you usually sleep with, trying to catch a small whiff of your scent that still lingers there and usually calms him down.

He's done something really bad. Maybe this was him. This was who he was nowadays and he was truly doing you the favour of letting you out before it got too bad.

When Lando wakes up after sleeping for what feels like a long nap, only Max is up as he steps into the kitchen.

"Morning", Lando muttered, not sure where to pick up from what he knows his bestfriend heard only a couple of hours ago.

"Morning, mate! P is feeling the hangover, so she'll be out for a while! Let's go on a run, it will do us both good", he put his hands on Lando's shoulders and patting them.

Lando groans and looks longingly at the living room, noticing the closed doors, wondering if you were still asleep.

Such an ass he is, letting his girlfriend sleep on the sofa.

Lando and Max run the usual distance, stopping to stretch at the little park area near his apartment, and because it's still early, there is no one else around but them and an older man walking his dog.

"Will you tell me what's going on with you and Y/N? Because by the looks of it, you really should talk to someone about it", Max stated. There wasn't a chance that Lando could run away from this, figuratively or literally, so he explained to his bestfriend what had been going on his mind.

"Do you think I am someone worthy of her? Y/N deserves so much better than me, so it's best if she leaves me first", Lando concluded.

"If she leaves you first, what?! Do you think it won't hurt you? Or her? Is that what this is all about?", Max argued, "you're seriously telling me that the only way you see a solution for this is to break up with her because you're so sure she wants to break up with you?! This is ridiculous, Lando!!".

"Of course it will hurt, Max! I love that girl with everything I have and I can't bear the thought of disappointing her, of her having less than she deserves, and I also can't even think about her leaving me! The anticipation that any moment she could say those words has been killing me!", he admitted outloud for the first time.

"Lando, that girl loves you with every bone of her body, do you really think she is going to break up with you?", Max sighed, "your mind is lying to you and it pains me to see the way it's doing it to you and the people around you".

"I'm not where I should be, these thoughts are consuming me left and right and I can't tell apart what is real and what my mind is catastrophising ", Lando agreed.

"Lando, people can't help you if you don't tell them you're feeling like that", Max stated, both sternly and empathetically, "and there are so many people that care about you".

They sit in silence in the bench as Lando ponders his words and Max replays them on his head.

"Is that what is going on in your head, though? That Y/N is going to leave you, and so you're getting ahead of it by breaking up with her?", Max mused.

"When you say it like that, it sounds so stupid and the opposite of what I want to do", Lando scoffed at himself, "but everything is aligned to it - she can do so much better for herself, and it's stupid I know, but my mind goes on and on about this and it almost never quietens down", he gulped.

"Y/N doesn't want to leave you, Lando, that's another lie you're telling yourself", Max offered, "she loves you and you deserve eachother because you're it, you're the endgame and you can work through this, but she needs to know".

"I know - sometimes I do anyway, I think", Lando chuckled lightly at his own joke, "we need to go home, I need to speak with Y/N".

"Indeed you do", Max agreed, getting up and following him to the apartment.

Pietra was already up and in the kitchen when the boys arrived, pecking her boyfriend's lips and looking at Lando, "Y/N's up, we have had breakfast and she went back to the living room while I was in the shower", she informed as Lando nodded.

"Can I come in?", Lando asked after knocking on the door.

"Yes, it's your apartment after all", you mused as he stepped inside

"No, Y/N", Lando groaned, "this is our place, my love, and there's something I need to tell you, many things in fact", he added.

"You should start then", you patted the spot next to the mattress where you had spent the night.

"I love you, Y/N, so much, that was never a question, and it was because I love you so much that every now and again, I have these thoughts that I'm not good enough for you, that I can't give you what you deserve and that you'd be better off with someone else, or without me", he took a big breath in, "I just wanted to be my best self for you, and it all comes crashing and building up and up and I can't shut the noise down".

"Lando, you could've told me, I would've helped, try to do my best in helping you so you weren't carrying this on your own", you offered, your hand crawling to his so you could hold it in yours.

"I hated that I needed you that much because you also have your own life and you don't want to be next to me every waking second. In my head, you shouldn't have to deal with me being needy of feeling like this", he admitted.

"And I'll be, I don't care what you need or say, Lando, I'm going to be here for you, I don't have to go back for a while now, so I'll be where you need me", you offered, "and, Lando, you could never be too much for me, you could never make me feel like I can do better because every day I thank my lucky stars that we're together and that you feel the same love I feel for you", you cupped his face, "you deserve so much, Lando Norris, and I'll work everyday to prove you that you're worthy of love and care and that things going on here are sometimes a lie", you kissed his forehead.

"I don't deserve having you, I yelled at you for no reason", Lando mumbled.

"There was a reason, and it would take me a lot more than you yelling at me when you're stressed and worried, but I'd also like to know whatever is happening when it is happening so I can help, or we can seek out professional help too", you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.

No one had ever fought for him like this. He's used to be the one to prove to people that they belong in his life and that's he's all in, not the other way around since, once every time his partners start to feel like it's too much once the honeymoon phase fades out and regular, day-to-day troubles show up notice it getting serious, they flee.

"We'll do this together, lovie", Lando muttered against your lips as he looked into your eyes, "I'm sorry I doubted you when in reality you are the one who's always stuck with me", he smiled, kissing your lips.

[alotofpockets]

Travel day | Arsenal WFC

Pairing: Arsenal x Teen!Reader & Kyra Cooney-Cross x Best friend!Reader

Summary: A travel day with Arsenal, where you and Kyra can't seem to sit still. [requested]

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

Ever since you had joined Arsenal at seventeen, you were deemed the child of the group. All of your teammates were immensely protective over you. Leah was the most protective, she had let you move into her apartment, the captain not wanting you to stay somewhere on your own. At first the overly protectiveness was a bit annoying but once you realised that they all meant it well, you started to enjoy the way the team had taken you in as their family member. 

When Kyra had joined the team a year later, you were grateful for another youngling on the team. The girl had quickly gotten the “annoying little sister” status, and it was to no surprise to the team that the two of you got along great right away. 

Today was a travelling day for the team, you were heading overseas for a day of training, and a match the day after. You walk into the living room with your suitcase, kit bag, and your backpack, plopping them all down next to where Leah had put hers. “Hey kiddo, got everything packed?” You nod and sit down on the couch. “Socks, pyjamas, and a charger too?” You get up and walk towards her, handing her the checked off packing list. “I packed everything you wrote down for me.” She looks over the list, and is pleased with all the check marks she sees on the paper. “Alright then, Lia will be here shortly to pick us up. Oh, before I forget. I made you some sandwiches, you can put them in your backpack.” 

You take the sandwiches from Leah, “Lee, what am I supposed to do with this many ham sandwiches? It’s like a two hour flight max.” You laugh at the girl but put them in your backpack anyways. “You can share with Kyra, as I am guessing that the two of you will use up enough energy to need those later.” 

A couple minutes later, Lia arrives to pick the both of you up. “Hey kid, ready for today?” Lia asks as she gives you a quick hug. “Yeah, I’m excited.” With your luggage in the car, Lia drives the three of you to Colney where the team would meet up to head to the airport together. 

When you arrive at the airport, and have checked in your baggage and gone through costumes, you arrive at the gate. You drop your backpack to the floor where Leah sits down, and rush off to find Kyra again. When the girl notices you, she dropped her own bag next to Katie, and started running away from you. You sprint after her, chasing her around the gate.

The team watches the two of you run around amused, wincing when you’d nearly miss other airport goers. “Should we stop them?” Katie says to Leah, when you finally manage to catch up to Kyra, and tackle her to the ground. “I say let them tire themselves out, so we have a peaceful flight.” She said the last part as a joke, but seeing the amount of energy the two of you had at the moment, it was best to let some of it out now. 

They let you run around, and go back to their own conversations. Occasionally someone films the two of you, many of the clips either ending up on their Instagram stories or on their Tiktok’s. You had no clue about any of it though, as you were having the time of your life running with Kyra. 

You were grateful for the sandwiches that Leah made for you, when your stomach started growling. Grabbing both yours and Kyra’s backpack, you head back to her. She was sitting by the window, watching the planes move around in the distance. Like Leah had suggested, you shared the sandwiches with Kyra, getting through quite a few of them until Kyra pulled a ball from her backpack, with a sly smile on her face. 

The two of you start kicking the ball back and forth for a bit, before you start to do keep ups together, trying to not let the ball hit the ground. That’s when Katie steps in, and grabs the ball from midair, “Where did you even get a ball?” The older woman asks. “From Kyra’s backpack.” You say in defence, raising your hands up in surrender. Kyra rolls her eyes at how quickly you threw her under the bus, but she would’ve done the same thing if it would have been Leah that stepped in. Katie takes the ball with her, as she sits back down next to Caitlin. “Kids.” She shakes her head, but looks in your direction with a smile.

Once the plane had taken off, it didn’t take long for both you and Kyra to fall asleep.

-----

leahwilliamsonn just posted to their story

-----

Only to be full of energy again as the both of you woke up when the plane landed. You were bouncing your legs up and down, waiting to be able to get off the plane. There was no time for you to let out your energy now, as you went straight to baggage claim and onto the bus that was waiting to get you to the stadium you would be playing in a couple of days. 

However, the moment that you set foot onto the field, you were back to running around on the field with Kyra in tow. Occasionally either one of you would be taken aside to take a picture with some of your teammates, but you always found each other again. 

Once Kyra was taken aside by Alessia for a picture, you ran over to Leah. The girl welcomed you with open arms, “Hi kiddo, having fun so far?” You step into her arms, and hug her tight. “Yes, I can’t wait to play here.” You stay in her arms with your head leaned against her chest.

Kyra walked back up to you with a ball in hand. You look up to Leah, “Yeah, go on. Have fun.” And with that you made your way onto the field with Kyra, finishing the game of keep ups that was interrupted in the airport.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura

Summary: This was supposed to be a Rhysand x Reader Calanmai One Shot and boy oh boy did it spiral into a whole, multi chapter AU fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ It’s now a what if Rhys’s mate was someone other than Feyre and they both end up Under the Mountain together fic

Content Warnings: Eventual Smut, Some Suggestiveness because Rhys is here, I mean look at him everyone wants that male; canon typical violence, UTM. Each chapter will have listed content warnings.

Part Two is here

————————————————————————-

“Stay inside, away from the windows. Make sure the doors are locked.” It’s the same speech every year, the same frantic, worried rant about staying away from those types of parties and the trouble they could bring. Never mind that you’re an adult, have been for awhile, and are perfectly capable of making the decision on your own and had decided years ago that Calanmai wasn’t really your scene. A party in a library sure, but an outdoor orgy in what was basically the High Lord of Spring’s backyard was about as opposite of you as you could get.

“I’ll be in the attic, organizing my books,” you swear and your uncle’s graying head bobs with a heavy sigh of relief as he shuts the door. Some of the livestock have gone missing--most likely the result of several visiting fae whose scene definitely is Calanmai--but he couldn’t make complaints to the High Lord until he was sure they hadn’t simply wandered out of the padlock on their own. He’s taking all three of the farmhands with him, leaving you alone in the house.

It would be a blissful couple of days. The house quiet. You plan to make tea and practice the new bread recipe you’d found tucked into one of your carefully preserved books from two centuries before. You’ve accumulated quite a collection of things in the years of your uncle’s ceaseless wandering. He’s never stayed anywhere long.

If you could focus on it, that is.

Calanmai might have never been your scene, but it did something to you every year you couldn’t explain. It had started a couple years ago; a strange whispering on the wind at first, a voice begging you to “Come. Come and see.”  The next year, after being ignored the voice had come with phantom drum beats, an echo of the ones that would sometimes crest the hill between your farmhouse and the High Lord’s estate; the voice more urgent, the drum beats like a pulse in your skull. The following year the visions started. You’d go to sleep and find yourself drifting through the air, wings beating above you, shadowy hands holding you as you flew over the bonfires and beating drums, bodies writhing and merging beneath you, before depositing you in the darkness of what you could only describe as some sort of ancient cave. When you’d woken up you found yourself half way up the hill in your sleep clothes, unsure of how you’d even gotten out of the house. You’d never mentioned it to your uncle, he was prone to worry, but it was becoming clearer and clearer every year that there was something out there that wanted you out on Calanmai. True to form, you’d started hearing the drum beats upon waking this morning, their beat a steady pulse in your temples.

Still, whatever beckons, you're not interested in meeting. You’d seen a couple priestesses and gotten a sleeping tonic that would knock you out for the night, all you needed to do was pass the time until nightfall, take the tonic, and in the morning, all would be right again. Never mind the ache in your chest you’d feel in the morning, the blaring loss a living thing in your soul, as if your decision to stay away had torn something apart in you. It was a manageable wound, for your family’s sake. Memories of your parents had been hazy at best, it had always just been you and your mother’s brother. He’d said something had happened in your home court, that he’d had no other choice but to take you and run, never any other details. Your powers were a strange, unmanageable thing that prowled beneath your skin, a restless beast you couldn’t tie to any court to try and figure out where you’d come from. They weren’t seasonal, not ice or flame or wind; you’d imagined as a kid you’d gotten them in the Night Court, the darkness that sometimes sparked from your fingertips unruly enough to make it plausible, but there was nothing definitive. And your parents, for all the good things your uncle said about his sister, had never tried to find you, leaving all questions unanswered. Left you alone with your uncle and your constant moving with his job. He worked hard to make a life for the two of you, you owed it to him to not cause any trouble, to stay inside and cook and read and help him with his trading business as best you could. Whatever it was out there that beckoned, it was not worth seeing the pain on your uncle’s face. He’d escaped something, that much was clear, you would not damn him to something else, even for your own peace of mind.

This year feels different though, and you can’t deny it. The voice more urgent, the drum beats louder. You find yourself rubbing your temples, a headache building, as you try and fail to read the recipe in your hands. The words blur, a swirl of indistinguishable colors and shapes. You pinch you eyes closed, shake your head as if to clear the voice, trying again and again to make the words make sense, but the drums won’t stop beating.

You hurl the book across the room, knocking a picture off the wall, glass shattering on impact.

“Leave me alone!” You hiss at no one, teeth bared. Talons form at your fingertips, dark shadows whispering over your skin.

“Come. Come and see,” begs the voice.

You draw a breath, then another, and another until the shadows disappear and the talons retract. If you blow the roof off the house, like last time, you’ll have to move again. Beyond your uncle’s disappointment there’s the issue of… her. The war bands, the bogge, the Attor, always a threat looming over your travels, pushing you further and further away from busy cities, all enough on their own, but the Blight adds another layer. Your Uncle said the war she helped wage against the humans was devastating, but the one she could bring here? Sometimes you wonder if she’s the reason you move so much, as if your uncle has been trying in vain all these years to escape the war path closing in on Prythian. He’d never dare delve into the Human Lands, but Spring is one of the few places she has yet to ravish. You can’t risk another move.

You focus on controlling your breathing as you sweep up the glass, and leave the picture of you and your uncle on the table. You’ll find a new frame tomorrow, for today, it’s best if you take that sleeping tonic and avoid any further outbursts.

You make quick work of double checking the locks before changing into your sleep clothes and climbing into bed. It’s only just starting to get dark, the last few rays of sunlight fighting to break through your worn curtains. The priestesses didn’t mention how long it would take to work, or how long it would last, but the drums are still so loud, and the voice won’t stop pleading. It’s a nice voice, if your honest, but you can’t go out there. You won’t.

The vial in your hand is cold, the glass pitted like it’s been used before, it’s contents a bright blue color that glitters even in the darkness. You down it in one gulp, the taste like bursting, overripe fruit. The effects are immediate, you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillows.

  The house is strange, twisted; the wooden walls thorny, gnarled like old tree trunks, the wind howling through the gaps of what used to be the windows. Fire light flickers through the gaps, casting shadows across the space as you stumble from the bed, bare legs caught in sheets suddenly made of vines.

It’s wrong, all wrong.

You stumble on legs that don’t quite work right down the stairs, slashing yours hands open on the thorns that had sprouted out of the railing alongside dark, night blooming flowers.

“Come. Come and see.”

The flowers bloom at the sound of the voice, the violets petals glowing in the darkness, leading you like wisps out the front door, now covered in vines and leaves. Disoriented, you follow the flowers out into the night, the stars dazzlingly bright overhead.

The world outside is not the one you know, the rolling hills now scorched and burned, the trees gnarled and twisted. Dark shapes with glowing eyes sit on the dying branches, starring only at you, some growling, others hissing.

There’s a single line of flowers, twisting away from the leering eyes and you race after them.

“Come. Come and see.”

You’re running before you know it, scooping up flowers as you go.

Something behind you still growls, it’s footsteps rattling the ground behind you. No matter where you look, you can’t see it, like it’s wholly veiled in the darkness. It has your heart pounding in your chest, the beat steady like drums. You push yourself faster, following the flowers over the ruined hills.

The flowers lead you into another wooded area, the trees still barely clinging to life here, their fallen leaves crunching under your bare feet. Branches tug at your shift, tearing the thin materiel, clawing at your exposed legs. Still, the thing behind you prowls closer, it’s breath hot as flame as it chases you.

The flowers wind around trees, deeper, deeper, into the dark, the only light the stars and the flowers; it’s your only chance at escaping. You push, going as fast as your legs can carry you, the drum beats of your heart still echoing in your ears. Soon enough the flowers direct you in a straight line, directly into the mouth of a cave. It feels wrong, going into a cave with some sort of beast snapping on your heels but what other choice do you have?

You reach the mouth of the cave, hand brushing the rough rock, gasping for breath. The darkness beyond beckons, “Come. Come and see,” but there are no flowers here. No stars to light the way, only the darkness of night and shadows.

The thing beyond you roars in challenge as you set one foot in…

You jerk awake like your soul is coming back into your body.

Maybe it is, because you’re not in your bed. There’s half a dozen cuts across your bare legs, staining the bottom of your torn shift, mud splattered across your legs. It feels like you’re wading through soup as you assess yourself, your mind muddled, unable to process where you got the glowing, violet flower in your hands. When you finally have the presence of mind to look up, you are in fact starring at the cavernous mouth of a cave you’ve never seen before.

Somewhere in the distance, the drums pound. Firelight dances among the treeline behind you. You’d gotten outside. On Calanmai. The tonic not only failed, it had left you so horribly vulnerable and queasy you were shaking. You need to get back home, back inside where it’s safe.

From somewhere in the shadows of the trees not far from you, a voice says, “I’m pretty sure I saw her go this way!”

Ice shoots through your veins, feet freezing in place.

The flower seems to warm in your hands, as if reminding you it was there, of the dream that had brought you here. You glance at the cave, the darkness beckoning. It might be a safe place to hide, if those voices are in fact looking for you. They are clearly male, and a few of them at that, and alone in a shift on Calanmai…

The cave might be a terrible spot, you’re pretty sure you had heard something about High Lords and caves, specifically on Calanmai, but the drowsy effect of the tonic has not entirely worn off, and with the voice drawing closer you don’t have time to try and remember what it was.

You step into the darkness, praying it isn’t the worst mistake of your life, and the darkness envelopes you like a caress. It’s almost as if it… moves, shadows and night itself twining around your legs, your arms, brushing along your spine with feather light touches. As if darkness is acquainting itself with the feel of you. You shiver, nervous, but the touch is not unwelcome.

Voices sound outside, but they are muffled, veiled.

