#i will forever be his number one fan and i NEED to find out who’s doing the score cause i just fell in love with his way of storytelling

[chelseasdagger]

if john paesano isn’t doing the score for daredevil: born again i will be absolutely crushed

[spectorgram]

FAN BEHAVIOR

characters: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake summary: batboys with a celebrity! reader content/warnings: fem! reader, fluff

DICK GRAYSON

You’re an actress who has had a meteoric rise, moving from doing small, one-off parts in TV shows to becoming a breakout star on a particularly popular series to being cast in major movie productions

Your stardom is still a little surreal to you and when you’re invited to a wayne enterprise charity gala, you contemplate not going — what business do you have being somewhere with people far more famous than you? But when you tell your agent this, she gives you a look that says you’re insane for even considering declining

You’ll forever be grateful that she urged you to do so because that’s where you meet Dick

He’s standing with Bruce Wayne, chatting with some frequent donors, dressed in a perfectly-tailored navy blue suit when he sees you out of the corner of his eye and he lights up. He approaches you first with that megawatt smile and introduces himself with an extended hand and says, “I’m a huge fan! I’ve been watching your stuff since you were in Legends of the Kingdom!” And the rest is history

Dick goes to every red carpet event you invite him to and he makes it a point to attend every private premiere screening and public opening night

He definitely shushes anyone who talks during your movies or TV shows and does not care if people think he’s obnoxious.

You’re definitely the ‘it couple’ and your faces are plastered constantly on magazine covers and two-page spreads

There are people who try to sow discord in your relationship and their go-to is either pointing out how different you are to Dick’s former girlfriends; that you’re not his type, that this isn’t going to last, etc., or that you’re not talented enough for the fame you have or to be dating Dick Grayson

It definitely gets to you and does nothing to whatever lingering imposter syndrome you harbor but Dick is such a grounding force, reminding you that it’s all just noise and that he loves you completely and unconditionally

At home, he likes to rewind your scenes in shows and movies, and it flatters you as much as it flusters you

He also likes to read through scripts with you when he can and his voices for the various other characters bring you to tears from laughter 

So many intentional and unintentional thirst trap couples pics. Like, a selfie you post one morning — Dick is shirtless and you’re in one of his old t-shirts and its sliding down your shoulder and showing your collarbone and you’re both laying on your stomachs in your shared bed, hair sleep (and sex) tousled with the morning sun making both of you look like you’re golden and glowing 

JASON TODD

You meet Jason as Red Hood first when you’re running from the paparazzi but you don’t know it’s him

They chase you down a couple of blocks before someone tugs you into an alleyway and you’re about to scream for help when you see who it is. Red Hood shields you as the paparazzi pass and when you ask him why he helped you, he simply says, “I hate the paps and you looked like you needed a hand.”

Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he walks you back to your hotel using the back alleys of Gotham. You make several attempts to strike a conversation up with him in the first few minutes of your walk but what seems to catch his interest is when you start rambling on about just finishing Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. 

You’re disappointed when you arrive at your hotel and you’re rush inside to find a pad to scribble your number on but he’s gone when you return, disappearing into the night

It’s by chance that you meet him again (unbeknownst to you), this time in his civilian identity as Jason Todd. You’re in disguise at a bookstore in Gotham when you bump into him and spill his iced coffee all over both of you, apologizing profusely and offering to buy him another drink, which he accepts. (His voice is oddly familiar to you but you can’t put your finger on why) 

You two keep in touch and start dating privately. The long-distance is difficult at times given your very different and busy schedules and Jason is pretty cagey about what he does but you both make time for each other as much as possible

He tells you that he listens to your music during his workouts and in the background while he’s doing stuff around his apartment. He hums along too.

He recommends your songs to anyone who listens, which raises suspicions in the Batfam, and it obviously doesn’t take long for them to figure out that he’s dating you but he makes them promise to keep it to themselves. 

Whenever you have a concert in Gotham, which you make a point to do frequently, Jason is in the VIP box, bobbing his head and mouthing along to your songs. When it ends, he’s right there backstage with flowers and a thermos of tea for your throat

Your relationship goes public when fans capture of video of you two leaving one of your concerts together, Jason’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders

You eventually move to Gotham to be closer to him and the two of you spend every free moment either of you have together, making up for lost time. 