Another step, then another, the flower still clutched in your hand blooms, glowing a little brighter. The scent of jasmine and citrus flows from it, fills all your senses.

The cave descends, the ground sloping a bit, and then you have to duck to follow the worn path. There should be loose rock along the path, but it is smooth, like sand beneath your bare feet, like someone had come along and swept out the debris. There’s nothing there to hinder your progress towards what you can only assume is the heart of the cave.

Perhaps this is all a part of your strange dream, that would certainly explain the flower, but what other choice do you have no but to keep going? From behind you, those voices from the woods sound again, as if they have stepped into the cave too.

“You’re sure she came in here?”

“Where else would she go out here?”

“Do you think Mistress will let us have a little fun before she gets her hands on her?”

Its that that makes you freeze, all thought eddying from your head.

The flower shrinks in your hand, the light dimming, even as the darkness of the cave twines itself around you, the caress like a cat rubbing against your legs, as if it’s trying to soothe you, calm you. You can’t move.

The sudden shift in the air of the cave is palpable. Goosebumps raise on your arms as the temperature drops, as the darkness deepens.

“What the fuck?” One of the men hisses.

And then the screaming starts, the blood curdling cries rattling the walls.

Still you can’t move, can’t see, can only stand there in the company of the shadow still rubbing soothing circles into your back while the earth trembles and dust rains down from the cave roof.

Just as quickly as the screaming starts, it stops, the only sound know the subtle drip of something wet hitting the floor. Your senses are sharp enough for you to scent the cooper tint of blood in the air, but even your keen senses can’t pick up what caused it. You can’t hear anything either, no footsteps, no fighting. It’s over.

You exhale a shaky breath, hands still trembling around the flower. Until it suddenly dies, the petals falling from your cupped hands. You’re strangely attached to it now, hands scrambling to catch the petals in the dark when that same glow appears around the bend in the cave.

Another flower, a way out!

You step towards it, not stopping to ask yourself why this one is smaller, so far away from the ground. Its not until you’re nearly upon it, nearly slamming into it, that you realize it’s not a flower at all. It doesn’t truly click into place until a firm set of hands grabs hold of you, stopping you from slamming right into the owner of that glowing set of violet eyes.

You might have screamed, were it not for the voice that says, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

The world tilts before you as it clicks into place that you know that voice. It’s the one that called you out here.

[partycatty]

So ive been obsesed with janet cage since she appeared in the end of mk1 and now shes finally being released with peacemaker and im desperate for something ANYTHING PLEASE 🙏 😭

YOURE SO ME FR I LOVE JANET SO MUCH GENUINELY i need her so bad she's my pfp and banner on discord rn HAHA thank you for sharing your thoughts bc i was so afraid i was alone HEHE

janet cage > this one's for you, baby!

janet's got a wittle crush on the reader, and will go to stupid lengths to show herself off

notes: you're in the genderbent universe :3 but because i'm stupid, the chosen ones' names are gonna remain the same because i couldn't think of a genderswapped name for them and wasn't about to do them dirty with new names LMAO

[ masterlist ]

it was only a couple months into training, and things were looking... decent? at least, you could consider yourself improving. sure, combat was something you trained in, but when it came to you versus whatever horrors outworld contained, you tugged at the collar of your shirt.

janet, however, seemed unfazed. actually, she seemed ecstatic! you'd seen a couple of her movies and knew she could kick ass if needed. her physique impressed you, as did her endless charm and effortless ability to piss the swordswoman off. her attitude was brushed off for your sake. you knew she had just gone through a messy divorce with her ex-wife, is in talks of selling her mega mansion, and new roles were coming up dry. you'd think she'd be bitter but it turned out to be quite the opposite. her typical swagger and flourished gestures tore you from your thoughts.

"there she is!" janet exclaims, swinging a toned arm around your shoulder and tugging you close to her side. "you miss me? i bet you did!" you recall the last time you interacted with her: lunch. twenty minutes ago. even still, her perky attitude flustered you quicker than you'd like to admit.

"suuure," you sarcastically reply, hoping to toy with her ego a bit. "as if i didn't see you at lunch."

"it's hard to not miss me when i'm not around," she sighs dramatically, as if she has the hard life. "no need to lie to me, babe. you love having me around." your insides twist at the name. as you eyes are downcast, janet's eyes light up more than usual with a slight blush to her cheeks.

"whatever you wanna believe, miss A-List," you swat her arm, and she removes it though her grin remains unfaltered. janet pauses for a moment, lifting her sunglasses from her eyes and settling them on top of her head. you're winded by her beauty. you had seen it on screen as mentioned before, but there was some alluring power of her eyes when they were only a couple feet from your face. janet could kick ass, but she was also a gorgeous actress.

"tell you what," she shoots a single finger gun at you, once again removing you from your daydreams full of her face... among other things. "you won't have to miss me tonight. raiden and i planned to spar after dinner. you'll watch me kick her ass, right?" there was a hint of pleading, almost nervousness in her gaze. as if she needed you to say yes. her brows knitted together for only a single twitch.

"don't sweat," you reassure her, taking her strong hands in yours with a soft smile. "i'll be your cheerleader." with your confirmation, you turn on your heel and head the other direction to tend to your own duties. what you don't notice, however, is janet whooping to herself as soon as your back is turned.

just as the sun hits golden hour, you and the girls are waiting by the sparring ring. raiden stands straight, hands behind her back as she waits for her opponent to arrive. and so she does. janet comes jogging into view, waving at the crowd of monks and earthrealmers. she waves and smiles, blowing kisses to an unamused audience. she acts like it's another one of her performances. liu kang rolls her eyes.

"i bet your chakram hat that janet gets her ass kicked," you mutter to kung lao, who stood beside you with a smirk. she nudges your shoulder.

"aren't you supposed to be on janet's side?" kung lao mumbles back with a knowing grin. when you return with a perplexed frown, she scoffs. "everyone and their mother could figure out you're into her."

your cheeks puff up out of frustration, ready to rip kung lao a new one for being so loud and direct, but you see a hand snap in your face. snapping your neck to the source, you meet your eyes with janet's, who was leaning down to catch your attention.

"hey hey, eyes on me, sweet thing," her voice feels like honey when it drops low, and you snap back to her attention with a dazed look in your eye. your heel drives into kung lao's foot when you hear her snicker. "atta girl, check this out." a part of you dies inside from embarrassment. damn her and her confidence.

the spar begins, and admittedly it's evenly matched. punches are matched with kicks, parries and dodges slightly rile the crowd up from how equal the combat is. while raiden is calculated, janet is quick, and it becomes apparent that janet actually has a good chance.

that is, until she successfully knocks raiden to the ground. she's doubled over in pain, trying to prop herself up enough to come back from the near-knockout. janet winds up a fist almost comically, winding it in circles with a grin. just before she lands the blow, she turns to you with a beaming, cocky grin.

"this one's for you, baby!" janet shouts out, pulling her sunglasses down with her other hand to wink. before you could even consider being flattered, raiden flips up and shifts her weight, readying a godlike kick.

WHAM!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

janet sits awkwardly on the cot, fidgeting with the now broken pair of sunglasses in her hands. she can't seem to bring herself to focus on you, even as you're leaning into her to wipe her wounds.

"you should have been more careful," you gently scold her, holding her face up by her chin to wipe the dried blood on her nose. "i don't need the whole show to be impressed, janet."

she smiles lazily, eyelashes fluttering as she inspects your features. "did i at least look hot getting my nose broken?"

you want to sigh and scold her further, but you decided to indulge in her entertainment and smile back, and janet visibly tenses up at your warm stare.

"very."

her lazy smile turns into a lopsided grin as she realizes you're calling her hot. not that her ego needed it really, she knew she was hot. but you saying of it all people, dear lord she was reeling. although she was an actress, a damn good one, you could see she was visibly straining herself from losing it. so, considering you had the upper hand, you hold her face by her cheeks and squish gently with a teasing smile.

"you're blushing."

janet frowns dubiously. "am not."

"i can see it. you're blushing." your eyes flicker between hers, and then to her lips briefly. she sucks them in, focusing on your own lips with dazed eyes.

perhaps janet could use another lesson, you think. so, instead of indulging in what you both want, you let go of her face and place the bloodied rag in a discard bin, wiping your hands on your thighs. janet freezes with a pleading look, knowing exactly what you're doing. you're playing a sick game of cat and mouse.

"where are...?" janet's voice trails off sheepishly, the hardest indicator that you've caught her off guard. she wants to stand up and follow you out, but the monks told her to stay, and a pounding migraine from the blow made sudden movement difficult.

"gotta fight for what you want, janet," you coo innocently, waving with your fingers before you exit the tent. "just don't get your ass kicked. maybe then i'll reward you."

you're not around long enough to see the steam spilling from her ears and her beet-red cheeks.

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match VIII

Pt. 1 Pt.9

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: It’s the day of the holiday party at your parent’s house…😱

No mature warning in this chapter.

Can’t believe I got another chapter out so fast! Pray that I keep up with this pace!🙏

I apologize for any grammar mistakes I missed!

Enjoy!🥰

Wc: 2.8k

———————————————————-

You scanned through the various clothes on the rack, trying to tone out the Christmas music playing over the speakers mixed with the various chatter of other people around you. You smiled when you spotted a beautiful spring dress you thought would be perfect for Gabi.

After buying it you walked over to the women's clothing where Stephanie was looking through skirts.

"Find anything cute?" You say as you look over the clothing rack.

"Sadly not." She pouted as she joined you on the other side as you both began to walk through the store.

"Do you have everything on your list?"

"One last thing. I've gotten everyone's gift. Just finished getting all of Miguel's and I just have one left for Gabi. It's this popular doll. It's from this new movie. This is the third store I've gone to to try and find it. I asked Miguel but he's had no luck either.

"You guys are such cute parents. I love it. Can't wait to earn the title Auntie Stephanie."

"Cute. I forgot to ask you this after the last barbecue, but did you tell Jack about me and Miguel? It's ok if you did, I know it's hard to keep secrets from someone your in a relationship with."

"Girl, I would never reveal a secret like that. Though Jack might be my boyfriend you are my bestie. But Jack did come to me and asked if I knew anything. He said he noticed the way Miguel looks at you. He said to me, 'he looks at her like she is the light of his life. The only person in the room.'"

"Do u think it's really noticeable to everyone?" You bit your lower lip as you give her a worried look.

"Nah, you know Jack is really good at reading people. You would know if everybody in the neighborhood knew." Stephanie chuckled.

"True." You chuckled along with her. "Miguel and I are going to say we're a couple at the holiday party tonight." You added. Your words made  Stephanie stop, grasping your forearm as she looked at you wide eyed.

"No way! I'm both nervous and excited for you. You think your parents will take it ok?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I know my mom would be thrilled that I'm in a serious relationship again. But i know she'll be upset that I lied plus I know my dad and her might not take it well since Miguel is closer in age to them than me. Now that I think about it. They're not going to take it well. What do you think?" You looked at Stephanie with hopeful eyes but they switch to worry when you saw her shake her head.

You arrive to the toy section of the store eyes widening when you see the vast amount of people grabbing things left and right.

"Shit. Ok. Steph, you know what I'm looking for, you go this way and I'll go the other. See you on the other end."

"If we make it out alive." Stephanie says before you split up.

You search almost every section from top to bottom. As you begin to lose hope you smile seeing at the end of the last aisle was the doll Gabi wanted. As you you were nearing the shelf two other people grabbed the last one at the same time. You huff in frustration as you knew you had no chance of getting it now.

"Omg is that Oprah in the shoe department?" Yelled Stephanie making the two people drop the toy and rush over followed by a few other victims who heard her. You chuckle as you pick up the toy from the ground. "My savior."

"That's what I'm here for." She gently bumped your shoulder with hers as you both laughed.

After you bought the toy you and Stephanie left the overly crowded store.

You headed back to your car, driving back to your neighborhood, saying goodbye to Stephanie as you dropped her off and Jack's apartment before you drove back to Miguel's house, parking your car in the garage. Surprisingly, no one has seen you park your car in Miguel's garage. If they have maybe they thought you were going to babysit Gabi, like you did at the beginning before your relationship with Miguel.

You entered the house as a smile lands on your face as you see Gabi running to you with her red holiday dress, with no socks and her hair all messy.

"Hi baby bug. What's happening here." You chuckle as you set your bags down as you kneel down to her height.

"Papa was helping me get dress for the holiday party at your parents house. But when I heard you come home I ran down to see you." You lift her up in your arms as you walk into the living room where you see Miguel in black dress pants and nice button up black shirt with a few buttons undone. On one side of his shoulders were Gabi's tiny socks and in one of his hands her shoes, so small compared to him.

"There's the little runaway princess and my beautiful queen." Miguel whispered the last part to you as he gave you a sweet kiss to your lips before you handed Gabi into his arms.

"No, I want y/n to help me get dress." Gabi pouted as she reached out back to you.

"But princesa, y/n needs to start getting ready." Miguel argued, but you smiled as you reached out and held her again. "It's ok. I'll help you finish putting your socks and shoes on."

"Can you do my hair in that pretty braid?"

"I think I have a good idea of what hairstyle I should do." You smile as you lead her upstairs to her bathroom followed by Miguel who went back to your bedroom to finish getting ready.

You sit her on her stool in front of the bathroom mirror as you help brush her hair. As you begin to style her hair by braiding some of her front parts before tying it in the back. You then grab your curling iron as you give her ends some curl plus some strands in the front. You then ask her to cover her eyes as you lightly put hair spray in her hair to keep its shape.

“All done.”

“Wow! I love it! Thank you.” Gabi smiles as you help her off the stool before having her sit on her bed in her room so you could help get her socks on.

When you finally were able to get her last shoe on Miguel knocked on the door frame. “How it going?” He smiled as he entered the room.

“She’s all ready and looks beautiful.” You smile at Gabi as she looks back at you with a bigger smile.

“You look lovely princesa. Now let’s let y/n get ready.” Said Miguel as his hand rested on your lower back.

“Wait, can I ask a question?” Asked Gabi.

“What is it Baby bug?” You brows furrow looking at Miguel, as he gave you the same expression when you both saw Gabi become nervous and shy.

“What’s wrong mija?” You and Miguel sat on both sides of Gabi to try and comfort her.

“When I was at the kid center when we went camping, I told all my friends that y/n was my mom.” Gabi looks at Miguel before looking at you as she hugs her face against you before she added, “Can I call you mom?” Though her voice was barely above a whisper both you and Miguel heard her as you both look at each other, eyes wide.

Your heart swelled so big that it was hard for you to not shed a few tears. You look back to Miguel who gives you a wide loving smile. Maybe it was your imagination but you saw his eyes become glossy as if he was trying hard to hide his tears.

“Gabi, I would be honored if you called me mom. I’ve always loved you as my daughter. My little baby bug. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.” You smiled as you wiped away a tear.

“Yay! I love you Mama.” Gabi hugged you again beyond happy.

“I love you too Sweetheart.” You hug her back.

After letting you hug her a bit longer Miguel speaks, “Let’s let Mama get dressed now for the party, Gabi.” Both you and Miguel’s smiles widen when he said it.

“Kk.” Gabi let go of you as you and Miguel walked out of her room and to your shared bedroom.

When you both entered Miguel picked you up as he twirled you around before holding the back of your head as he passionately captured your lips with his. When your lips parted he placed his forehead against yours as you both couldn’t stop smiling.

“I love so much Mamita.” Miguel said as he kissed away your joyous tears before kissing you one more time on the lips.

“I love you so much too Papi.” You say which Miguel’s eyes widen slightly, your smile widening as you see his cheeks slightly turn red before you looked at his eyes, clouded with lust.

As the door was already closed Miguel picked you up and tossed you on to the bed, as you let out joyous giggle as he got on top you fluttering you with butterfly kisses across your face and neck.

After taking a bit longer from your quick rendezvous with Miguel you were finally ready as you head downstairs where Miguel sat on the couch as he watched Gabi draw with her crayons on the table. As you walked down the stairs Miguel looked up as he stood up and joined you at the bottom of the steps, pulling you against him.

“Wow, Mama you look so beautiful!” Gabi said as she got up from her table and ran over to you.

“She does look really beautiful.” Said Miguel as he leaned down and kissed your cheek, knowing your red lipstick would rub on to his lips, not that either of you’d mind if it weren’t for the event your were going to.

You took a deep breath as you try to calm you rising nerves about tonight. Miguel noticed right away as he took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before kissing your knuckles.

“Everything will be ok tonight. No matter the reaction, always remember the home that loves you the most.” Miguel said as you looked at him before looking at Gabi gazing up at you with a big smile. You look back up to him as you take in a another deep breath before saying, “you’re right. I guess I should head over. I’ll see you both in a bit.” You leave Miguel’s hold as you blow them both a kiss before leaving the house and walking over to your parents.

Back in Miguel’s house:

“Papa, why aren’t we going with Mama?” Asked Gabi as she sat back in her place at the living room table coloring.

“You remember that Mama and Papa’s relationship is a secret, because we don’t know how others will react when they find out?”

“Yeah.”

“Well Mama is going over there to help her parents with set up for the party and make sure they are happy as Mama and I are going to tell them later tonight that we are together.”

“Yay!”

Back to you at your parent’s house:

You open the door to your parents house, embraced with the various smells of food.

“Y/n?” Yelled your mom from the kitchen.

“Yes, it’s me.” You say as you hang up your coat before walking into the kitchen to see your brothers, dad, Stephanie and your mom all helping out with food preparation.

“Hi honey. You look gorgeous!” Said your mother as she set down the spoon she was stirring in the pot before coming over to hug you.

“Hey mom, thanks. Sorry I was a bit late. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Everything is pretty much done but you can help bring the good to the dining room table.” Said your father as he finished preparing the salad.

“Ok cool.” You say as you grab a dish and bring it to the dinning room. Everyone from the kitchen followed, bringing a dish with them.

“Hey, Mom, dad?” They both look at you with a smile, waiting for you to continue. “I wanted to ask what you both thought if I was in a relationship…” you pause as you glance at Stephanie and Jack and then to Liam who was the only one who sent you a confused look. Getting the hint the couple walked back to the kitchen, Liam lagging behind wanting to know your conversation before Stephanie came back rolled her eyes as she tugged Liam out of the room by his arm.

“As I was saying, what would you guys think if I said I was in a new relationship?”

“That would be marvelous sweetheart!” Said your mother.

“Of course we would be happy for you.” Added your father.

“Would your thoughts change if I said he was slightly older than me?”

“Of course our thoughts wouldn’t change. Its always better to date a mature man.” Said your mother as your father nodded in agreement.

You smiled relieved to here their approval. Well, at least for the first part of the plan you and Miguel came up with this morning in bed for how you both were going to tell your parents of your relationship.

“How long has this relationship with this new guy been going on for?” Asked your father.

“Four and half to about 5 months.” Not including the weekend together two years ago. You left that part out.

“Right after your break up with Tyler? That’s fast sweetie.” Said your mother.

“Well, a rebound after Tyler turned into a date, then a bunch more before we became official.” You slightly lied, knowing full well sex with Miguel that night 5 months ago wasn’t a rebound after breaking up with your ex, but a night where you and Miguel were finally able to show the person you care for how much you love them.

“Oh, I see. That’s nice.” Said your mother with a small smile before returning back to the kitchen. You internally winced when you saw her reaction to your response.

Luckily your parents couldn’t push further as neighbors started to enter your the house for the holiday party.

After there was quite a few people throughout the house, making it busy Miguel walked in with Gabi.

Your parents headed over to greet the O’Hara’s as you tagged along.

“Hey Miguel. How’ve you been man? Haven’t seen you around much lately.” Said your father ash he greeted Miguel with a very light slap to his back.

“Just been extremely busy at work lately.”

“I’m hoping y/n as been able to help you.” Said your mom as she greeted Miguel with a welcoming hug.

“Yeah, she has.” Miguel looked at you as you both tried to not laugh from your mother’s oblivious words.

You and Miguel gave each other a greeting hug, still trying to make sure to not look too familiar with each other.

“Hi Gabi.” You say as you kneel down to hug her as she happily returns it. “Hi Mama.” Gabi whispered so only you could hear as she tried to hide her giggle. You smiled down at her as you brushed a stray strand of her hair from her face, secretly telling her you heard her. You stand back to your full height as you, Miguel and your parents begin to catch up with each other as you and Miguel still stayed pretending that you didn’t live with each other, and didn’t know what the other had been doing.

Watching from the corner of the room were the same brown eyes as before, glaring between you and Miguel and then down to Gabi as you helped fix her hair again. The stranger took a sip of their drink before setting it down on a side table before making their way over to you two as you were conversing with your parents.

"Long time no see, Miguel."

You, your parents, and Miguel look to the woman standing before you. Your brows furrow as you glance up at Miguel to see his eyes widen.

"Sofia? What are you doing here?"

The woman leaned down as she looked at Gabi who tucked herself between you and Miguel.

Sofia looked back up at you and Miguel, smirking before her eyes went back to Gabi. "Well obviously, I've come to see my precious daughter."

"Miguel?" You look at him as he returns your gaze before looking back at the woman with a glare.

"This is Sofia Grassi." Miguel looks at you and your parents before gazing down at his daughter who looks up at him then back at the strange woman,

"Gabi, this is your mother."

————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Tag List

@felixthemochicat @pedr0swh0r3 @thel0velykey190 @myownsimp @angel-xx-1 @thedevax @cheezit-luv3rr @comicalbliss @rjreins @incustellar @ricekrisbris @marvelofcourse @ozzmodeus-main @s0fia4 @ghost-lantern @minalovesubabes @yume904 @shinyberry69 @freehentai @livytofine @rjasmine2021 @bigbassbug @tired-writer04 @brokvnszn @isastarall @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @cold-blooded-girls @ewan-tef @bammzyboomy @icedcoffeeisyummy @scaleniusrm @jojos-wife @jakelockleysdoll @iheartlindsay @koteri @montyrokz @crimsonriot06-7 @p1nkliquor @pueduricany @l3laze @freeingrebels @facelessfionna @zoey5252 @jaxyy219 @pookiesnatcher @deputy-videogamer @migueloharastruelove @gr0vndz3ro @n1tingal3 @casuallyawkardd @heubstr @kingtwhiddleston

[nevertheless-moving]

Hesina Willshaper AU

Step one canon divergence: Amaram's army doesn't do the kind thing. Kaladin's listed next of kin are sent a letter stiffly informing them that their son is a deserter and, thanks to the highmarshall's mercy, has been sold into slavery.

Step two canon divergence: a light spren has started following Hesina around.

The letter reaches hearthstone.

Hesina cries the bones of the first ideal through labor pangs. Their wretched diamond lamp grows slightly dimmer during childbirth.

Hesina and Lirin discuss if there's anyway they could possibly find their son and pay his slave debt. They're not optimistic.

Hesina talks with her lightspren.

Lirin and Hesina talk again about trying to find their son, now that Oroden is starting to be weaned.

Hesina appears to have grown taller. No one but the two of them seem to be aware but they're worried other future changes might be more noticeable.

Hesina and Lirin realize that she can mold rock as if it was clay with stormlight. A spark of hope for freeing their son emerges.

The two leave town.

They find a slave market in the nearest city. They see other parent's sons, but not their own.

Hesina swears to free those in bondage. Stormlight starts coming easier.

They make a tunnel. Rebellion follows. Lirin is horrified by the violence (the violence is not actually that bad all things considered. a couple guards dead. some bystanders frightened. Fair amount of property damage as they rob the military barracks food supply, steal every sphere that's not nailed down. and also steal the spheres that are nailed down. (Lirin won't admit it but the stealing from lamps part is kindof fun.)).

Many of those they freed flee. Some return to slavery willingly, scared of retribution. Many decide to follow the Radiant woman who has vowed to see others like them freed.

The group proceed to the next town. They find another slave market. They make a tunnel. There is more resistance than last time, clearly they were warned something might happened. Hesina kills a man.

Lirin is terrified by what his wife is becoming.

Hesina swears to shelter those without homes. The lightspren forms an unbreakable hammer, perfect for knocking crem free from buildings. And for knocking down men.

A now larger motley group seeks shelter in a mountain town razed in one of Alethkar's many skirmishes over the last decades. Hesina builds homes. Lirin begs her to stay here, to stop fighting before she goes to far down this path, not to go to war. The slaves they've freed are split, many wanting to stay, hide, some wanting to fight and free more, with a radiant at their head, there's a real chance to change things. Hesina lingers, practicing, spends some time falling in and out of shadesmar.

Lirin and Hesina separate.

Lirin stays with Oroden and the noncombatants. Hesina leads those who want to fight to another city, still trying to find their son, still trying to free everyone's children.

The town settles into a routine. Hesina and Lirin miss one another. This is the first time they've gone longer than two days without seeing each other in the last 25 years, and the two days was only when Lirin had to travel to where someone had overturned a cart on the road nearby and Hesina had to stay and watch the children, too young to travel. besides that, it had been every day. they keep turning to talk to each other.

While the army is gone, the free town is attacked by those trying to reclaim her property.

Hesina swims deliberately through shadesmar for the first time. reaches lirin just in time.

Lirin accepts that not fighting won't stop the violence. (It breaks him just a little bit)

Hesina shouts that one person's freedom ends where another's begins. She vows to fight against powers which would rather see their people in cages then homes. A thousand light spren rise up to grant her strength.

(yes I know she's moving fast through the oaths. but she's always been a thoughtful woman and she raised two children who asked difficult questions and now shes mother to another several hundred. honestly she had already worked through some of these concepts before they became actionable on such a grand scale.)

Lirin vows to support his wife through whatever trials the Almighty seems inclined to put her through.

The lightspren, who has started to get some memories back, remembers Oathgate Spren not terribly far from here by physical realm measurements, guarding a hidden human city

the stone remembers the way the radiants once traveled.

The path to a kingdom in the sky is slow — there are many cages to break on the way.

Kaladin doesn't know it right away, because people weren't exactly telling slaves about the freedom riots, but slave wagons start having harder and harder times reaching the shattered planes after him.

Someone mocks Lirin for having a wife so determined to pursue the masculine art of war. Lirin gets pissy and decides to show them by learning to read and write to help support the administrative side of his wife's kingdom wide asskicking.

The highprinces lead a fairly successful misinformation campaign about the slave riots, lots of accusations of rampant violence, the dregs of society lashing out, you can probably imagine

The ongoing rebellion is large enough that word trickles to the bridge crews, encouraging bridge four's hope for escaping, while also making it substantially more daunting, as the crews are even better guarded than canon.

Rumors of a female radiant swirl around. Most people assume it's a woman in shardplate with some sort of tunneling fabrial, which is still pretty crazy, but several major players Take Note

A very large and tired huddled mass of people reach Urithiru. there's just enough squires, and two new willshapers with their own oaths, to make tunnels through the shattered planes and reach the oathgate without being seen by the alethi armies

the parshendi army is another story, but some are willing to take a chance listening to the neshua kadal, and come with them.

The political implications of Dalinar freeing 1000 slaves is slightly more complex, especially considering the rebellions have been impacting Sadeas the hardest

About a week after being freed, Kaladin hires a spanreed intermediary to write home and find out if his hometown is alright (again, a lot of misinformation and rumors about the violence of the riots)

Is informed by Laral that his family left town looking for him shortly before the riots started, were presumed dead

Kaladin is under the impression that 1) his parents are dead because of him 2) the Rebellion is not the righteous fallback plan that he and the men were hoping it was.

Hesina has many reasons to go to the shattered planes. Nearest part of the trade network for food and necessary goods. Many slaves to be freed from there, and a part of her still hopes to find her son, even thought its been so long. Home of Alethkar's political leaders, the source of Alethkar's slavery.

I have spent. A LOT of time imagining many possible reunions between kaladin and his mom in my highly specific high oath hesenia au. She has a couple faces she could wear when visiting the planes. Brightlady. Radiant. Cagebreaker. Queen of Urithiru (not her real title, they're tentatively trying the Listener council model, but they know what the Alethi will understand). Even darkeyed mother, if she and Lirin approach slowly from a different direction. Honestly, pleased as I am with all of the above, a lot is flexible, the key here is kaladin going "MOM??" In some fashion One possible Reunion Here

Thank you @sorchasolas for conversation and the urithiru ideas and for leading me to actually write all this down <3

[bottlepiecemuses]

Let’s Be Honest He Appeals To Women A Different Way

People call Oda Oda sexist, but in my opinion focusing on his target demographic isn’t bad. Girls aren’t excluded but I think it’s good he’s not automatically pandering to them through romance because in my opinion if he did those elements would feel forced in this show. And I think unintentional pandering to your unintended audience tends to be better than when you intentionally do so and it could potentially turned off that segment. 

The most obvious attraction that women have to this series is the dilf hot males, especially the villains. Seriously, it’s really the most unintentional of pandeirng that Oda creates these types of villains and the female audience eats it up. While most shonen series focuses on hot young men, this series give attraction to old men as well and we female fans are eating it all up. 

And again the female characters, despite the criticisms of same character mold I do think when it comes down to it excluding romance has helped. Seriously, while on the surface level the latter three are attractive and used for fan service, Oda does his best to also flesh out their characters. For instance, Nami and Robin are different types of smart guys on the crew and are critical to helping Luffy on his journey by traveling safely through the world and knowing the secrets about the messages of the Poneglyphs. In my opinion, it makes them stand out to me because they serve more than fanservice but also as people who have their place in the story. They might not get as much fights, but they manage to be strong female characters in their own right. 

Another is Vivi who isn’t the strongest fighter but has the strongest spirit and has taken on evil organizations and now the government itself to stand up for what she believes is right. Vivi might not be an official member but she is in spirit a close secret ally of the crew and her presence really brought a great dynamic from the crew that makes them all still miss her being around. 

And finally Big Mom why is she on this list, because interesting enough Oda could have just made her a one dimensional fat fuck, but instead he made her a complex character even though she’s a villainess. And even though everything she’s gone through is not an excuse for her behavior, it still makes her a compelling character to read because again someone like her ended up this way because so many people wanted to use her and enable her worst qualities for their selfish ends. And in the end we have a woman who not only can’t emphasize with people and feels entitled to everything due to how she was taught to see the world. In my opinion Oda, didn’t have to do this but I am glad and it makes antagonists like her very happy to see. 

And again even though One Piece isn’t about romance, it really gives compelling canon couples some spotlight. Seriously, one of them is Capone and Chiffon, who you wouldn’t think make a wholesome couple but they do. He seriously showers this woman who was so abused by her mother for what her sister did and adores the son they have together. He even goes up against her brother who was going to kill her even though she pleaded to leave her. This guy really does love his wife and would anything for her like a real man would. And again in my opinion, lovey dovey romance is something Oda will never do but I admit I think any woman would want a man like Capone to stand up for her like that. And in my opinion, if you ever see a married couple in this franchise you will bet your ass that married couple will have something deep and lasting. With exceptions being Yassop and Big Mom herself. 

[suddencolds]

The Worst Timing | [1/?]

hello!! I've been wanting to write a longer h/c fic for awhile. This is the exposition/first installment to that (4.8k words).

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I've written for these two!

Summary: Yves invites Vincent to a wedding, in France, where the rest of his family will be in attendance. It's a very important wedding, so he's definitely not going to let anything—much less the flu—ruin it. (ft. fake dating, an international trip, downplaying illness, sharing a hotel room)

—

“A wedding,” Vincent repeats.

“Yes,” Yves says. “A wedding.”

It’s his cousin Aimee’s wedding—she’s four years older than he is. Back when he’d gone with his family back to France over the summers, she’d been one of the people he’d grown quickly to look up to—someone who knew the ins and outs, it seemed, to every stage of life he was in the process of stumbling through.

Yves has always been used to being looked up to—one of the natural consequences, perhaps, of being the eldest in his immediate family—and he likes to think that he’s good at giving off the impression that he has things figured out. But he’d grown close to Aimee at their family reunions precisely because she was everything he tried to be: strong-willed and resilient, self-sufficient even in the face of hardship.

Aimee’s getting married to Genevieve—someone who Yves has only met a couple times, but who manages to be one of the sweetest people he’s ever met. All in all, it’s a wedding he wouldn’t miss under any circumstances.

Leon, his brother, and Victoire, his sister, will be there, along with Aimee’s friends and the rest of his extended family. The problem is that Leon keeps in touch with Mikhail. Mikhail let slip that Yves has been seeing Vincent. Leon told Victoire, who told Aimee. And now Aimee is offering to pay for Vincent’s plane ticket to their wedding in France in the spring—a bit of a last minute arrangement, but she’d sounded so excited at the prospect that Yves was finally seeing someone new (“I’d love to meet him,” she’d said over the phone, “would it be too much to ask him to take a couple days off work? Oh my gosh, please give me his contact details, I’ll send him an invitation,” and she’d sounded so excited about it that he hadn’t had it in him to turn her down).

“It’s very last minute,” he says, “but my cousin’s getting married, and she really wants to meet you. It’ll be some time in early March, in Provence. She says she’ll pay for your flight, if you want to go, but you’d probably have to take a couple days off.”

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking at him. “And you want me to be there?”

“Of course I do,” Yves says. “I think it’s more a question of whether you want to be there.”

Vincent looks back at him, his expression carefully blank. “Are you sure you want to introduce me to your family? That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that you’d take lightly.”

“They want to meet you,” Yves says. “And I wouldn’t mind introducing you. I think they would really like you.”

“It would be a waste of your time,” Vincent says, quietly, “to introduce me as someone you’re serious about if we’re just planning to break things off.”

Yves is well aware of the fact. This arrangement with Vincent—the trust he places in Vincent; the practiced familiarity, the feigned intimacy—has an expiration date. The fact that he doesn’t know when the expiration date is doesn’t change the fact that it will, inevitably, end—when Erika gets the point, or fades from Yves’s life entirely; when Vincent finds someone he considers worthy of pursuing in actuality; when either of them become interested in dating again. Whatever it is that ends up ending things, Yves knows: what he has with Vincent right now is strictly temporary. 

Perhaps it would be disingenuous to lie to his family about who exactly Vincent is to him. But then again, Yves thinks it isn’t much worse than any other relationship, with all of its ups and downs, all its hopes and uncertainties. It’s not like he can ever guarantee that a relationship is certain to work out, no matter how serious he feels about it in the moment. So is there really any harm to introducing Vincent as his current partner—as someone he feels certain about now, but maybe not always—and to leave it at that?

“It’s not really going to be my day, in the first place,” Yves says. “My relationship status is more of a conversation starter than anything. And even if you go by the timeline we told Erika, we haven’t even been together for a year. I don’t think my family will think much of it other than, like, a small and noncommittal window into what I’ve been up to. So it’s really up to you.”

“I think it would be fun,” Vincent says, “though only if you’re sure about having me there.”

“Great. I’m sure,” Yves says. “Everyone will love you.” He does think it’s true. Something about Vincent tends to have that effect, he thinks.

—

The fact that he and Vincent are traveling together is not exactly a secret.

Vincent agrees it’s best shared on a need-to-know basis—they won’t be the ones to bring it up, but if someone asks about it, they’ll answer honestly. It would be more work, Yves thinks, to have to coordinate lies about this.

But he runs into trouble not even two weeks later.

“So you and Vincent are taking the week off,” Cara says to him carefully, over lunch.

“Yes,” Yves says.

“Any plans?”

“I’m actually flying to France,” Yves tells her, uncertain about whether or not he should mention Vincent’s involvement—if Vincent has talked to Cara about this already, there’s no point in hiding anything, but he should be careful with the information he discloses otherwise. “One of my cousins is getting married there.”

“Oh,” Cara says, all too knowingly. “What a coincidence. Vincent told me he’s also planning on going to France.”

“I… heard,” Yves says, slowly. “He’s told me as much.”

“I didn’t realize France was such a popular tourist destination for march,” Cara says, smiling at him. “I thought most people went over the summer.”

“You know what they say,” Yves says. “France’s beauty knows no seasons.” 

“You should ask Vincent which part of France he’s visiting,” Cara says, with a smirk. “Maybe you guys can book a hotel together.”

Yves is positive he’s being laughed at. “It’s the third largest country in Europe,” he says. “I’m sure the chance of us ending up in the same region is statistically very low.”

“I think Cara knows we’re fake dating,” he laments to Vincent later, in the break room. “I mean, the dating part, not the fake part.”

Vincent blinks at him. “Did you tell her?”

“No,” Yves says. He doesn’t think they’ve been that obvious about it. “I just told her I was going to France. She made some undue assumptions.”

“Oh,” Vincent says. “I told her I was attending a wedding there.”

An impromptu trip to France, over the same week at the tail end of busy season, to attend a wedding. Separately. Yves is starting to understand where Cara's suspicions might’ve come from.

“That would do it,” he says.

Perhaps they really need to coordinate what a need-to-know basis means. Cara is, thankfully, not the type of person to gossip, from what Yves has gathered, but if their coworkers know, that could complicate things. “I don’t think she’ll say anything,” he says. “But I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d assume.”

Vincent seems to consider this. “It’s fine,” he says. “Though it might prove troublesome when we decide to end things.”

“We can figure that out when it happens,” Yves says.  

At some point in the foreseeable future, everything will go back to how it’s always been. Yves had been fine on his own for a long time before he’d met Erika. He’s sure he’ll be prepared for it when it happens.

—

The entire drive to the airport feels surreal.

Mikhail drives them. They leave at the crack of dawn—4am, on the dot. Victoire’s in the passenger seat, dozing off, and Leon, Vincent, and Yves are crammed into the backseat. 

Yves sits in the middle—there’s not much leg room to go around in the first place, but he tries to take up as little space as possible, mostly for Vincent’s sake. He and Leon have been crammed into far smaller cars on far longer road trips.

Leon says, “This is the earliest in the morning I’ve ever third wheeled.”

Victoire, who has her eyes shut, says, “It’s very nice to meet you, Vincent.”

“Likewise,” Vincent says. 

“Yves has told us all about you,” Leon says.

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking. “What has he said about me?”

“Mostly that you’re super hot,” Leon says. Yves, who is in a perfect position to elbow him, elbows him for that.

“You make me sound so shallow,” Yves says.

“But also that you’re really good at your job,” Leon continues, patting Yves on the leg. “Did you know Yves likes people who he’s slightly intimidated by?”

“I never said that,” Yves says.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Mikhail says. 

“You guys are conspiring against me,” Yves says, and Vincent laughs. 

Leon launches into a series of questions—about how they met, about who asked who out first, about what it’s like at work, about what kinds of things Vincent does for fun.