You still try to keep your relationship as private as possible but fans eat up any crumbs they get, including the occasional selfie of you both 

He is your biggest inspiration for songs and also your biggest help. You love bouncing ideas off of him and he likes sitting with you when you pick at your guitar strings and mumble a half-formed melody

(You eventually do find out that he’s Red Hood when he tumbles through the window of your bedroom, bleeding profusely, and you have to take his helmet off to assess the damage)

TIM DRAKE

You’ve known Tim since you were kids given that your parents ran in the same social circles

You started out as a child model in department store clothing catalogs. Tim did some shoots with you too but while his parents eventually stopped auditioning him for such jobs, you continued until the present day, and you’re now a well-known supermodel 

You two have been friends forever and the internet laps up your interactions together. There are compilations of videos and photos of the two of you at banquets and red carpet events and memes with text like “when will someone look at me like that?”

Before you two even started dating, there were articles about a supposed romance and sexual tension between you two. In interviews, you would vehemently deny anything asked about it and reiterate that you two are just good friends

At some point, however, you start seeing your childhood friend in a different light. He’s kind, brilliant, funny, attentive, and very handsome. It’s not that you didn’t know that before but it’s different now. You find yourself shying away his casual touches and suddenly conscious of your actions around him — did you laugh too loud? Is your hair in your face? Does he know how you feel? Can he tell?

You don’t want to ruin your friendship, as cliche as it sounds, so you did your best to keep your feelings under wraps, which resulted in you distancing yourself. When Tim would text to congratulate you on your latest Vogue cover or runway show, you would simply shoot a simple ‘thanks!’ text back instead of the usual ‘THANK U’ followed by five heart emojis. 

He confronts you about it one day and you’ve never really been a good liar in front of him so you tell him, bracing for a gentle rejection but instead receiving a kiss. 

You made a hard launch post with him on Instagram and received hundreds of DMs of people saying they were vindicated in believing that “friends don’t look at each other like that”

Tim is in the front row at every single runway show you have, dressed impeccably in an expensive suit. He takes pictures of you and visits you backstage with your favorite sweet treat.

After fashion shows and other events, you return to his apartment to let your hair down and put your feet up. You do your skincare routines together, sheet face mask and all, and snuggle on the couch for some TV or just to hang out and talk endlessly

You’re very active on social media with him and you two have a lot of couples posts together. When you both have time, you do Instagram lives where people watch you two make dinner together or answer some questions from viewers. A fan favorite is when you choose outfits for each other.

During a runway, you blow a kiss at Tim in the audience and the camera zooms in on his face, where he just watches you with a lovestruck expression and bright red ears — it’s in almost every video compilation that’s titled something like ‘15 minutes of Tim Drake being a simp’

[pucksandpower]

Legends Never Die

Carlos Sainz x Senna!Reader

Summary: sometimes the hole in your heart left behind by the passing of your father becomes almost too much to bear, but Carlos and his family never fail to ease the ache

Brazilian Grand Prix, 2023

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you step out onto the podium at Interlagos after winning your home race — the Brazilian Grand Prix — for McLaren.

You wave to the sea of fans, trying to keep your emotions in check. But it’s impossible. Everywhere you look there are reminders of your father.

Fans wave Brazilian flags emblazoned with his iconic yellow and green helmet. Others wear t-shirts bearing his name and race number. Signs reading “Senna Forever” make your chest tighten.

He’s everywhere … except where you need him most. In your memories.

You were just a baby when he died in that fateful accident at Imola in 1994. You only know the sound of his voice through crackling video footage, his infectious smile from yellowing photographs. But you don’t actually remember him. Your own father, the man whose immense legacy you carry on your shoulders each time you slide into the cockpit of a Formula 1 car.

By the time the national anthem plays and the champagne corks pop, you can barely see through the tears welling in your eyes. You blink them back rapidly, hoping the cameras don’t pick up on your emotional state. As soon as the ceremony ends, you practically run off the podium, heading straight for the sanctuary of your driver’s room.

You barely make it through the door before the sobs start wracking your body. You sink down onto the couch, drawing your knees up and burying your face in your hands as the tears flow freely.