“No wonder Yves is totally whipped,” Leon says, after Vincent finishes telling a story about how he’d given a presentation at a conference in place of his then-boss, who had—due to unforeseen flight delays—found out last minute that she wouldn’t have been able to make it on time. Yves hasn’t heard this story before, but it doesn’t surprise him that Vincent would be able to pull that sort of thing off, even with such paralyzingly short notice. “You’re exactly his type.”

Just great. If anyone could dig a nice, fitting grave for him over the span of one conversation, Yves thinks, it would be younger brother. 

“I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you over for dinner yet,” Victoire says, her eyes still closed. How much of this conversation she’s actually been awake for, Yves can’t say.

She makes Yves promise that, after their trip to France, Vincent will be over for dinner. (“Sure,” Vincent says. “Just tell me the date in advance. I’ll clear my schedule.” Yves will have to apologize to him after this—for some reason, Vincent has an uncanny talent for ending up invited to half the things Yves is personally involved in.)

Yves is awake enough to hold a conversation, but he finds himself yawning mid-sentence on more than a few occasions. Vincent doesn’t so much as yawn at all over the entirety of the car ride. Yves has no idea if he’s always up this early, or if he’s just naturally immune to tiredness—another signature of his good genetics, next to the fact that he looks like he’s just stepped out of a photoshoot, or the fact that he manages to look good in everything he wears. Some people just win the genetic lottery, Yves supposes.

For some reason, he finds he feels a little more tired than usual. Waking up early is never easy, but usually he’d be distinctly more alert by now. There’s a strange, uncharacteristic heaviness to his limbs—it’s the kind of grogginess he only experiences when he hasn’t been getting enough sleep for awhile.

It’s fine. They have an eight hour flight ahead of them—they’ll be flying into Marseille, and then being driven up to Provence, where the wedding will be taking place. He can catch up on sleep over the flight.

As they’re unloading the suitcases from the back trunk, Vincent says, “Your family’s nice.”

Yves laughs. “I’m relieved they haven’t scared you off yet. Sorry for the… well, interrogation, by the way.”

“I can tell you’re close to them,” Vincent says, a little more quietly.

When Yves looks over, something about Vincent’s smile looks almost wistful. Yves wonders, briefly, how well Vincent has kept up with his own family. If he’d ever been packed into the backseat of a small car, back when he’d lived in Korea; if over some long road trip, he’d ever had to come up with increasingly inventive ways to pass the time. If his relatives ever teased him, then, about the crushes he’d had when he was younger, or anything else. If the ocean that was suddenly between them came with another, less tangible kind of distance, the kind that even phone calls and international flights can never quite bridge.

Yves doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know how he’d go about asking if he wanted to know. How is it that sometimes, he feels like he knows so much about Vincent, but other times, he feels like he knows almost nothing at all?

—

Aimee has booked him a seat next to Vincent. 

They’re a few rows away from the others—I wanted to seat everyone together, Aimee had texted him a few weeks back, but when I was booking Vincent’s ticket, the seats up front were all sold out, so I just moved you so you’d be sitting next to him. 

Now, he watches as Vincent pushes his briefcase gingerly into the overhead compartment.

“You must not be new to flying,” he says.

Vincent nods. “I’m not.”

“Eight more hours,” Yves says, taking the middle seat so that Vincent doesn’t have to. “It’ll be over in no time, especially if you take a nap.”

“I have some work to get done,” Vincent says. “Only after the plane takes off, though.”

Right—no electronics larger than a cell phone until they’re 30,000 feet in the air. “I thought this was supposed to be your week off.”

“It is,” Vincent says. “I just want to make sure everything’s still in one piece by the time I get back.”

Yves has never quite been comfortable on planes. It’s not that he’s afraid of flying, or that the turbulence bothers him—it’s more just the cramped space, the noise, the anticipation, the discomfort—all of it compounds. It’s usually difficult to get to sleep, but he’s so tired right now that maybe this flight will be an exception.

There’s just one problem: whoever is in charge of the air conditioning in the airplane cabin really hates him. Compared to Provence, New York’s climate is generally more extreme—colder in the winters, hotter in the summers—so all he has on him right now is a thin jacket. It’d be perfectly reasonable attire in most situations, except for the fact that this airplane in particular is unusually frigid. It’s definitely cold enough to be distinctly uncomfortable, especially considering that he’s just sitting in place. Yves crosses his arms, suppressing a shiver.

“Do you think Aimee will be convinced?” Vincent asks.

“Convinced?”

“That we’re together.”

“I’m sure she has better things to do than play detective over the state of my relationships,” Yves says, with a laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s why you invited me,” Vincent says, “is it not?”

“Pardon?”

“To show the rest of your family that you’re not still hung up over Erika.”

“I invited you for a lot of reasons,” Yves says. “For one, you’re good company.”

“So are all your friends.”

“I thought we could both use a week off,” Yves adds. “It’s France, in the springtime. What could be better?”

Vincent says, “I need you to tell me what to do.”

“What?”

“Your cousin paid for my flight,” he lists, counting off his fingers. “Your family is paying for the hotel. Your best friend drove me to the airport.” He says these things as if he’s listing off all the ways in which he’s indebted to them. “It’d be easiest for both of us if you told me how to make a good impression. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

Yves blinks. “I don’t think you’d need my help to make a good impression.”

“You could’ve taken anyone with you, but you’re taking me,” Vincent presses. “There has to be something you need me for.”

If there was nothing, you wouldn’t have invited me. The sentiment hangs between them, unspoken. But Yves can see it in Vincent’s expression. 

“My favorite cousin is getting married,” Yves says, fervently. “To her fiancee—who is also super cool, by the way. My whole family is going to be there. Do you think I’d choose to endure an eight hour plane ride sitting next to someone I didn’t like?”

“Maybe,” Vincent says.

Yves shakes his head. “It’s true that my family wants to meet you. But if I didn’t want you to come to France with me, I could’ve come up with an excuse.”

He twists around in his seat so that he’s facing Vincent directly. Narrowly resists the urge to reach out and grab Vincent’s hand. “I like spending time with you. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t. You don’t have to do anything out of the ordinary—if you have fun on this trip, that’s more than enough.”

Vincent stares back at him, his eyes wide. 

Yves has a feeling he’s said too much. It isn’t Vincent’s fault for assuming this is all just for show, considering everything that’s come before. Part of it is, but another part of him just really wants Vincent to have fun—to take in the sights at the gorgeous venue Aimee’s sent him pictures of, to have a week off in one of the most picturesque countrysides in the world (Yves may be slightly biased, but still) and not have to think too hard about impressing everyone. 

“Is that… okay with you?” Yves asks.

“Yes,” Vincent says. “It’s just unexpected.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sorry if I misled you, or anything.”

“You didn’t.” This time, Vincent really does smile—a sly, quicksilver thing. “For the record, I am very excited to go to your cousin’s wedding.”

“Thank god,” Yves says. “That’s good. I was beginning to think I was holding you hostage.”

He leans back into his seat, suppressing another shiver. Something about the changing pressure in the airplane cabin is making his head start to ache. It’s probably the elevation. Perhaps he should try to sleep just so that he doesn’t have to sit for eight hours with a headache brewing.

He shuts his eyes and tries. It’s no use. He’s tired, and the cabin is quiet enough, but it’s too cold to get to sleep—it feels impossible to get comfortable like this.

So he picks up a novel he’d been meaning to get to—something suspenseful, to offset the monotony of the flight.

When the seatbelt sign flickers off, Vincent unclips his seatbelt so that he can retrieve his briefcase from one of the overhead compartments, and spends the next half hour paging through multiple documents and leaving notes in the margins at a dizzying pace. Yves slinks down lower into his seat, trying hard not to shiver. 

“Is it just me, or is it kind of cold in here?” 

Vincent frowns at him in a concerned way that seems to suggest that it really is just him. Then again, Vincent is unfazed by New York’s cold winters, so Yves isn’t sure he’s the best point of reference.

“Do you need my jacket?” he asks.

“No,” Yves says quickly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “If you’re certain.”

He turns his attention back to the screen, and Yves resigns himself to reading—or, more accurately, trying and failing to read. It’s mercilessly cold, and his head hurts enough to make focusing on any one thing an uncomfortable task. He gets through another couple chapters, finds himself rereading the same passage over and over again, and—finally, defeated—dog-ears the page and slides the book into the pocket attached to the seat in front of him.

The next time the flight attendants come around, Vincent says something to one of them Yves can’t quite make out. Yves asks for orange juice—it’s not supposed to be symbolic, or anything, but on the off-chance that this headache ends up being a precursor to something more unpleasant, he thinks it might be wise.

The flight attendant pours him the orange juice he’s asked for—no ice (right now, something ice cold is the last thing he needs)—and sets it down on the tray table in front of him. Yves stares down at it, blinking. He hasn’t eaten all day, but strangely, he doesn’t have much of an appetite.

He doesn’t register the flight attendant from before—the one Vincent talked to—is back until he hears Vincent’s quiet “thanks” to his left.

Something brushes against his arm.

He looks up. It’s one of those travel blankets they sometimes carry, neatly folded, though this flight hadn’t given them out to everyone at the start. They must be reserved—given only upon request, maybe. 

“You said you were cold,” Vincent—who’s holding out the blanket for him—says, by way of explanation.

Yves blinks at him. He’s about to reassure Vincent, instinctively, that it’s not that cold—that he would’ve been fine without the blanket, that Vincent didn’t have to go out of his way to ask for one.

But his head hurts. He hasn’t been warm all flight. To say that the blanket is a relief would be a massive understatement.

“Thanks,” he says, taking it. “This is perfect. I won’t be cold with this.”

He ends up wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, pulling it tightly around him—like a cloak, or like the jacket that he might have brought with him if he’d had the foresight to anticipate feeling this cold on a commercial flight.

It’s nice. He’s still a little cold, with the blanket, but it’s enough to keep him from openly shivering.

He should really try to get some sleep, he thinks. It’s going to be evening in France when they land. A seat away from him, the window shutters are pulled up, but he can see, from the crevices around the window, that it’s light out.

“I’m going to try to nap,” he tells Vincent. “But wake me up if I need anything—elbow me if you have to. I’m not usually a heavy sleeper.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “I’ll try not to wake you.”

“You can wake me whenever,” Yves says, muffling a yawn into his hand. “Don’t work too hard.”

Vincent smiles at him, the kind of smile that implies he thinks he’s working exactly as hard as he should be. “No promises.”

It’s not easy to get to sleep, despite his exhaustion. He lays there for a while, his eyes shut—it’s certainly warmer with the blanket, but for some reason, he feels strangely restless. Maybe it’s the adrenaline of being here, with his family, with Vincent—on the way to see one of the most important people in his life get married. Maybe it’s the cup of black coffee he’d downed this morning to be awake enough to help Mikhail navigate and, subsequently, awake enough to actually be useful at the airport.

In the end, he falls asleep to the static hum of the aircraft, to the sound of Vincent hammering away at his keyboard next to him, incessant and comforting.

—

Yves wakes to someone tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m up.”

“A ‘light sleeper,’ you said,” Vincent says. “We just landed.”

Yves says, “I’m wide awake.” The yawn that he hides behind one hand is apparently not subtle enough, because when Vincent looks away from him in favor of staring straight ahead, it looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

Vincent’s stowed away his laptop already—Yves hopes that’s a sign that he’s done with work for the duration of this trip, but more likely he just had to put it away for landing.

“How was the flight for you?” Yves says.

Vincent looks at him. “Uneventful,” he says, at last.

“Not enthralled by all the financial records you had to go through?”

“They were very enthralling. How was your nap?”

“Good,” Yves says, even though he doesn’t feel particularly rested. He’s just groggy, probably, and the headache is just as bad as it was, if not worse. He’s sure once he gets off the plane and gets some fresh air, he’ll feel much better. “I probably needed it.” His breath hitches, unexpectedly, he turns to the side, raising his arm to his face to shield the oncoming—

“hH-’IZscHH’iew!” 

The sneeze is loud, embarrassingly, and it scrapes unpleasantly against his throat, which feels… off.

“Bless you,” Vincent says, frowning. He looks more concerned than he has any right to be.

Yves flashes Vincent a distracted smile. “Thanks.”

Everything—from the moment they step off the plane—is exhaustingly hectic. 

The hotel in Provence is more than an hour away from the airport they’ve landed at. They have a bus to catch, which means that after they regroup with the others, it’s international customs, baggage claim, and then they’re headed, maneuvering multiple suitcases each, onto the bus. He sits next to Vincent, though on the aisle side, so that he can lean over and interject whenever Leon and Victoire say something that’s worth commenting on.

Other than that, he talks with Vincent, mostly—about Aimee, about how she’s been in his life for longer than he’s known how to write his name, back when his parents would take him back to France once or twice a year. (“She was practically an older sister to me,” he says, “except we never fought,” to which Vincent says, “You make it sound like not getting along is a requirement to be siblings,” to which Yves says, “It definitely is.”)

His parents flew into France yesterday, so they should be settled in already—they’ll catch up with them at the hotel tonight, if it’s not too late. He probably won’t see Aimee and Genevieve until tomorrow morning, at breakfast—and even then, that depends on how busy they are with the various wedding preparations Aimee’s been telling him about.

The roads nearing the hotel are uneven and winding. Halfway through the drive, Yves registers, faintly, that he isn’t really feeling any better from before. His head is still hurting from the flight, and when he swallows, he finds his throat feels perhaps the slightest bit sore.

He’s cold, too, in the sort of uncomfortable, persistent way that’s difficult to alleviate, even with extra layers or with a warm drink. He’s starting to suspect that maybe the airplane cabin hadn’t been the problem after all.

None of that is particularly visible to any of the others—that is, until he finds himself tensing up halfway through a sentence, burying his head into the crook of his elbow as his eyes squeeze shut—

“God, sorry, I— hh-! hHehh’iiZZSCHh’iiEW!”

“Bless you,” Vincent, Victoire, and Leon say to him, all at once.

“You’d better not be getting sick,” Leon says, turning to him, with the sort of tone that implies that he’s joking. “That would really be the worst timing.”

“I’m not,” Yves says, swallowing against the soreness in his throat. “I promise.” Or, perhaps more accurately—he can’t be.

It will be the perfect wedding, he thinks. Aimee has planned it out meticulously, and she’s one of the most thorough people he knows. The weather forecast says this week will be sunny and temperate. He’s here, in France. Tomorrow, he’ll be surrounded by his extended family, and in the afternoon he and Vincent will head off to the welcome party, and he’ll get to give Aimee the gifts he’s gotten for her and introduce Vincent to everyone formally. Everything will go as planned—the welcome party, the wedding rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, and on Saturday, the wedding and the vows.

It will be perfect, because it has to be. Yves will be present, and attentive, and he’ll give the speech he has prepared at Aimee’s wedding, and they’ll all remember this week fondly. Even considering the small, almost negligible chance that he’s coming down with something, there are more important things he has to worry about right now, which is to say: Yves is going to do this right.

He’s going to make sure of it. 

[ Part 2 ]

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 30

We left Frankie in a pretty bad state at the end of the last chapter and now we need to get through that as his girl and the guys begin to really worry about where his actions are leading him. And Joel steps in of course, but perhaps not in the best way.

I just want to add too, that this chapter included a conversation that has been a long time coming but it was very hard to write since neither man wants to talk about it and I can just hope I did them both justice.

I just want to add too, since some people are nervous about it; I LOVE hearing your thoughts and comments on what I write, even if the chapter is months and months old! It's my favourite thing about posting here and on Ao3, hearing your thoughts as you read through the fic, so please, share with me!

Series Master List

Chapter 31 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 7.7k

You wake with a start, your body jerking you awake with panicked breaths. The bedroom is light, the window faces south and a weak sun is glinting through the closed curtain which means you slept far longer than usual, the sun rises late in the Massachusetts winter months. You rush to push back the comforter and hurry out into the living room. The blanket is pushed back on the couch and Frankie is not there, and not in the kitchen either. As you turn to the bathroom you see what’s missing, his boots, his jacket and backpack. 

“Fuck!” you groan loudly and run back to the bedroom, grabbing your clothes from last night and rushing to put them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You feel an urgent need to get to Frankie, to talk to him. It’s not like him to leave, certainly not in the middle of an argument, and never, ever, has he left in the morning without saying anything to you. Something is not right, it feels like the two of you have crossed a line that you need to get you both back behind. 

You tie your boots and shrug your winter coat on, your first stop is Pope’s place. You hammer on his door and he throws it open, his face falling when he sees your expression. 

“Frankie came home drunk last night and now he’s left again, I don’t know where he is!” you blurt out as Pope lets you into his apartment. 

“Slow down, hermana,” he says, grabbing hold of your shoulders, steadying you, “From the beginning.” 

“Frankie and I got into an argument about what he did when he was on that run with Will, he couldn’t understand why I thought he was too violent,” you say, trying to calm yourself, but your hands are shaking and Pope grabs them, holding them together between his own. “Then Joel came by, right in the middle of it, something about planning a new run, and Frankie just left with him, saying he needed to think. And then he came back late last night , really drunk and passed out on the couch, and now he’s gone! He never leaves without saying goodbye and I don’t know where he is!” Your voice breaks on the last word and Pope lets go of your hands, bending down to grab his boots. 

“We’ll go find him, we’ll go to Benny’s first, Tommy said something yesterday about meeting there.” He looks up at you while he laces his boots, “Don’t worry, hermana, it’s early still, he can’t have gone that far.” 

…

“Tell me again what this FEDRA guy told you about the raiders?” Benny asks Joel as they duck under a broken piece of the highway and head into an old sewage tunnel. 

“A small FEDRA patrol saw a bunch of them down in Dorchester, if we take them out, we get to keep the supplies,” Joel replies, stepping around a dead rat. 

“And you trust this guy?” 

“Yeah, he owes me a favor, I saved his ass a couple of times. And he’s given me tips before, they’ve always been solid, nothing this big though.” 

“Alright, as long as you think it’s a legit tip,” Benny nods and falls back a bit, Frankie’s right behind him, Tommy taking up the rear. 

“You ok, Fish? You look a bit pale,” Benny says, his voice lower for the benefit of his friend. 

“Yeah, just slept like shit, and we had a fucking early wake up call,” Frankie grumbles, pulling the bill of his cap down lower over his eyes.

“Tell me about it,” Benny sighs, “Eve just woke up to say goodbye, then she went right back to sleep. Wish I could’ve stayed in bed with her.” 

“Mmhm, same,” Frankie mutters, pausing as they come to the end of the tunnel.

“Ok, on your toes now, we've got to go out in the open here,” Joel says, waving the other three men forwards. 

…

The trek down to Dorchester is smooth, and it doesn’t take long for them to find the raiders' small camp. They’ve set up on the top floor of an office building and Benny and Frankie silently take out the two guards at the bottom of the stairs. It gets messy when they reach the top and they have to open fire but Joel tosses in a homemade smoke bomb and after that they can just pick off the raiders as they come stumbling out. 

They pick through the raider’s supplies and fill their packs, it’s a pretty good haul and Benny starts searching for any food they might’ve hidden, coming across a door that’s been blocked off with a filing cabinet. 

“Hey, Catfish! Give me a hand with this!” he calls to Frankie, “Cover me in case they’ve locked a fucking infected in here or something.” 

Frankie stands a few feet from the door with his rifle raised as Benny puts his shoulder to the filing cabinet and pushes it out of the way. The door swings open and Benny jumps out of the way. 

“Oh fuck, shit! Man, that’s foul!” 

The dead boy of a young woman falls out across the doorway, her body must’ve been propped against the door, and judging by the stench, she’s been dead a while. The body of another young woman is curled up on a dirty mattress, she’s less far gone, her emaciated features still clear. Both women are naked and Benny swallows hard and glances back at Frankie as they both realize why the women were locked up. 

“We should’ve killed those fucking raiders slower,” Frankie growls, turning away from the room and Benny follows him. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here and back to the QZ”. 

Back down at street level again Joel takes the lead and moves down the way they came, covering a couple of blocks before Benny suddenly signals for everyone to halt. 

“Heads up, I hear a car,” he calls in a low voice to the others. 

“More raiders,” Joel says, “C’mon, we’ll ambush them, this is the only cleared street.” He looks around the block they’re on and points to cars that have been pushed aside on either side of the street. “Frankie, Benny, hide behind either car, cover me. Tommy, get behind me. I’ll make them stop, usual way should work, if not, just shoot ‘em.” 

“Joel, you sure?” Benny interrupts, “How do we know they’re raiders? We should hang back and observe, see if they go for the base we cleared.” 

“No, then we just have to clear them out again and this time they’ll be on their guard,” Joel scowls, “Get in position!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Benny shakes his head, looking over at Frankie who’s already moved into cover, “Fish? You ok with this?” 

“Joel’s right, it’s probably the same group of raiders, we need to take them out.” 

“Get in position, Benjamin, or stay the fuck out of our way, they’re almost here,” Joel points to the other car, staring at Benny. The younger man takes a deep breath, glancing over at Frankie again who motions with his head to get behind the car. 

“Fuck!” Benny growls and grips his rifle, ducking behind cover with an angry scowl. 

Joel quickly gets into position as the rumbling engine comes closer, keeping an eye out for the car. As it gets closer Benny sees it, it’s a small beat up sedan with several bullet holes in the sides. He glances over at Frankie and gives him a hand signal, indicating three people inside. Frankie nods and passes on the message to Tommy just as the car drives down the block they’re on. Ahead of him, Benny suddenly hears Joel give up a loud shout, stumbling out of the alley into the path of the car, his hand clutching his side, the other raised to the driver. 

The others watch, guns ready and hidden out of sight, as the car barrells towards Joel, who’s staggering across the road. Suddenly the driver slams the brakes and the car skids to a halt in front of Joel. From his hiding place Benny sees the driver open the door and step up on the instep, aiming a gun at Joel. 

“Hey, I-I need help, p-please,” Joel stutters, holding up the hand that’s not holding his side, where he’s conveniently hidden his handgun. 

“What’s wrong with you?” the driver calls as Joel stumbles closer, the man is still half hidden behind the door and Joel’s trying to get around to his side so he half falls to the side, taking several stuttering steps sideways. 

“You infected?” the driver says, following Joel with his gun, “Can’t help you then I’m afraid.” 

“R-raiders,” Joel coughs, “ran into a whole bunch.” 

Benny looks over at Frankie, he’s got a clear shot at the driver and he’s aiming at him. Benny signals at him to hold his fire, these guys don’t sound like raiders, but Frankie’s shaking his head, squeezing his rifle as the man continues to keep his gun on Joel. 

“Be careful, Dan!” a man in the car suddenly calls and Joel straightens up, pulling his gun, aiming at the man. A shot rings out and the driver slumps forward, a clean shot though his head. 

“God dammit, Frankie!” Benny yells, lifting his own rifle as the man in the car dives for the fallen man’s gun. Joel fires on him but misses and the man takes off running. On his right Ben hears Tommy open fire on the third person in the car as Joel yells. 

“Shoot his leg, Frankie, take him down alive!” The man is running as fast as he can down the block but two shots ring out and he yells, tumbling to the ground as blood bursts from his thigh. 

“Secure him, Benny,” Frankie yells and advances on the car, rifle raised. Benny keeps his gun on the fallen man and moves up to him, he’s splayed on his back, gripping his thigh, whimpering. 

“Oh fuck, please, please don’t kill me!” he says, trying to crawl backwards away from Benny. 

“Just stay still, I’m not gonna hurt you unless you give me a reason,” Benny says, keeping his distance as he glances back at the car. Frankie’s jogging towards him and behind him, Joel steps into the car and a woman screams. 

“No, no, don’t hurt her! She’s my sister!” the man on the ground shouts and Benny turns his head back to him as Frankie joins him. 

“What’s going on, Fish?” he says in a voice low enough for the man not to hear. 

“The third passenger is a woman, Joel’s questioning her about who they are and where they’re going.” 

“Fish! These guys are obviously not raiders, what the fuck are we doing?” Benny glances back at the car as another high pitched scream comes from the woman and the man on the ground shouts. 

“Get off her you fucking prick! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” 

Frankie raises his rifle and aims at the man, “Easy there, he’s just questioning her.” 

“What the fuck, Frankie, this is not how we treat civilians!”

“What fucking civilians? We can’t trust anyone, Benny, you saw what the raiders did to those two women!” Frankie growls. 

“Yeah, but these guys are barely armed!” Benny nudges the dropped gun on the ground with his boot, badly maintained and rusty. 

“And how the fuck were we supposed to know that?” Frankie asks, his rifle still trained on the bleeding man who’s whimpering, clutching his leg and looking towards the car. 

“Maybe we don’t attack just anyone who drives past!” Benny hisses at Frankie, his eyebrows drawn tight with anger and frustration. “This is so fucked up, Fish!”

“Is he still alive?” Joel barks as he walks over, leaving Tommy to watch over the woman in the car. 

“Yeah, but he’s bleeding, we need to get a tourniquet on that leg soon,” Benny replies, “Joel, what the fuck are we doing here? These guys are not raiders.” 

Joel doesn’t reply, instead he walks up to the man on the ground and kneels down, Frankie’s gun is still trained on him, but Benny has let his drop, pointing it at the ground instead. 

“You sister is it?” he asks of the man, putting his hand over the gunshot wound on the thigh. 

The man nods, looking petrified under Joel’s hard stare.He yelps loudly when Joel’s hand squeezes the injured area, digging his fingers in. 

“Your sister told me where you came from, and where you’re going. You’d better tell me the same thing she did, or I’m telling my guy over there to shoot her knee off, you understand?” Joel’s voice is hard and low, slowly squeezing the man’s leg tighter. 

“Worcester!” the younger man blurts out, “We came from Worcester, and we’re heading for the Boston QZ but we got attacked and got lost. Please don’t hurt her, she’s my only family!”

“Have you got any supplies apart from what’s in the car?” 

“No, no, I s-swear, we’ve got n-nothing!” the man stutters, groaning under the pain of Joel’s hand digging into his injured leg, “Please, we’ve got nothing!”

“Good boy,” Joel growls, easing off the man's leg and standing up. 

He comes back to Benny and Frankie, wiping his hand on his trouser leg, “They both say the same thing. I say we leave ‘em and take the car, we can trade for it or stash outside the wall, might come in handy sometime.” 

“Fuck, Joel, we need to take them with us, we can’t leave them out here,” Benny says and looks to Frankie for support but he just gives a hesitant shrug. 

“I don’t know Benny, we can’t trust them,” he says. 

“What fucking choice do we have? Leave them injured out here with no guns?” Benny snarls back at him.

“They’re not our responsibility!” Joel snaps, “Let’s fucking- “ 

All three men freeze as the first tell tale sounds echo between the buildings, the snarling shrieks of dozens of infected reaching them. 

“Runners! Runners!” Tommy yells from the car, “Come on, we need to fucking go!” He rushes to the driver’s side of the car, jumping in and the woman sees her chance, bolting from the car and running for the alley. 

“Leave her, just leave her!” Joel yells as he grabs Frankie and starts running towards the car, “Just start the car, Tommy!”

“Benny, no! Leave him!” Frankie shouts as he sees Benny moving towards the injured man on the ground. “Fucking leave him!” 

“Please, please…just kill me” the man begs, looking back over his shoulder and Benny follows his gaze. 

“Fuck!” he gasps, frozen to the spot for a second before he raises his gun and fires, the man slumping onto the asphalt. Benny spins around and starts running after Frankie, the horde of infected barrelling down the street screeching loudly. 

“Benny! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Frankie yells, “Get in the car!” 

Tommy’s already got the car moving as Benny catches up, grabbing hold of Frankie’s arm and getting pulled into the back seat. 

“Floor it, Tommy!” Joel shouts, looking back over his shoulder, out the back window. 

…

Thank fuck Tommy’s a good driver, he speeds through the streets, leaving the horde far behind. He only slows down once they enter the area around the QZ and turns off onto a narrow street that Joel directs him to. 

“Here, down there, park between those two cars and we’ll throw some trash on it.” 

The four men quickly make the car look unusable and head towards the QZ, splitting up as they get inside, stepping out into a quiet alley a few blocks from the wall.. 

“Alright, good run, except for the fucking infected,” Joel says, clapping Frankie on the back, “I’ll see you guys at the bar in a couple of days.” 

Frankie nods and Benny throw the brothers a two fingered salute as they leave. 

“Hey Fish, wait up, we need to talk,” Benny says as Frankie turns to leave too. 

“If you’re gonna yell at me for how we handled the people in the car, fucking save it, I already got an earful from Will after our last run,” Frankie says, his shoulders hunched and eyebrows pulled tight, “I don’t need another lecture on how we’re using army tactics on civilians.” 

“Frankie, man, c’mon, you’ve got to admit, that was pretty fucking bad? We should’ve just observed them, not fucking attacked,” Benny rubs his hand over his face, “I mean, why the fuck did Joel even pull that stunt with forcing them to stop? And why did you open fire? I’ve never seen you jump the gun like that, Fish.” 

“The guy in the car, I thought he was about to pull a gun on Joel, so I shot first.” 

“And the interrogation technique? You taught him that?” 

“So what? We do what we need to do to survive.” 

Benny shakes his head, “That was not about survival, I don’t know what the fuck that was!”

“Just fucking leave it, Benny! Ok?” Frankie snaps, scowling at his friend, “I’ll see you later, I need to get something done.” He shoulders his backpack and heads off in the opposite direction of the apartment. 

“Fish, c’mon!” Benny calls after him, but Frankie just gives a dismissive wave of his hand without turning his head as he rounds the corner. 

“Fuck…” Benny mutters and stalks off towards the radio office, he needs to see you. 

…

It feels like deja vu when you find Benny outside the building where Sean lives and has the radio office. 

“I’ve got to talk to you about Frankie,” he says and you feel like your heart stops, you’d been trying to find Frankie all morning, until you had to go to the radio office. Pope promised he’d keep looking, checking back at the apartment during the afternoon. 

“Did something happen to him? Pope and I have been looking for him all day!” you say, grabbing hold of Benny’s arm and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“He didn’t tell you we were going on a run with Joel and Tommy today?” 

“Benny, is he ok?” You feel like shaking him but you limit yourself to grabbing his arm tighter and Benny nods. 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine, he’s fine, he came back with me but he said he had to do something when we got back.” Benny takes in your anxious looking face as it slips into relief and returns your grip on his arm, putting his hand over yours. “He didn’t tell you and he hasn't come to see you yet? Is something going on with you guys?” 

You sigh and feel yourself deflating, your shoulders sagging with relief that Frankie’s ok, but at the same time, that lead weight settles in your stomach as you worry about his behavior again.

“Walk me home, Benny, please,” you ask, “if you have time?” You feel like Benny’s friendly presence next to you is the only thing that will make your feet move down the street as you chew on your bottom lip. 

“Sure, I’ll walk you, I need to get back to Eve but...but maybe that can wait, what’s going on?”

“Tell me what happened when you were with him today,” you say, taking his arm and leaving the front entrance. 

Benny looks around the two of you as you start walking down the street, checking that there is no one near that can overhear first and then he tells you the whole thing. 

“Fuck…” you sigh for what feels like the twentieth time as Benny ends by telling you that Frankie took off after they got back. “His PTSD has been getting worse and both Pope and Will brought it up in the past few days. That last run with Will, things went bad and Pope’s been noticing his behavior being off too.”

You’ve reached the door to your building and you stop, looking up at Benny’s frown. “Yesterday I tried telling him that I think he shouldn’t go on runs with Joel anymore. Joel triggers something in Frankie and…I don’t know…I feel like maybe they aren’t good for each other. They’ve both suffered an unimaginable loss, in the worst possible way, and when Frankie got help, Joel seems to have had to deal with it on his own and it’s made him…just…very dark, like he’s just ‘existing’ and doing what he needs to do to survive…”

“And he has no empathy for others,” Benny fills in, “he didn’t even stop to consider that the people in the car could be just people trying to get to the QZ, and he left them with no second thought when the infected came, it was all about eliminating a potential threat and then about saving himself and Tommy.” Benny swipes his cap off his head and drags his hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m not even sure he would bother to save Frankie and myself, if we hadn’t gotten to that car in time.”

“But Frankie doesn’t see it,” you say, “and when I asked him to not go on runs with Joel anymore because I think it makes his PTSD worse, we got in a huge fight,” you sigh deeply, dropping your eyes to your toes and you feel Benny’s hand on your shoulder. “He got really mad when I said I thought he was too violent with this guy, Frankie threatened to gouge his eye out. But Frankie said he only did what was needed to get the antibiotics for Sean’s grandkid.” You swipe your hand over your cheek as tears start to drip down, “Fuck, I don’t wanna cry again,” you say, anger seeping through your voice, “Fuck!” 

You tilt your head back up and look at Benny’s worried eyes, “Come on, it’s you and Frankie, you’re everything to him, one fight doesn’t ruin it,” he says, rubbing your shoulder

“He walked out, Benny, right in the middle of the fight. He’s never done that before, he just took off with Joel. And then he came home really drunk and we started arguing again and he passed out on the couch, he said he thought I didn’t want him in my bed anymore. And then this morning he left again, without saying anything. He went outside the wall and didn’t even say goodbye.” Tears spill over properly now and you sniffle, trying to stem the flow, but the nerves of the day catches up with you. Benny starts rubbing his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort you. 

“Let’s get you inside, Frankie might be home already, you two need to talk it out, c’mon,” Benny gently hooks his arm around your shoulder and guides you through the door and up the stairs. You fumble out your keys and unlock your front door, opening up to a still dark apartment. 

“Alright, he’s not home yet, but he’ll be here soon, I’ll wait with you until he turns up,” Benny says and starts to lift off his still heavy backpack and you stop him. 

“No, please, go home to Eve. I know she’s worried about you since you went outside, get back home. I’ll be fine, and Pope’s next door if I need anything.” You put your hands on his chest and try, and fail, to nudge the big man towards the door. 

“You sure? I’ll wait for him, and slap some sense into him if needed, just say the word,” Benny replies, tilting his head down to catch your eyes properly. 

“I’m sure, Benny, please go home,” you give him another pointless shove and he gives with a small smile. 

“Ok, if you’re sure I’ll go, but give me a hug first,” he says and bends down, capturing you between his long arms. Benny’s signature bear hugs are all encompassing and he lifts you up, shaking you gently and making you giggle through your tears. 

“Just remember, it’s you and Frankie, you’re the love of his life. All he does, he does for you, if he’s lost his way, all he needs is for you to bring him back home. To you.” 

“Benny, when did you become so insightful?” you smile weakly as he puts you down on your feet. 

“Not insightful, I’ve just watched you two over the past, what is it? Eleven years now? And with Eve, I get it, what you two have. I’d do anything for her, and I know that’s all Frankie ever wants to do for you.” 

“Get back to her, Benny, before you make me cry again,” you say, giving his arm a final squeeze before he steps through the door. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“I’ll come by the radio tomorrow and check on you, ok?” 

“Ok, Benny, stay safe, love you!”

“Love you too, sis!” he calls as he jogs down the stairs. 

…

You try to keep busy while you wait for Frankie; preparing dinner, cleaning the apartment, you even pull out your gun and start disassembling it on the coffee table to get it cleaned. It’s dark before he comes home, you hear his footsteps in the hallway first and then the key. Even before he opens the door you know something’s wrong, he struggles with the key in the lock, fumbling with the handle and you stand up, leaving the pieces of the gun on the table. 

“Frankie?” you ask as the door shuts behind him, “Are you ok?” You walk over to the front door, and he glances up at you before he drops his backpack by the door. 

“Yeah, ‘s fine,” he mumbles, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the hook. “Went out with Benny today.” 

“I know, Benny stopped by the radio,” you say, your body freezing as he shuffles past, only briefly pausing to drop a peck on your cheek, perfunctory. He smells of whiskey, fresh whiskey, like he’s just been drinking. 

You don’t even know where to start as you follow him into the kitchen, the argument last night, him leaving this morning without saying anything, his run with Joel today or the way he stumbles around the kitchen table towards the stove. 

“Frankie…” you say again, making your voice soft, you feel like you’re talking to a child, or a wild animal, not your sweet Frankie who you know so well. When he doesn’t even react, let alone look over at you, you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, reminding yourself that this is his PTSD, this is not your Frankie. 

“Frankie, talk to me please,” you start again, coming up next to him at the counter, you put your hand on his arm. 

“What did Benny tell you? That we went out again?” he says, still not looking at you, his tone clipped. 

“Yes, he said you took out some raiders and then…” you pause, you don’t know how to phrase it but Frankie does it for you. He steps away from you, and leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen. 

“H-he told you we took out three people in a car, that I shot one of the guys when I shouldn’t have, right? That’s what he told you? T-that I’m out of control and violently torturing civilians?” His voice is harsh, there’s an edge to it you don’t recognise and he’s still not looking at you. 

“He’s worried about you, Frankie, and I’m too,” you say, “you haven’t been yourself these past few months.” You try to find his eyes but he’s got the bill of his cap pulled low, eyes on the floor two feet in front and his fingers are twitching, nervously. 

“I already told you, I do what I need to do, to stay safe,” he mutters, the edge still sharp in his voice, crossing his arms tight over his chest, crossing his legs too, closing himself off from you. 

“Benny said they were civilians, just trying to get to the QZ- “ you start to say but Frankie suddenly flares up. 

“We’d just taken out a gang of raiders! It could’ve been more of them! The guy was about to pull a fucking gun on Joel, so I took the shot!” He throws his arms out, meeting your eyes for the first time. “You can’t fucking trust anyone, it’s us or them and I do what I need to do to survive! They could’ve attacked and killed us instead, then what?” 

“But you were never like that before, Frankie!” you can’t help but raise your voice in frustration. When he worked with Pope in Arlington, or when you traveled up to New York with Benny and Pope, he was never so calloused, so distrusting and rash. “You used to observe, calculate the risks, you never rushed into situations, but since you started working more with Joel…I don’t know Frankie, it’s like he rubs off on you.” You drop your hands to your sides, you suddenly realize you’ve mimicked Frankie and thrown them open but now you sigh, lower them and take a deep breath. 

“Frankie…I know you’re capable of real violence,” you shake your head, sighing, “but you’re not a violent person, it’s like it’s getting away from you when you work with Joel and I do-” 

“Maybe I am a violent person now? This is the person I need to be now, to keep myself safe, to keep us safe!” Frankie slams his hands against the cupboard and stalks out of the kitchen, turning and gripping the back of the couch as he gets to it, looking back at you. “I do it for you, don’t you get it?! Maybe this is the person I have to be now to keep myself safe, for you, to stay alive for you because I have to keep you safe!”