How can you feel so alone when surrounded by so many who loved him?

A soft knock at the door cuts through your cries. You know immediately who it is without having to ask.

“Come in,” you manage to choke out, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks.

The door opens and there’s Carlos, looking concerned but unsurprised to find you in this state. Of course he knows. By now, he can likely sense when these waves of emotion are about to crash over you.

Carlos crosses the room and settles onto the couch, gathering you into his arms. You immediately curl against his chest, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. One of his hands comes up to soothingly stroke your hair as the other rubs circles across your back.

“Let it out, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m here.”

The gentleness in his voice is your undoing. You let out a gasping sob, tears soaking through the material of his firesuit as you finally allow yourself to unravel completely in his embrace.

“I-I don’t remember him,” you hiccup between harsh breaths. “I w-won my home race and all I could see out there were ghosts. He was everywhere b-but in my own mind!”

“Shh, I know,” Carlos soothes, rubbing your back. “I know it hurts, mi vida. But he’s here.” He places his palm over your heart. “Your dad lives in here, just like you live in his.”

You lift your head, seeking out his warm brown eyes through your tear-blurred vision. “How can you be so sure? I don’t have a single first-hand memory of him. I know Ayrton Senna the legend, but not my own father.”

A small, sad smile tugs at the corner of Carlos’s lips. “Because that’s how it is for all of us who didn’t get the chance to really know him.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear trailing down your cheek. “We keep him alive in our hearts through the way he inspired us, the lives he touched without ever realizing it. And for you ...” His expression turns amazed, eyes shining with an emotion you can’t quite place. “For you, he’s here.” He runs his hands over the sides of your body, splaying his fingers wide. “A part of him lives on, in you and through you each time you drive. You embody everything he represented behind the wheel — passion, adrenaline, an unquenchable desire to be the best. That’s your father’s legacy beating within you.”

You stare at him, trying to make sense of the jumbled tempest of feelings swirling inside you. Part of you wants to protest, to insist your longing for a tangible connection to your father can’t be satisfied by philosophical musing.

And yet … Carlos’ words reverberate within you, striking a chord. You think of the split-second decision making, the fearless way you attack corners, your refusal to ever give any less than your full effort.

Those are all traits you’ve been told time and time again you inherited from Ayrton. And maybe Carlos is right — maybe that is how you’ll know him best in this life.

Slowly, you reach up to cradle Carlos’ face in your palms, searching his caring gaze. “How did I get so lucky?” You whisper, a few rogue tears spilling over. “To have someone who understands me, understands this hole in my life, and loves me enough to fill it as best he can?”

The look of utter adoration on Carlos’ face steals your breath. Gently, he leans in to capture your lips in the softest, sweetest of kisses. The tenderness, the depth of emotion in that one simple gesture is enough to make your knees go weak.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “I’m the lucky one, mi amor,” he murmurs, the words ghosting across your lips. “To be loved by you ...” He shakes his head slowly in seeming awe of you. “You make me feel blessed every day just by letting me share in your existence.”

You let out a watery laugh, rolling your eyes but unable to fight the giddy smile blooming across your face. Trust Carlos to somehow make you feel like the luckiest, most special person in the world after you’ve just spent who knows how long crying on his shoulder.

“You big sap,” you tease, booping him on the nose. You search his expression, your chest filling with warmth at the laughter lines crinkling around his eyes. “I love you, you know that right?”

The words hang there, heavy and significant. You realize you’ve never actually said them before, not with such simple yet loaded sincerity.

From the look of surprise and unbridled joy that overtakes Carlos’ features, he realizes it too. His hands come up to cradle your face, fingers threading through your hair as he holds you tenderly.

“Mi alma ...” he breathes out reverently. “Te amo, mi vida. I love you with all my heart.”

The depth of emotion in his voice, the Spanish words of love and adoration tumbling from his lips, it’s all too much. You surge forward, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss as the last of your tears, these born of happiness and love rather than sorrow, streak down your cheeks.

Carlos kisses you back with an intensity that leaves you lightheaded. His fingers tighten almost possessively in your hair as the kiss deepens, growing more heated and passionate. You’re vaguely aware of him shifting until you’re nearly in his lap, bodies aligned and thrumming with a very different kind of electricity than you’re used to on the track.

Eventually, the need for air becomes too insistent to ignore. You break apart, both of you panting heavily. Carlos’ lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown wide. He looks like a man thoroughly ravished.

You can’t help the impish grin. “So I take it you feel the same way?”

His laugh is low and gravelly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh mi amor ...” he rumbles, nuzzling his nose against yours. “You have no idea.”

You bite your lip, about to suggest taking this celebration elsewhere more private. But a new thought suddenly occurs, giving you pause. Slowly, almost shyly, you meet his heated gaze.

“Carlos … do you really think he would be proud of me?” The uncertainty in your voice is painfully obvious. “My father, I mean. You think he’s ...” You swallow hard. “You think he’s watching over me and approving of the person I’ve become?”

The seriousness of your question douses some of the blazing desire in Carlos’ eyes. But it’s quickly replaced by a look of such fierce conviction, such affection for you, it makes your breath catch.

“Cariño,” he begins, voice thick with emotion as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “Your father was the embodiment of passion and integrity in the pursuit of greatness. On the track, he gave everything. He put his heart and soul into being the best driver, the best competitor he could be. And that’s exactly what I see when I watch you race.”

Carlos leans in, resting his forehead against yours as his fingers tenderly trace the line of your jaw. “You drive with the same fire, the same refusal to let anything less than your full ability shine through. And off the track?” He lets out a soft huff of laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, let’s just say the determination, the sheer force of will I see in you would make any parent proud.”

You bite your lip, struggling against the swell of emotion building in your chest at his words. “Really? You don’t think he’d be … disappointed? That I’m not living up to his legacy or-”

“Hey.” Carlos cuts you off firmly, holding your gaze. “Your father didn’t just leave a legacy of winning championships or setting records, mi amor. He left a legacy of spirit. Of personality. Of being a loving, passionate human being who inspired millions.” His thumb strokes along your cheekbone as his eyes shine with complete sincerity. “And let me tell you — in that way? You are so perfectly your father’s daughter it’s unreal.”

The tears that have been threatening finally spill over, but this time they are born of relief, of love and reassurance. You manage a watery smile, curling your hand around the back of Carlos’ neck to pull him close until your foreheads touch.

“Thank you,” you whisper fervently. “For understanding. For loving me through the shadows and the ghosts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His arms tighten around you, holding you flush against his body in an embrace filled with devotion. “Well, you’ll never have to find out,” he murmurs lowly, lips brushing tantalizingly against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

A delighted shiver runs through you at his tone, at the deliciously possessive edge to his promise. Shifting in his lap, you capture his lips in a searing kiss filled with all the love, the passion, the longing you’ve been holding at bay.

Carlos responds with equal fervor, one hand burying in your hair while the other maps searing paths across your back, your sides, pulling you ever closer until there’s no space between your bodies. The room seems to simultaneously tilt and burn away until there is only the two of you, tangled together in a heated spiral of want and need.

At some point, you become vaguely aware of Carlos rising to his feet, your legs winding instinctively around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly. Your back presses against the nearest wall and you moan softly into his mouth at the delicious friction. His hands are everywhere, stoking the fire burning through your veins with every scorching caress.

Finally, and reluctantly, you pull your lips from his with a gasp. “Carlos … if we don’t get out of here soon, I can’t be held responsible for what might happen.”

He grins wolfishly at you, pupils blown wide with desire. “Is that a promise, mi amor?” His voice is low, gravelly, and sends sparks of pure hunger fluttering through your stomach.

Holding his heated gaze, you slowly drag your nails down the back of his neck in a deliberate tease, relishing the way his eyes darken even further. “Take me home, Carlos,” you purr, leaning in to brush your lips against his once more. “And I’ll show you just how promising I can be.”

His response is to capture your mouth in another bruising kiss, pressing you harder against the wall as a growl rumbles up from deep in his chest. Then, without warning, he’s turning and striding towards the door, carrying you easily as your legs remain locked around his waist.

Breathless with wanting, you finally pull away as he reaches for the doorknob, laughing softly. “I see someone’s eager.”