“Then stay here, stay in the QZ,” you follow him towards the living room. “I don’t want you to go out any more if this is what you have to do. It’s destroying you!”

“That's all I can do!” he shouts back at you, “That’s all I’m tra-trained for, I’m the b-best at it! It’s the only thing that makes a difference!”

“Frankie, you don’t have to-” you begin, but Frankie just shakes his head and starts pacing the living room like he can’t hear you.

“E-every time I leave you make me p-promise to come back safe, did you ever stop to think that this is what I have to do to keep that promise to you?! I have to stay alive to keep you safe, I promised you that and now you think I’m a monster for what I have to do?” 

Frankie slams his hands hard against the wall and spins round, stomping across the living room again and you’re worried now, he’s spiraling out of control, his voice becoming more and more unstable. “I d-do this for you, I stay a-alive for you, don’t you get it! I would’ve fucking ki-killed myself after she died! I was so fucking close to it, so-s-so fucking close to just walking into that fucking lake and ending it! If-if it wasn’t for you still in that cabin!” His voice is rising to a shout, spinning around and slamming his fist into the wall again, “I just..I promise to come back every time, I have to come back but you still think I’m just violent, just a fucking monster, just a mo-monster, I-I can’t- “

“Frankie, c’mon man!”

You didn’t even hear the front door open but Pope suddenly walks into the living room. You’re frozen by the kitchen as Frankie paces, more and more agitated, back and forth, his arms waving in front of him as his mind whirls. You can see his glassy eyes, his breathing is starting to get erratic but you have no idea how to stop this. But Pope strides over to his friend and stands in front of him, forcing him to come to a halt. 

“Francisco, cálmate, hermano. Por favor;” he tries to catch Frankie’s eyes, gently placing his hands on his shoulders and holding on as Frankie tries to shrug them off, looking at him with almost unseeing eyes.

“Frankie…fuck…” he sighs as he scans his face, “you’re high as a fucking kite. What did you take?” 

At that Frankie’s eyes snap up to Pope’s, “Fucking nothing!” he snarls, wrenching himself away and stumbling back towards the couch. 

“Fish, I’ve seen you high more times than you can remember, I know when you’ve been using, man,” Pope says as Frankie grabs the back of the couch again, hiding his eyes beneath the bill of his cap again, refusing to look at you or Santi. 

“Frankie…” you try, your voice wobbling as you recognize the signs in him but he just shakes his head. 

“I had a few drinks with Joel, I’m not fucking high,” he mutters but Santi shakes his head. 

“C’mon, Fish, I know you’re struggling, she knows it too, we just wanna help you,” he takes a few steps towards Frankie, the frustration seeping through into his voice and Frankie backs away, turning around and going for his backpack. 

“I’m not fucking high,” he snarls over his shoulder, rifling through his backpack. 

“Fine, you’re not using,” Santi says, “then show us your pack.” He motions towards the bag at Frankie’s feet and the way Frankie reacts makes your stomach sink another notch. His hands clench instinctively around the opening, pulling it closer but Pope steps in and reaches for the bag. Frankie abruptly stands up and stumbles back, grabbing it but his movements are slow and Pope’s faster, he snatches the backpack from Frankie, holding it away from him. 

“Coño, pendejo!” Frankie snarls, trying to grab the bag back from Pope, “What the fuck are you doing?!” “What the fuck are you doing, Frankie?” Pope replies with a sneer, shoving him back and Frankie, already unsteady on his feet, stumbles backwards and falls onto the couch. “You told me yourself, never trust a fucking junkie.” 

Keeping an eye on Frankie, while you stand stunned by the kitchen door, your hands gripping the door frame so hard your fingers ache, Pope opens the backpack and digs through it. It doesn’t take him long, under Frankie’s dull eyes he soon pulls out a small baggie with white pills. Pope sighs and holds it out to Frankie. 

“What is it?” 

“Painkillers,” Frankie mumbles, but his eyes drop from Pope to his feet, his lie so obvious it forces tears into your eyes. 

“Frankie…” you whisper and he glances up at you and meets your eyes for a second before he looks away. But even in that brief glance you see the pain and guilt in his eyes and it pushes you to move, walking around the coffee table and sinking down on the couch next to him. You raise your hand to put it on his shoulder but before you touch him he’s on his feet, snatching the bag from Pope’s hand. 

“It’s fucking painkillers, ok?!” he yells, his aggression flaring up as he stumbles towards the front door.

“Catfish, for fucks sake,” Pope shouts as his patience snaps, “get your fucking shit together, man!”

“Please, Frankie, you know this is your PTSD making you spiral, we’ve been here before,” you plead with him, standing up again as he stops with his back to you and the room. But whatever is in his system has control of him now as he shakes his head, his fingers twitching around the small baggie in his hand. Neither of you are getting through to him now, his body language closed off, even with his back turned you see the walls go up. But still, you go up to him where he stands by the door. His chin is on his chest, his shoulders up by his ears, you can feel the tension rolling off him as he fights whatever demon is in his mind. Gently you put your hand on his arm, and he trembles under your touch, giving the smallest shake of his head. 

“Frankie…” you whisper, “please, stay with me, we’ve done this before, we can do it again, I love you.” 

He shudders, a long held breath rushes out of him and he shakes his head again. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I love you, I’m sorry.” He pushes open the door and his arm slips from under your hand. You hear him run down the stairs and Santi comes up behind him, he’s got his coat on. 

“I’ll follow him, I won’t let him get into more trouble, I’ll get him back,” he gives you a quick squeeze and hurries after Frankie. 

…

Frankie rushes through the streets, the bag of oxy burning a hole in his pocket. He has no plan for where to go, he left his coat back at the apartment and the cold March air is making him shiver. Picking up his pace he turns at random, down a street, and then another, losing himself in the narrow alleys of North End, but it doesn’t surprise him when he finds himself in front of Joel’s apartment building, a dirty red brick block. It makes sense; to end up here. He pushes the door open and stumbles up the stairs.

Joel’s slow to answer his front door, Frankie’s almost given up, prepared to sit and wait by the door, when the older man finally opens up and looks him up and down. “Hey Frankie, what’s up? You’ve got no jacket on.” 

“I ran out on it, left in a hurry,” Frankie mumbles in reply, his mind is still foggy, he can’t quite focus on Joel. “I got some of your supply on me, Pope found it in my bag.”

“Ah, bet he wasn’t too happy about that,” Joel says, waving Frankie inside. “He ain’t too happy about me wanting to trade what we got up in Concord.” He closes the door and motions to the couch and Frankie slumps down on it as Joel goes to the kitchen and pulls out two glasses and a bottle. 

“Give me one of those too,” Joel motions to Frankie’s pocket and sits down at the other end of the couch. Frankie pulls out the baggie and pour out the pills on the coffee table, handing one to Joel, taking another one for himself and they both down it with the whiskey. 

Joel’s not one for talking much and Frankie’s grateful, he just needs a place to forget everything for a while. And for a long time both men sit at opposite sides of the couch, lost in their own minds as the chemicals take over. Frankie tilts his head back, his eye following the cracks in the ceiling until they slip closed and he just feels himself breathing, finally peace takes over in his mind as the fog settles. 

Joel slips in another pill and another few large mouthfuls of the liquor, leaning back against the back of the couch and rubbing his eyes with his hand. 

“You lost your daughter,” he says, almost surprising himself when the words come out. 

Frankie doesn’t move, his eyes closed, “Yeah,” he squeezes his eyes shut, little sparks of red and yellow blossoming behind his eyelids, but he sees something else in his mind. 

He tilts his head forward, opening his eyes and focusing on his hands, “Yeah,” he says again, rubbing his thumb over the fleshy part of his hand, he can almost see the blood on it. “I did, right at the beginning.” 

“She got infected?” 

Frankie balks at the question, the image of his little girl, mycelium under her skin, flashes up in his mind. He’s seen multitudes of infected since, killed so many, seen the thin white strands wriggle towards him as they attack and die in front of him, but he never lets himself commit what they look like to memory. This one is the only one that he remembers. 

“Yeah,” he nods, “one of the first days.” 

He and Joel have never talked about this before. He never talks to anyone about Lucía or what happened to her, not even to the one person who knows what he went through in the aftermath. 

 He glances over at Joel, he’s still leaning back on the couch, his hand rubbing over his eyes. 

“D’you ever talk about Sarah?” 

“No.” The answer is fast and curt. 

Both men sit in silence for a few minutes, Joel shifts on the couch, looking over at Frankie, “Everyone’s lost someone. No one wants to hear about her.” 

“How did she die?” Frankie locks eyes with Joel, suddenly it feels important to know how Sarah died. Joel knows how Lucía died, it feels important to know how Sarah died too. Joel meets his eyes for a few beats before he drops his gaze and stares at the wall opposite. 

“It was the first night. We were trying to get away from town, ran into the military perimeter, a soldier shot at us. She…” Joel loses his words, his jaw clenching shut as he grinds his teeth, dropping his head between his shoulders. 

Frankie feels the fog swirl around his mind, letting the minutes slip by while Joel stares down at his watch. 

“I shot Lucía,” Frankie says, like a confession to Joel, to the man whose daughter was also shot. As if it makes a difference how they died. The daughters died and so did the fathers, when they failed.

The fog in his head clears slightly and behind the mist he sees the gun in his hand, aimed at his little girl, who no longer recognises him as she screeches and flails under the weight of her mother’s body. He reaches forward to the coffee table and takes two more pills, swallowing them down with the last of the whiskey in his glass, letting the fog cloud his mind again. 

Joel blinks and looks at Frankie as if he has to think about what the other man just said, “You shot her?”

“I had to, I’d seen what they were turning into. I couldn’t…” 

Joel leans forward, refilling his own glass and Frankies before he leans back, “I would’ve done the same.” 

The two men sit in silence as the fog swirls through them, making thoughts slow to appear and slow to disappear. 

“Sarah,” Frankie says, pushing a thought to the front of his hazy mind, “S-she was a great kid, L-Lucía loved her, fucking loved her. Didn’t stop talking about her for days after we got back.” 

He grips the glass and takes a sip, shaking his head, trying to remember the comforting thought he just had, it’s stuck somewhere in his chest, he can feel it. 

“I don’t…I do-don’t believe in God, I l-lost any faith I had in the army, you know. S-so many fucked up things that I saw, that I did,” he says, lifting his glass, motioning to the world outside. “I don’t believe in any god, any-anything. But I wish I did, because if Sarah d-died on that first night, that means that wherever they went, our kids, our little girls…Sarah was there waiting for Lucía. They weren’t alone,” Frankie pauses, he feels his chest constrict, that feeling like he can’t breathe threatening to overtake him. “I’d like to believe they weren’t alone,” he whispers, but in the quiet room, Joel still hears him.

Frankie slumps back down on the couch, spilling whiskey down his shirt, his burst of clarity suddenly spent, “They would’ve had each other…” 

“We failed them,” Joel says, his voice low, Frankie can hear the fog in his mind too. “We should’ve kept them safe, but all we did was stand there. Couldn’t keep ‘em safe.” 

Frankie nods, he feels his brain slowing down again, “I made so many mistakes…but she was the best mistake I made…couldn’t keep her safe,” he takes a large mouthful of the whiskey, it burns on the way down, distracting his mind for a second as he coughs. 

“I don’t talk about Sarah, not even to Tommy,” Joel says, rubbing his thumb over the rim of the glass. “ ‘S’no point, just makes me angrier, I get by better if I don’t think about her.”

Frankie slumps down deeper into the couch, curling himself around the glass in his hand, watching the whiskey swirl around as the fog in his brain follows the motions. 

“How do you stay alive,” he mumbles to the room and Joel tilts his head to look at the younger man, curled into the corner of the ratty old couch. The question is more for himself than for Joel but Joel answers anyway.

“For family,” he nods slowly, once, to himself, “for family, for Tommy. And for your woman, she kept you alive.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement and Frankie sighs. 

“She doesn’t think I should do runs any more, and she’s right, I know she’s right,” he mutters, pushing his cap off his head and rubbing his temple with his free hand, the fog is lifting again and he feels the edge of panic in his mind, but he can’t remember what he’s should panic about.  

“Why not? The drugs?” Joel motions at the dwindling pile of pills on the coffee table and Frankie grabs two of them, knocking them back with the whiskey still in his hand. 

“My head is fucked up. From the army. ‘S’gets worse sometimes, ‘s’gets worse when I do runs, when I do violent things.” Frankie sighs, “She doesn’t like it.” 

Joel snorts, a mirthless sound, “Men like us, you ‘n me, we do the violent things so others don’t have to, you keep her safe.” 

“S’what I t-told h-her,” Frankie grumbles, he can feel his head getting heavier, the fog is so thick he can’t even push his tongue through it, it’s sticking to his teeth. “I do it-do it, t-to keep he-her safe.” He sinks further into the couch, his head leaning on the back of it as he wills his hand to lift up the glass to his lips and drain it. “I-I do it t-to come b-back t-to h-er.” 

Through the fog in his own mind Joel sees Frankie tip forward, the empty glass in his hand, as he passes out. Joel’s glass clatters to the floor as he stumbles to his feet and staggers into the bedroom, falling onto the bed, passing out as his head hits the pillow. 

Chapter 31

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

[knightyoomyoui]

TWICE: ANTHOLOGY OF HORROR ONE-SHOTS | "Marriage Of Despair" ft. JEONGYEON

This one may not be that scary at all because of its sorrowful background, but it still has the classic elements that's been common to be seen in supernatural horror creations.

NOTE: Based on a true story.

"Marriage Of Despair" ft. Yoo Jeongyeon

Last year, Yoo Jeongyeon had one of the best and happiest moments of her life when she got married to her 3 years boyfriend, a fellow Korean celebrity like her named Min Janghoon in her hometown of Suwon, a province in South Korea.

Everything was already well-planned and ready to be prepared. The invited guests, including the family and relatives of two parties, Jeongyeon’s co-members, and some other friends and acquaintances couldn’t wait to see the two lovers exchange their wedding vows at the altar.

But then, just as when Jeongyeon and Janghoon were about to experience this special moment of their relationship to evolve, it also shared an occurrence to one of the worst and bone-chilling moments they have ever encountered.

Jeongyeon remembered that it all started when her husband Janghoon arrived earlier in the morning, respecting the allotted time that was given to them by the church to help prepare and also allow himself to get one too for the ceremony.

While he was waiting, her husband shared that there’s something uneasiness that swirls up inside of him which he couldn’t tell why is this happening. At first he thought its probably due to the nervousness that he also feels regarding the fact that he was about to marry his dream woman in front of such a live anticipating crowd, but then he realised it was serving as a foreshadowing for something eerie.

It has been minutes and Janghoon still has no update wheresoever of Jeongyeon is right now, but according to Jeongyeon he knows that she had she stayed in a hotel near to their church after her fellow members of the group and some of her make-up designers from her staffs decided to prepare her look there.

Janghoon’s concern at that time was that it had made him confused that why should Jeongyeon had to reach this long period of time to dress up when she’s just almost a meter away from the church.

And when he tried to call their wedding coordinator which is Jeongyeon’s sister Seungyeon, he could hear some loud crying and other voices that sounded like they’re comforting that person getting emotional.

Seungyeon confirmed to her that Jeongyeon was bawling her eyes at the moment when she learned that the staffs couldn’t find her wedding dress on her wardrobe.

“What? How did it went missing? It should’ve been already set up at her dressing room, right?”

“That’s we don’t know, Janghoon. The only thing they told to us is that it was the reason why they couldn’t be able to deliver it immediately at the room before she arrives because it just suddenly… disappeared.”

While Janghoon was talking to her sister-in-law, a friend of his named Seungkwan, a fellow K-Pop idol of Jeongyeon one of the popular person also included in their guests list came rushing towards him.

“Janghoon!”

“Oh hey, Seung”

“Can I excuse you for a sec, I know you’re in a call but… this is an emergency.”

“Why what happened?”

Seungkwan winced and sighed like he’s getting disturbed by something, rotating his head back and forth. “Uhm, it’s your suit. We couldn’t find it anywhere. Swear, it was already in your room but now it’s gone.”

“Huh?”

“But we’re currently looking for it right now, jeez man your wedding is about to start in 20 minutes!” Seungkwan’s panic arises through his tone when he looked at his wristwatch. Seungyeon heard what they are conversing about from behind the call and was completely puzzled too that a same scenario is currently happening to the married couple.

“Sorry Seungyeon, we better go.”

“Yeah sure, go find it. We’ll take it from here too.”

Janghoon ended the call and ran with Seungkwan back from his dressing room. Simulteanously without their knowing, Jeongyeon and Janghoon were both staring at their respective clothing stand, all empty.

Looking problematic, Janghoon started to assume that there’s definitely something not right about this.

Driven by anger, Janghoon quickly reported this to the hotel managers by contacting them while he is making his way out of the church. On the other hand, all of Jeongyeon’s assistants went distraught thinking of a miraculous way to order a new wedding dress with limited time remaining before the ceremony started.

Knowing that this is near impossible-or should I say indeed, they rather tried to reach out to the authorities from the police to report a possible theft in their belongings. Seungyeon and some of her closest friends from TWICE which is Jeongyeon’s group, named Sana and Jihyo went to talk with the management to ask for a possibility to move their schedule in case this doesn’t get resolved.

10 minutes remaining, still no progress except from the fast responses of everyone they have seek help from, both Jeongyeon and Janghoon prayed in their own spots, begging for the Lord not to ruin this for them and searching for a reason why this has to happen for their moment together.

This is when things get weird. Jeongyeon and Janghoon both halted from their prayers at the same time when each of them caught a part of their gown and suit moving from the distance.

Curious and alarmed that they have finally found their outfits, they tried to follow where it might go.Janghoon was the first one to walk through the church’s corridor before he got followed by Jeongyeon who was also trailing behind her floating dress.

Their chasd ended when Jeongyeon reached the end of the hall, leading herself and also you in which she has located you standing at the back of what it seems to be an abandoned chapel located at the back of the church.

Jeongyeon called Janghoon’s name and they both hugged to soothe their worries at their current situation right now.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Jeongyeon’s body around Janghoon’s arms got stiff when her eyes noticed something unusual.Her wedding dress is now floating through the middle of the chapel, as if it was making its way down to the aisle. Janghoon’s missing suit was at the altar, remained unmoved and was facing the direction of the gown coming close to it.

A silhoutte figure then began to form, covering the insides of their respective outfits like they are wearing them. It looked like it belong to a man and a woman they cannot identify because of its face being hidden as the front facing away from them. Only their backs are the ones who are remained to be seen.

“W-what is that…” Jeongyeon whispered as she gripped through the arm of Janghoon and shivered. Janghoon gulped and looked at Jeongyeon who looks scared on his side.

“I don’t know too, but whoever that might be, they have something that doesn’t belong to them. And we just have the rights to take back what’s ours.” Janghoon said before kissing Jeongyeon’s forehead and giving him a trusted nod.

They both slowly made their way through the two unknown figure standing in front of the altar. Just as when they were about to grab their shoulders, the figures disappeared right in front of their sight and the atmosphere around them got oddly cold. Jeongyeon shrieked in shock before her and Janghoon kneeled to slowly pick up their outfits that went falling to the floor.

Relieved that they have now got their dress and suit back, they got surprised by the appearance of Seungyeon breathing heavily and seems to be in a rush. She was about to announce some good news that she was able to move the wedding date but stopped to stare at the two sitting in front of the altar with their outfits on their lap.