Carlos’s eyes gleam with pure, undisguised hunger as he looks at you over his shoulder. “For you, mi alma?” He leans in, lips hovering tantalizingly close as his beard brushes your tingling skin. “Always.”

With that, he’s swinging the door open and striding out into the hallway, completely uncaring of who might see. His focus, his entire world, is solely on you in this moment. Just as yours is on him.

As the adrenaline of victory fades and the ache of longing for your absent father eases into a dull, familiar ache, you’re reminded once more of the incredible gift you’ve been given.

Carlos’ love, his understanding and acceptance of every broken, yearning part of you is a blessing. One you vow never to take for granted.

Winding your arms securely around his neck, you let yourself get lost in the heat of his gaze, the depth of emotion shining there. And you realize — with him, you don’t feel so alone.

Even if your father isn’t here in person, some piece of him does live on. Not in memories or old recordings. But in the love you hold in your heart. The love you pour into everything you do, every dream you dare to chase. The love that connects you to Carlos so wholly.

Maybe, just maybe, your father is prouder than either of you can fathom as he watches the remarkable life you’ve created together unfold.

Smiling softly, you lean in to feather a kiss along the sharp line of Carlos’ jaw, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Take me home, meu amor.”

Australian Grand Prix, 2024

The podium ceremony is pure pandemonium. Carlos stands on the top step, beaming and cheering, having just claimed his first win of the new season. You’re on the second step beside him, arm raised in celebration of your own P2 finish. The energy from the crowd is electric, filling your veins with the same adrenaline rush as when you crossed the finish line.

You should be deliriously happy. Scoring such a strong result alongside your boyfriend at the third race is the dream start to your championship chase. And yet … something feels off. A strange melancholy tugs at the corner of your heart even as the champagne sprays and camera flashes bombard you from all angles.

Then you spot him — Carlos’ father, beaming at his son from the front of the crowd gathered below the podium. His chest is puffed out with undisguised pride, eyes crinkled at the corners behind his designer shades.

As you watch, father and son’s gazes meet and lock, and the sheer depth of emotion in that one look breaks something inside you.

Oh.

That’s what’s missing.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, stealing your breath. You barely register the Spanish national anthem playing as your eyes stay glued to the tender scene before you.

Carlos shooting his father a brilliant grin, chin dipping in acknowledgment of the pride shining through. Carlos Sr.’s face split by the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. It’s such a simple gesture, but one utterly steeped in parental pride.

You should look away before it gets to be too much, but some masochistic part of you can’t tear your gaze from the heartwarming display. Seeing that effortless bond between father and son, witnessing their silent communication and affection laden with years of inside jokes and childhood memories … it awakens a hollow ache, one you’re terribly familiar with.

By the time the ceremony finally winds down, hot tears are stinging your eyes. You blink rapidly, ducking your head in hopes that the dark tint of your sunglasses conceals your fragile state. But of course, Carlos notices immediately.

He pauses mid-celebration, halfway through accepting some prize filled with the event sponsor’s product. Frowning, he leans in close under the pretense of thanking you for pushing him all the way. “Mi alma? What’s wrong?”

You nearly choke on your own breath at the naked concern in his voice. Trust Carlos to pick up on your inner turmoil even in the middle of what should be an incredibly joyous occasion. Steeling yourself, you manage a smile that you hope passes as genuine.

“Nothing, I’m just ...” Your excuse dies in your throat as you look past him towards the crowd once more.

Carlos Sr. is shouldering his way through the mass of staff and media, pushing towards his son. He’s waving and grinning from ear to ear as Carlos straightens up, delight overtaking his features. The second the older Sainz’s feet cross the barriers, Carlos drops everything and bounds over, hauling his father into a tight embrace.

They laugh and cheer as Carlos pumps a victorious fist in the air, the other arm wrapped securely around Carlos Sr. You can’t hear what they’re saying over the noise of the crowd, but it doesn’t matter. Their body language says it all.

Pride. Joy. Celebration. A bond forged in the fires of hardship and sacrifice, of a lifetime pursuing the most elite level of a deadly sport.

Father and son, reveling together in the sweetness of hard-earned success.

Your throat constricts painfully as you watch them, your own arms wrapping protectively around your middle. How many times had you dreamed of recreating this exact moment as a young girl? Crossing the chequered line in first place, only to be swept up in a boundless hug by a beaming, triumphant father?