"Are you freaking kidding me? Are you two pulling some sort of a prank on us?!”

“Wait, no Seungyeon listen-”

“Don’t you guys know how it took us some nerves and guts to face the management officials even thought our requests were this little to be approved?!”

“Unnie, please. This isn’t our own doing. Let us explain.”

“Oh you two better be, before I changed my mind to be your wedding coordinator.” Seungyeon crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “What are you two doing here in such a messy place anyway? This gives me the creeps by looking at it.”

Janghoon and Jeongyeon sighed at looked at each other before turning their attention back at Seungyeon. “We found this here but… it’s a complicated story to tell.”

Seungyeon still gave her interest to listen on whatever happened to these two. Jeongyeon and Janghoon both tried their best to narrate their ghostly encounter in the form of their own wedding attires. After the conversation, Seungyeon closed this with a deal that there must no one should know what happened despite being skeptical at how strange their experience had to be.

They instead followed the new schedule that were provided to them as a second chance to make their wedding successful. Jeongyeon and Janghoon got happily married on April 24, 2023.

A year later, Jeongyeon and Janghoon welcomed their first child in their family. About the condition of their wedding dress and tuxedo, the married couple decided to lock it on a box and hid it through the deepest and farthest area of their basement.

Not only because of their haunting experience, but also when they heard from Seungyeon and Seungkwan their own story that they believed to saw a glimpse of their shadows having two, despite the fact that there was only one light source in the altar.

And based from their investigation with a nun, they have discovered that it might belong to two poor souls of an engaged couple who was supposed to be married but got murdered by someone who was against their marriage, leading to the chapel’s shut down.

-----------------------------------------------------

NOTE: This is based again from a Filipino entry in Spooktober 2023 by MilkyClear titled "The Blushing Bride". I really love how he narrates the real-life stories of those people who submitted for him to share their scary encounters. Probably expect that I'll be retelling some of my favorite entries of his in the upcoming one-shots.

[whydontyousaeso]

“Tattooed in your brain” part 6!

Damian Preist x Fem Reader

Warnings- insults from random people, semi mentions of smut(not really)

A/n- it’s finally here 😭. I hope you guys like this and I’ll start posting other characters soon! Love you guys :3

Tag list: @brideofinfamy @haileysmall2005 @alyyaanna @queencherryberry @new-zealand-chic @lizzyd1ish @southerngirl41 @hikaruhatsue

He took you to a really good authentic Mexican restaurant, which was good because of the way your cravings had worked recently.

As you sat across him you admired his features, looking over his broad shoulders and chest along with his toned arms.

You almost let your brain wander too far.

That was quickly stopped however, you forced yourself to come back to reality and shake the thoughts from last night off.

“What are you thinking about?”

Dammit

“Hm? Nothing important.”

He smirked slightly and let it go.

“So am I taking you back to your place after this?”

Oh

You hadn’t thought about that.

Unfortunately you were actually pretty busy for the next couple days, as you had multiple job interviews.

“Yeah, I think that would work out”

“Got it, any way we could possibly do this again super soon?”

You sat and thought for a second.

“I have a ton of interviews through Wednesday, and if any of them offer me the job on the spot I’m taking it. I guess I just have to see how it plays out.”

He nodded along with your words, taking his time to think at the end.

“I wouldn’t mind having another date night Friday, if that’s okay with you of course”

Oh how you loved the date night from yesterday.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t”

That made him smile.

“Well, looks like we’re here”

You nodded with a tight lipped smile, in all reality you didn’t want to leave but had to.

“Make sure you’re taking care of the tattoo, I actually want to see it in a few days but if you can’t come in it’s perfectly understandable.”

You nodded again and looked over at him, leaning towards him

“I’ll see you next Friday if anything else D”

He smiled and leaned in, kissing your soft lips slowly.

Oh how his kisses always sent you to heaven

Or south of heaven, depending on the mood surrounding it.

You pulled back and smiled

“I’ll text you later, I promise.”

He nodded and let you go, allowing you to grab your bag and step out of the car.

As you made your way up the steps you let your mind wonder again.

You were gonna have to surprise him this week.

He was always doing a lot for you.

Maybe once the tattoo healed up, you were sure he would love to see the tattoo once it was settled.

You unlocked the door and stepped into the now empty apartment.

Your roommate was gone.

You kicked off your shoes and walked to your bedroom, throwing yourself on the bed and scrolling mindlessly through your social media.

You can’t say he left your mind though.

You missed him.

A lot.

Even as you looked at the bag that held your clothes from the night prior you ached for him.

You knew they would smell exactly like him.

The interviews were rough.

Really rough.

No one was interested in you or your skills, which was extremely frustrating.

“May I ask what turns you away from me?”

The older man smiled at you.

“Well it’s just I don’t think you would be nice as the first thing people see when they walk in.”

“Excuse me?”

He definitely just called you ugly

“Well I-“

“No it’s fine, you don’t have to explain anymore.”

You stood up and grabbed your things

“Thank you for the interview”

You speed walked out, holding back the angry tears in your eyes.

It was about lunchtime, and you weren’t far away from Damian’s place.

You pulled out your phone and called him, waiting for him to pick up.

“Cariño, what’s up?”

“Where are you right now?”

“Just hanging at my house, why?”

“Can I come over?”

“Yeah of course, need me to pick you up?”

“No no, I’ll be there in five minutes”

“Sounds good, stay safe”

You were so ready to be done.

You knocked on the door, your feet killing you in your heels.

It only took him a few seconds to open the door, sweeping you off your feet instantly

You wrapped your arms around him, everything dropping out of your hands.

“I missed you so much y/n”

You hummed and kissed his cheek, laying your head in his neck.

“It’s only been a couple of days”

You mumbled

“I still missed you.”

He closed the door and moved your things aside, carrying you into the living room.

The same one that you were in last time.

As he laid you down you noticed you could still smell it.

But that was the least of your concerns

“What’s wrong?”

You sighed and played with his hair, letting everything spill out.

As you let your stresses out he sprinkled kisses on your neck and chest, listening intently to everything you said.

“Do you have any more interviews today?”

You shook your head, wrapping your legs around him.

“Then you’re staying with me, if you want to of course.”

You smiled softly

“I came here for a reason you know?”

He chuckled and fixed your hair, running his hands through it.

“Do you need to go get anything from your apartment?”

“Not really, unless I decide to stay the night”

“That would be nice”

“It would, what do you have to do tomorrow?”

“I have a 12 am, then a 3 pm”

You hummed, tapping his shoulder so you could sit up.

“I might, I dunno yet. Why don’t we just watch tv or something?”

He nodded and kissed your cheek.

“Sounds good to me darling.”

[bloodyknucklesforme]

I Can't Help Myself | Carnal XIV

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, smut

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Can't Help Myself - Alexandra Savior

She took long baths, frequently. Water hot enough to burn her toes as she stepped in. Johnny had said she smelled like vanilla so soon a box filled with vanilla scent body care had arrived. Gourmand bubbles that threatened to overfill the tub.

She’d let herself slip, feet coming gliding out the one end while her head sank violently into the water. Stories about women bathing in perfume rewound in her mind.

She was afraid that Johnny would leave. He’d told her he would, that he wanted to stay. Then he and Simon would spend hours talking and she felt like a little girl spying on her father’s dinners. 

Simon was something else. She wouldn’t say she was afraid of him, cautious was a safer term. Excited was another word.

He made her want more from the world. That there was something else out there. Johnny and her were content in their little world but she wanted more. She wanted to learn to hunt, to prove she could take care of herself.  

Her hair was still damp when she went downstairs for breakfast. Johnny had made her tea just how she liked it. He and Simon were eating breakfast. They’d left a plate out for her. Eggs, toast and bacon. She sat between them at the table.

“How’re your arms?” Simon asked, holding out a hand to her. She pulled up her sleeve. It had mostly healed, a couple deeper gashes were still bandaged up. Simon’s hands were cold as they examined her. Johnny’s foot rubbed against hers.

Anytime Simon got too close Johnny would do something as a reminder that he was there. Not possessive, just a reminder. 

She wanted a second cup of tea. 

The fridge was running low. No milk, wilted green, green cheese. She hadn’t gone shopping in over a week, more occupied with Johnny’s recovery than anything domestic. 

“I’ll do the shopping today,” she said, scribbling down a list. She liked going early in the mornings, avoiding most of the town's crowd. 

She grabbed a couple reusable bags, her purse and a coat.

“You can’t take Johnny’s car.” Simon said. 

“Wasn’t planning too.”

“You walking?” 

“I have two legs.”

“I’ll drive.”

“No.”

“Not a question. Rained last night, it’s cold and foggy. I already have one body to get rid of. Don’t add to it.” 

She directed him into town even if he didn’t seem to need it. His car was an old Land Rover. Older than her at least. He took good care of it. Clean, detailed, didn’t shake as it took the curves. 

She kept her gaze out the window. His reflection came clear at particularly foggy stretches. He was wearing a black surgical mask and kept his hood up. He huffed when she told him to pull into Waitrose.

“What?” She frowned.

“Nothing.” 

“You coming in?”

“I’m not a dog.”

He followed her around as she shopped. The few eyes in the store still lingered on them. She was the weird girl. The girl who barely left her house, the haunted house. It was a couple weeks prior she was here with Johnny and now there was this other strange man. 

“Oh Nina! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” A shopping cart, piloted by an older woman, had come out in front of hers.

“Miss. Carter.” She said curtly. She had vague memories of her and Mr. Carter attending her father’s dinners a decade and a half ago. 

“How are you? You’ve gained weight!” She reached over and laid a hand on Nina’s stomach. “And who’s this?” Too many questions.

“My cousin… on my mother’s side.” 

“I didn’t know your mother had siblings.” She had a hand on Nina’s arm, a thin fleshed handcuff. 

“I imagine you don’t know lots of things.” Miss. Carter’s face dropped. Nina pushed her cart around her. “Excuse me.” 

“Your father would never approve of how you’re acting, Nina. Having strange men in the house, your father’s house! He would -”

“He blew his brains out in our dining room in front of me. He clearly didn’t care about the house or what I did with it after. Kindly fuck off.” Nina made sure to knock Miss. Carter’s cart to the side harshly. 

“Cousins?” Simon’s eyebrow raised as Nina grabbed flour and yeast off the shelf. She wanted to try baking again. 

“Johnny has a type apparently.” They had matching brown eyes and if his hair was longer than a buzz it could have been a similar shade of blonde to hers. Not a mirror but a variation, something better and stronger. Looking at him like this made her stomach warm. She didn’t know in what way but she wanted him in her mouth. 

He put a lot of salt into the cart. Twine too. Various spices, herbs, cooking oils. She let him add whatever he wanted. 

“Sweet tooth?” He asked when she put a white frosted cake into the cart. 

“I like cake.” She shrugged. He grabbed a pack of biscuits and tossed them in as well. 

Cleaning chemicals and bin bags. 

“Is there a drain in the stable?” 

“I believe so.”

He nodded. 

His grip on the cart was tight as the price on the till went up. Her father had left enough money for her that it wasn’t a questionable sum.

He pushed the cart back to the car. It had started sprinkling again and the air was colder. 

They loaded everything and shut the boot. She stepped out to walk around the car when Simon’s arm looped around her waist and pulled her back. A car whipped past them down the aisle. Simon yelled out a curse. 

“Sorry.” He let go of her. She could feel his arm around her, constricting muscle that lifted her up off her feet. Her body felt hot under her coat and sweater even though her face chilled with the wind. 

He honked the horn and she hurried into the car. 

“You walk all this way?”

“I did. Still do sometimes. When Johnny’s not around.”

“Old boyfriend wouldn’t drive you?”

“Never around much before…” She made a vague gesture to her neck with a grimace. She still thought about him on occasion and not always in a negative way. She did care about him up until the moment. 

“I’ll drive you until we can clean Johnny’s car.” No discussion. 

Nina and Johnny put the groceries away while Simon took the chemicals and bin bags to the stable. He said it would take a couple hours to clean up. Johnny volunteered to make dinner and then quickly asked Nina for help. 

The rain continued through the afternoon. She found Johnny napping in his room. She watched from the doorway for a moment. She was trying to not think about Simon. How his arm felt, how he smelled, how his eyes felt as forceful as his hands. 

“Need something, bon?” Johnny asked, not opening his eyes. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“Could smell ya before I heard ya.” He beckoned her over lazily. She climbed onto the bed and tucked herself into his side. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I want to fuck.” She rested her chin on his chest. He opened his eyes and smirked at her. 

It was easiest if she was on top, careful of his stitches. Her skirt hiked up to her hips and her sweater bunched up above her breasts. Johnny pinched and tugged on her nipples as she stroked his cock. 

“So pretty.” He smiled up at her. It was so easy with him, so nice. He looked at her like he got off on her pleasure rather than resenting it. His touch was delicate and precise. Quick circles around her clit. His finger slid between her folds, she was wet for him. “There we go, my pretty girl.”

He held her hand as she lowered herself onto his cock. Their moans harmonizing sweetly. 

“Johnny Johnny Johnny.” Rosemary. He smelled like rosemary and sweat. He was holding her hand and he smelt like rosemary. He was rubbing her clit and calling her pretty. They didn’t even bother with a condom this time. She wanted him to finish inside her. She wanted to know what it felt like. She wouldn’t call it love but it was close enough. Pushing her closer to the edge. “Oh fuck. Johnny! Please Please Please!”

Cedar…She held it in her head for a brief moment and then it was gone. Johnny’s hands held firm on her hips, holding her up as she came. He thrusted upwards, groaning loudly as he came. He tucked her in against his side, fingers playing with her hair.

“You okay, Nina?”

She nodded and kissed his chest. They stayed like that till the late afternoon. Simon pushed out of her head and away from her. 

She took a cold shower, alone. Her hand finding itself between her legs again, thinking of Johnny and Simon. Johnny with Simon. Simon with her. Johnny with Simon and her. She came so hard she almost fell over. She rested her forehead against the tile and let the water beat down on her back. Her mouth was dry. 

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness @pssytrux

Lmk if you want to be added ❤️

[sainzfilm]

🍬 peppermint kisses - toto wolff 🍬

summary: spending christmas eve at a local coffee shop around the area seemed lonely for a stranger passing by you at the window. but maybe, it’s not so lonely when a stranger takes a seat across you.

taglist: @svechyaho @squderia @idkiwantchocolatee @koufaxx @melonunicornbby @myescapefromthislife @slut-era @pachiibatt @estevries @dan3avocado @sidcrosbyspuck @barzysreputation @verclercswiftie @mick2mercedes

check out my winter wonderland celebration!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Shivering from the cold, you shoved your free hand inside your pocket and held the phone to your ear as your best friend talked your ear off, “You know, you should’ve come with me to a tropical country for Christmas!”

“Oh please, Monaco has been in my bucket list for the longest time,” You replied, “Plus! A sense of independence would be nice.”

“Sure it is, Y/N,” She laughed through the phone, “Who knows if you’re just looking for your dream man over there.”

Rolling your eyes as you carefully crossed the street, you mumbled, “I’ve only been here for two days, I haven’t gone scouting.”

“Then you better go,” Jess exclaimed, laughing softly, “I gotta go now. I’ll see you next year, I love you! Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“I will, and you’re going to see me soft launch him on Instagram,” You lightly teased, “Merry Christmas, Jess. See you, love you!”

As you put your phone back in your bag, you sighed and spotted a cozy little café at the far end of the street, deciding to make a beeline for it.

“Ah, the warmth,” You exhaled, taking off your scarf and walking up to the cashier to order, “Hm, one peppermint mocha hot chocolate and…a pain au chocolat, some macarons please.”

Quickly paying up, you wandered off to the bookshelf that was located across the counter and pulled off a random spine that appealed to you before finding a cozy spot by the café’s window.

Despite the fact that you were spending Christmas eve alone in a place that was absolutely foreign to you, it was pretty fascinating to see the locals. Children running after each other to go off on their little adventures or couples holding hands as they tread down the sidewalk to God knows where.

On the other hand, Toto was walking wherever his feet decided to take him. He didn’t have any plans for the holidays, which led him to wandering off to some place that he’d spend Christmas eve at.

Spotting a café across the street, Toto shrugged and walked towards it, immediately noticing you – a girl slicing her pain au chocolat while reading ‘The Godfather’ on the other hand. Maybe, he did have a plan for the holidays.

As Toto entered the café, he couldn’t help but take a quick glance at you – eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as you took a bite of the French pastry and mouthed the words that you read. He smiled to himself and ordered his usual at other cafés, a black coffee and a croissant.

“Excusez moi mademoiselle,” Toto cleared his throat, putting his hands behind his back, “Est-ce que cette place est occupée?” Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?

“Huh?” You looked up from your book, frowning in confusion, “I’m not French, so…I can’t understand what you just said.”

“Oh, my bad,” Toto chuckled nervously, mentally hitting himself straight on the forehead, “I was wondering if this seat is taken?”

“Uh, not at all actually,” You smiled sheepishly, coming to realization that an attractive man had approached you, “Feel free to do so.”

“Thank you, I couldn’t help but notice the book you’re reading,” He smiled, pointing at your book and taking a seat, “A favorite of mine, as well as the film adaptation.”

“Not to burst your bubble but,” You exhaled, setting the book down and shrugging, “I haven’t seen the film.”

Toto blinked a few times from your statement, now feeling a little rusty on how he could make a move on a pretty girl, “You should see it sometime. One of the greatest films ever made, alongside the second one. The third was not so…great.”

“Seeing how passionate you are, I’ll take your word for it,” You grinned, reaching over to hold out your hand, “My name’s Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Toto smiled, promptly shaking your hand and feeling a surge of what teenagers would call ‘sparks’ go through him, “I’m Toto.”

Leaning back against the chair and taking a sip of your hot chocolate, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “So, what brings you here to this café at Christmas eve?”

“Just thought it was beautiful,” He replied with somewhat of a lie, “You? I’m assuming you’re not from Monaco.”

“Yeah, I’m not from around here,” You nodded with a smile, “I wanted to check out the park, but it was chilly, so I opted to warm up with hot chocolate.”

“I can tell, you’ve got something over here,” Toto muttered, reaching over to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb and sitting back, “All good.”

Freezing for a moment, you thanked the universe that the weather could be the reason behind your flushed face right now.

“So, uh, since you’re already here,” You cleared your throat, setting down your empty cup, “Do you maybe…want to welcome Christmas together? Since you’re alone, I’m alone – it’s a win-win, I’m rambling.”

“Sounds great, looks like Santa came in early with my gift,” Toto grinned, stealing a macaron from your plate, “Tell me about yourself.”

With less than an hour until midnight, it was surprising that the two of you have not run out of topics to talk about. You took a bite of the croissant and laughed, “So you’re saying that you’re a hit amongst younger women? Especially on social media?”

“That’s what my friend tells me,” Toto chuckled, raising his hands, “It’s the charm, I’m telling you.”

“Sure, the charm,” You teasingly mocked him with air quotes, “So you’re saying you charmed me? By asking if this seat was taken?”

“To be fair, I was enamored,” He crossed his arms with small smile, “Plus, I am a little rusty if I were to be honest.”

“Don’t flatter me, Toto,” You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes before checking the clock behind him, “You wanna…take a walk to the park? It’s nearly midnight.”

Toto turned around in his chair to check the clock before turning back to you with a smile, standing up, “Let’s go.”

Grabbing your coat, you walked out of the café with Toto walking beside you and exhaled, “It feels like it’s way colder now.”

“It’s not that bad, Y/N,” Toto nudged your shoulder playfully, “I can be your human heater.”

“Oh jeez,” You laughed, punching his shoulder playfully and taking a deep breath before grabbing his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, “There. You’re hinting at it anyway.”

“Getting bold over there, hm?” He teased, secretly enjoying the fact that a pretty girl was holding his hand, “Is it Christmas now?”

“In about three minutes,” You smiled, standing in the middle of the park’s pathway that was lit up with Christmas lights, “Park’s pretty empty, I guess people are in their homes.”

“Well, that makes this moment a lot better,” He chuckled softly, standing in front of you, “Don’t hate me after midnight?”

Raising an eyebrow, you replied, “Why would I?”

As Toto heard the churches bells ring altogether, he took a deep breath and held your face, leaning in to kiss you passionately as fireworks and cheers erupted around the city. Your heart picked up its pace, wrapping your arms around his neck and doing the ‘foot pop’ as Mia Thermopolis from The Princess Diaries described.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” Toto pulled away with a soft smile, rubbing his thumbs on your cheeks tenderly, “Your lips taste like peppermint.”

“What a way to ruin the moment,” You laughed and leaned your forehead against his chest before looking back up at him with a smile, “Merry Christmas, Toto.”

“Okay, let me un-ruin the moment,” He grinned, pulling you in for another one and holding you by your waist, “One more.”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Sixteen.

Here it is, besties. The final chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read and offer such warm words of encouragement along the way. They mean the world to me! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,910

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

“So, where has the ginger twat taken my granddaughter today, then?” 

Rin closed her eyes, counting to ten in her head. “Woburn Safari Park. She told him how much she was missing all the animals back in Africa, so he said he’d take her to where she could see a few of the same.”  

It was becoming tiresome, her mother’s unchanged attitude regarding the father of her child. “Mum, you honestly have to stop being so hostile towards him. It shan’t be good, going forward, with him being in our lives to the extent that he will be. I’m not asking you to like him, but a little civility wouldn’t go amiss.”  

Diane was resolute, crispy turning the next page in the copy of Hello magazine before her on the island. “I will never be anything close to civil with that piece of shit.”  

This did not bode well. Not since she and Sean were... well, Rin wasn’t entirely sure what they were, exactly. Dating? Co-parenting with extras until he earned her trust? They’d been out a couple of times by that point, two dates the week before, one that had ended up in a sleepover at his place. Not that they’d slept much. God, he’d given her such a thorough shagging, she was still glowing from it four days on.  

Yes. It was dating, she had to admit that it was. Furthermore, she was enjoying every second of it, when her guard slipped enough for her to do so.  

“It’s a pity that you can’t put your own feelings aside for Tiger’s sake,” she spoke, continuing to do her stretches. She and Sokoro were off for a run, Rin glad to have a Saturday morning to herself to do it at a reasonable hour for once, enjoying a blissful lie in until 8am that morning as opposed to being out of the house by 6am.  

Her mother viewed her through shrewd eyes, cocking her head slightly. “Is it purely for Tiger’s sake, Catherine?” The slight colouring of her daughter’s cheeks sealed it, though Rin did not utter a single word. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! You’re not, are you? With him?” 

She was not in the mood for verbal combat that morning, but it looked like she was about to foray into it all the same. “I am, yes. I’m seeing how it goes with him. He’s genuinely sorry, mum, and I do see that. I need to get to a place of trust with him, though, and he told me he intends to prove himself there.” 

“But what he did to you!” 

“Is seven years in the past,” she interjected with, lifting her leg to the stool before her to tighten her shoelaces. “He would have absolutely nothing to gain from trying to be nefarious all over again. He has what he wants. I elevated him, made him rich and powerful once more, and he knows only too well what would happen to him, should he attempt to upset the apple cart. I do believe he is earnest, but I want to see if for myself.” 

Diane snorted, lifting her coffee cup to her lips. “I think you’re barmy.” 

“Yeah?” Lifting her chin, she pulled the laces sharply, double knotting the bow. “And I think, mum, with all the respect in the world, it’s none of your bloody business. Look how far I’ve come under my own merit and judgement. I am not an eighteen-year-old any longer who fell in love with a man she shouldn’t have, a man who had the agenda of his father pressing upon him. Finn is gone; it’s just Sean now. Believe me, he isn’t his dad.”  

“Wouldn’t have lost it all in the first place if he was.” Rin realised that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with her mother, so simply kissed her cheek and told her she’d be back later, heading out to find Sokoro in the courtyard, lightly jogging in place.  

“Let us depart now, eh, boss? Let’s run past the palace, wave to the King and Queen on our way!” Ever since arriving in London, her dear friend had been hellbent on getting a glimpse of the royal family. He’d scared a poor woman half to death one time while in Waitrose, asking very loudly if she was the Princess of Wales. She had not been, merely bearing a very uncanny resemblance to Princess Catherine. 

“So, I hear you and your mother having shouting's this morning before we leave, eh?”  

Having shouting’s. How she loved his turns of phrase. “We were, yes. We indeed had words with one another.”  

“Over the ging... over Sean, yes?”  

She liked that, that at least Sokoro was trying hard not to be hostile towards the father of her child, no matter how protective he was of her and Tiger. “Yes, over Sean. She’s very hardheaded, my mother. What kills me is the fact I think even my dad would have softened by now, and you know how ferocious he could be.” 

Sokoro raised his eyebrows, wiping his clammy forehead on the back of his arm. “Kevin was nothing if not a force to be reckoned with, eh?” Pausing as they turned the corner, beginning to run down The Mall approaching Buckingham Palace, he then continued. “But I do agree, eh, I think that he would see how much he has taken to the role of Tiger’s father and not condemn him as your mother does. He ah, he did say something to me, back when she was a baby.”  

Immediately, she slowed, jogging in place. “What?” 

Sokoro looked uncomfortable, like he wished he’d have thought on his last sentence prior to its delivery. “Ah, I should probably not say, eh. Even though he is gone, I do not want to betray your father’s confidentiality.” 

“Bollocks,” she spoke strongly, her eyes widened a fraction. “I’m here, he’s not. Tell me.” 

Sokoro shook his head, his own in place jogging coming to a halt. “Okay, okay. We break here. It has been five kilometres.” Moving to a bench at the side of The Mall, he took a seat, swigging from his bottle of water.  

“Your father, after Tiger was born, he pull me aside and he tell me all about it, how she came to be, how Sean betrayed you, etcetera. He tell me he was not only heartbroken for you because he know you love the man who got you pregnant despite what you tell him to the contrary, but because he always like Sean.  

“He tell me he see him as perfect suitor for you, before all the shit with the sex video, eh. He tell me that if he ever could see you with anyone, it was Sean Wallace, because you are both so similar. But he say most of all, he see you with him because Sean would never stop you from being who you are. We stood outside of the lodge and I remember, he say he wanted to tell him about the baby, because he thought it might change him for the better, make him a good man for you again, but he would not do that to you, not ever. But he say it, Catherine.”  

His words hit her square in the chest, the opinion her father held in secret. He’d wanted them to be together, but for the sake of her heart in all its damage done by Sean, never told anyone that other than Sokoro. It left her feeling like something was opening up within her, letting the light in to where she had been shadowed and jaded for the last seven years.  

Her father, as it happened, was not as hardened as she’d thought. He’d seen the true Sean too at some point. He’d known that the man he was, and the one he was moulded into by Finn were truly not the same person.  

“Did he say anything else?” she pressed with, Sokoro shrugging lightly. 

“He say he hate him for what he did to you, this is natural of course, eh. But he also say he know he put him between a rock and a hard place, and with the weight of Finn Wallace bearing down on him, he know, and I quote, “the kid cracked under the pressure, and made my Catherine the fall when I doubt he really wanted to.” I think your dad, he see the same you do in Sean. A man who did what he did so he did not sink under the greater weight.”  

It was hard to take in, the enormity of what Sokoro was telling her. Part of her wanted to shred him to pieces verbally for keeping it from her for so long, but most of her saw clearly that he was simply being a man of his word. Her father had shared his thoughts in secret with him, and Sokoro was nothing if not a bona fide confidant.  

In all of this, her father’s opinion was something she had desperately wished she could call upon, to know if she was doing the right thing. Now, she had it. It wasn’t first hand, but she knew now that should her dear dad have still been with them, he’d have likely welcomed her and Sean finding a way back to one another. 

“Are you okay?”  

Sokoro’s question roused her from the daze she’d fallen into, Rin shaking herself with a small smile as she turned to him. “I am, you know. I really am.” 

“Come on, let us continue. I feel Queen Camilla at the windows waiting for my jolly smile and wave!” He nudged her with a soft elbow as she got up, laughing and sipping her water before on they continued towards the palace. Their jog landed them back at Mulford Hall just before 10:30am, both immediately heading upstairs to take a shower each, Rin returning to hear the usual Kenyan merriment in the kitchen. 

“What are you lot giggling about?” she asked, moving to the fridge to get out some fruit and yogurt, Sokoro, Marcus and Silas all sitting around the island, huge grins fixed in place. 

“We are discussing the slang of your motherland, boss,” Marcus spoke, still partially hissing with laughter. “We see on Twitter somebody call Donald Trump a fuck billed twattypus and we all say, it could have been you! It sounds like something you say!” 

“We learn so many British cusses from you. Knob, shit bag, twat, bloody fucking bastard,” Silas then weighed in with, counting them off on his fingers as he chuckled with glee.  

“Or when she call you twat waffles and you thought it is some kind of British breakfast cereal,” Sokoro chimed, Marcus waving his hands in dismissal as the men roared.  

“It sounds like it, though! I had no idea that twat was slang for the female anatomy until we met Catherine!” he laughed, Rin in absolute stitches as she closed the fridge door. They kept her entertained as she went about preparing her breakfast, Sokoro sorting himself and the other guys with gigantic vegetable omelettes and toast.  

With a day to herself, she decided to relax before her masseuse arrived, Jenna giving her a much-needed rub down and easing of tension from her locked up back, several knots clicking and cracking under her expert hands. It was a day of pure bliss, her child not arriving back until 7pm, Sean stating that he was also taking her to the museum and out for dinner as well, carrying a very sleepy Tiger into the house. He looked completely shattered himself.  

“I’ll take her,” Diane bustled coldly, fixing him with a glare. No, Rin’s words hadn’t sunk in any further. Luckily, Sean didn’t react with any negativity whatsoever. 

“Thank you, Diane. It’s nice to see you again, you’re looking very well.”  

She turned away from him, her lips slightly pursed. “I wish I could say the same.”  

He winced. “Ouch.”  

Rin reached for his face, giving him a kiss. “Maybe one day she might finally thaw.” While he expected as much from her mother, he did note that Rin seemed to be behaving more freely with him, making the first move to offer affection. “So, did you and our baby have a good day?”  

Right on cue, he yawned. “A tiring one. I’ve been up since 5am, she decided she couldn’t sleep so we took Butch for a walk for an hour, one I ended up carrying her on my back for half of before dropping him off with Minnie for the day.” Hugging her, he rested his chin on her head, Rin laughing softly at the fake snoring noises he began making. “She has abundant energy, though. I don’t know how you cope full time.” 

Emerging from beneath his chin, she smoothed her hands down his chest. “I’m used to it, as you’ll become, too. Can I get you a coffee before you fall asleep on me?” 

He nodded, kissing her forehead. “Please.”  

“Alright, go and rest your weary bones.” He moved to the sitting room and she the kitchen, taking a seat on the sofa and beginning to browse his phone. It might have been a Saturday night, he might have been shattered, but he had a few work-related emails he needed to at least check in with, planning on putting in some time the following morning in his office at home to be nicely ahead for the coming working week.  

“Oh, you’re here.” Looking up, he met the narrowed eyes of Diane, the matriarch of the Cavanaugh household taking a seat on the adjacent sofa, eyeing him with her usual level of distain. 

“Hello again, Diane,” he smiled, attempting to at least be cordial with the woman. The truth was, he had little to no issue with her, but goodness, she certainly gripped tightly upon the grudge she held towards him. “How are you?” 

“I’d be much better if you weren’t here.”  

He expected little less than such hostility, but knew he couldn’t meet it like for like. “I understand that, I do. I will be here, though, in your lives. Your daughter and granddaughter are very important to me.” 

She picked up a copy of Tatler magazine from the coffee table, huffing as the pages were flicked through with mild irritation. “Until the next chance to use her in your quest for power presents itself. Men like you don’t change, Sean.”  

He felt his temper flicker into life, the corner of his mouth twitching. He wouldn’t let her spark it into roaring flame, though. She was probably trying deliberately to wheedle such a response from him, purely so she could point her finger. “As I explained to Catherine, I am in no position to do that. Your daughter has elevated me to my former status, more so, in fact. I have my company, I have my standing, and I have a hell of a lucrative income because of her. I don’t truly have what I want the most, though. Trust me, fucking her over would not be conducive to me attaining it.” 

“Oh, wouldn’t it?” she spoke, each word biting in its chilly delivery.  

“No,” he spoke with a shrug, his smile widening, “because what I want most is her. I love your daughter, perhaps the most honestly and genuinely I have ever loved anyone. Trust me, my intentions towards her are not what you assume them to be. Far from it.” 

He didn’t know, but out in the corridor, Rin stood, coffee in hand, grinning like an idiot to hear him coolly standing up to her mother. She might have known it already, but hearing him state that what he wanted most was her almost provoked a squeak of pure joy.  

“Well, I shan’t be doing that any time soon, Sean,” she bustled, just as Rin walked in. 

“That’s up to you, I suppose,” he replied, taking the coffee from Rin. “Thank you, darling. I think I might need three more just to stay awake. So, are you still coming with me when I go back up to Manchester on Thursday? We could take Tiger too, make a weekend of it once I am done with Friday’s meetings. We could take her to the art gallery, with her flair for the artistic I’m sure she’d enjoy it.” 

She beamed widely. “Yes, great idea, I’d love to. It’ll mean getting her out of her pit early, I suppose. I was surprised you told me she’s been up since five this morning, that child loves her kip.” 

“Isn’t this all so very cosy,” Diane muttered sarcastically, shaking her head. “Forgetting conveniently what that vile shit of a man did to you.” 

Rin’s hand clenched into a fist where she rested it upon Sean’s thigh, her eyebrows knitting as she sighed. “Which is a mistake he both admits and apologises for, mum. I’ve let it go. You need to as well.” 

“I can’t! Not when...” she began, the Tatler magazine cast aside. She didn’t get very far in her retort, though.  

“Enough, mum,” her daughter spoke, with quiet firmness as she stared at her. “That’s seriously enough, now. I’m sick of dealing with your attitude. What happens between Sean and I is honestly none of your business, and I am fucking tired of you making it just that. This is my life, you need to but out and stop treating me like a child. That’s the end of it. Sean, come on. Let's move locations.”  

He stood gladly, taking his coffee and following her out without further word, Diane sitting there floundering at being shot down so efficiently by her eldest child. “We both stood our ground with her, and didn’t raise our voices once,” he observed, moving up the grand staircase beside her, pausing to gulp back a little more coffee, save it spilling and Diane becoming furtherly vexed towards him.  

Rin raised her eyebrows. “We must be growing up, at last.” Arriving in her bedroom, she swung the door open, walking through to where she’d had a little bit of a makeover of the large room, the former section dedicated to her desk and workout items over at the far side by her window now containing a small sofa and television set on the mantle above the fireplace. The space most definitely had more of a grown up feel to it than it had when Sean had been in there last. 

Sitting down beside her, he finished his coffee while they chatted on how best to handle her mother, both agreeing to be staunch without rising to her need to argue the toss constantly. The coffee was sadly no match for his tiredness, though, Sean waking with a start hours later to darkness, finding himself draped in a comfortable throw. The bed his sleeping love occupied looked much more comfortable.  

“I was wondering if I’d have a companion at some point,” she murmured, turning to cuddle up to his nakedness after he’d undressed and gotten under the covers. “What time is it?” 

“Half past two. I’d say time to go back to sleep, but I’m wide awake.” 

She grinned into the darkness as his hands felt their way to her, pulling her even closer, lifting her leg to rest over his hip. “Mmm,” she hummed, feeling the hard of his cock press against her abdomen. “Yes, you definitely are, aren’t you?” Her hand reached between them, curling around his cock, working him lazily as she felt the sleepiness slipping away, ducking her head to begin placing hot, open-mouthed kisses upon his neck.  

He lay there in a daze of sexual fog clouding him for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of what her hand evoked within before his own reached for her, stroking her softly, feeling her begin to dampen his fingers. Pushing them inside her, his mouth then founds hers, her teeth crushing a soft bite upon his lower lip. Those kisses, all sugared embers and need, began to gain rapid heat, hands working upon one another with more vigour until Sean turned her, slotting himself between her legs and arrowing into her fully with one fluid motion. 

She swallowed back his moans as their tongues swirled, her groin prickling pleasantly, nerve endings singing their bliss against the thick swell of his cock as he dragged her walls deftly. It was heavenly, wet velvet softly flexing around hot steel, their veins warming, Rin crying out softly at feeling him burying himself within her again and again.   

With his mouth at her neck, consuming her with such all-encompassing force, all that existed was him, that moment, the sound of his groans in her ear as his tongue glided across the column of her throat. Him, just him. He was all she wanted, and to hell with what her mother thought of that. 

Trembling against the lean bulk of his chest, the lightning bounced beneath her skin, the weight of him centring, driving himself into her plush wetness, causing moans she barely recognised to be hers. How she had longed for a lover with this kind of skill while they’d been parted, but beneath him there in her bed, she realised she could look forever but never find in a single other person what she had with Sean. 

His hips arrowed down purposefully, giving way to a slight rotation that had her floating in the stars, her fingers raking through his hair as she arched up against him, teeth nipping his thick shoulder as her nails grazed his back, digging in and clawing when he began to gain momentum.   

She was molten beneath him, singed by the wildfire of his fuck, her walls beginning to flutter around him as his soaking cock pounded her hard, mouth lowering to suck at her nipples, making her come apart beneath him with surging force, Sean coming just moments after her.  

They fell asleep that night entangled, swathed in the blanket of one another, Rin awaking early the following morning. The sunlight streamed in, the sound of the Westminster bells softly tolling, yawning as she stretched. Looking up, she was greeted by the sight of smiling blue eyes, shifting up a little to place a soft kiss upon his lips.  

There they were again, just as they had been seven years before. Sunday morning, bell song and sunshine.  

“I love you.”  

He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. “Finally.”  

Finally, indeed.  

Finally, they had everything they’d been looking for. Finally, they had love and peace, and finally, although it took her almost two years after that morning to see that Sean was entirely genuine, they had Diane’s support. After all, the mother of the bride couldn’t very well have a sour face on at the wedding of her eldest daughter. Not after she’d bared witness to seeing just how happy the man waiting for her at the altar had truly made her.  

In fact, Diane’s tears of joy as they were pronounced husband and wife were the greatest of all the guests, watching Rin held tightly by her new husband, and the complete and utter adoration they viewed one another with. Neither noticed it, though, lost in one another as they kissed, Sean stroking her face with his thumbs as he rested his forehead to hers, repeating the word he had spoken two years prior, when they had truly reconnected. 

“Finally.” 

The End.