You remember pretending with your childhood race cars, standing on an overturned bucket that served as your make-believe podium. You’d mimic the anthems and champagne sprays, then launch yourself off the “top step“ and into the arms of an imaginary Ayrton, dreaming about what it would feel like to bury your face in his shoulder as he swung you around, both of you dissolving into happy laughter as you celebrated together.

Of course, those were only childish fantasies even then. By the time you were old enough to understand racing, to grasp what your father did and meant to the world, he was already long gone. You never got the chance to make those podium daydreams a reality.

And you never would.

The harsh truth is like a bucket of ice water over your head. You’re vaguely aware of your sunglasses slipping down your nose as your eyes burn with unshed tears. Angrily, you blink them back, steeling your jaw.

Now is not the time.

You plaster on the brightest smile you can muster as Carlos and his father turn back towards you. Throwing propriety to the wind, Carlos Sr. comes up to engulf you in a tight hug, the scratch of barely-there stubble rasping against your cheek.

“Another stellar drive, mariposa,” he praises in his thick, warm accent as Carlos laughs in delight beside you. “Keeping this one on his toes, I see.”

Despite your fragile emotional state, you can’t help but grin at his spirit and affection. “Always,” you reply, squeezing him back firmly before pulling away to make room for Carlos.

Almost automatically, you take a step back to give them space. You have no wish to intrude on what should be their private moment together. And sure enough, no sooner have you retreated than Carlos is wrapping his arm around his father’s shoulders, guiding him towards the edge of the pit lane where Ferrari representatives are waiting.

You hang back, a sad smile playing across your lips as you watch them go. All the teasing and laughing, the play-fights and unbreakable bonds of family you wish you could have experienced for yourself play out in vivid detail before your eyes.

Off to the side, almost like an afterthought despite your place right beside him on the podium. Just … watching.

Slowly, you turn away, the roar of the fans and celebrations fading into the distance as you head up the ramp to the McLaren motorhome.

A thousand wistful memories drift through your mind. Muted footage of you as a newborn cradled in your father’s arms, grinning up at him in pure innocence and adoration. Photos of Ayrton gazing down at his infant daughter with a look of such unconditional love that it breaks you all over again.

No matter how many trophies you win or records you break, that will always be the one achievement he never had the chance to witness. You’ll never experience a father’s unadulterated pride at his child’s success.

Your breath hitches as you finally reach the solitude of your private room, sinking onto the plush sofa as the tears begin rolling in earnest. Who are you kidding? As much as Carlos and his family envelop you in their warmth, as much as you are unquestionably part of their clan now … there is always going to be an empty space in your heart where a father’s love should be.

You bury your face in your hands, ignoring the wet streaks smearing across your knuckles as you try in vain to compose yourself. You can’t be like this, falling apart every time. Carlos deserves to revel in one of the greatest wins of his career. He shouldn’t have to devote energy to consoling you, not after a spectacular drive like that.

A soft knock at the door startles you. Swiping hastily at your cheeks, you suck in a shuddering breath and call out. “Come in.”

The door opens, and of course, it’s Carlos. Because even in the midst of unbridled jubilation, he senses your inner turmoil. He steps inside, the happiness draining from his expression as he takes in your blotchy complexion and reddened eyes.

“Mi amor,” he breathes, crossing to you in two quick strides and gathering you into his arms. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his sweat-damp race suit as he rubs soothing circles across your back. “Talk to me, cariño. What’s got you so upset, hmm?”

You want to explain, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you simply shake your head, a few errant tears slipping free to wet the material covering his shoulder. Carlos doesn’t push, just holds you close and lets you cry it out against him.

Eventually, you find your voice, thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your celebration like this. You should be out there enjoying your win, not consoling your mess of a girlfriend.”

“Hey now,” he chides gently, tipping your chin up to meet his concerned gaze. “None of that, mi alma. Your feelings are never something to apologize for.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear from your cheek. “I know today was … difficult. Seeing me with my dad, it brought up a lot of old hurts, didn’t it?”

You let out a watery chuckle, amazed as always by his intuition when it comes to your innermost struggles. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows and loves every facet of you,” he replies simply, stroking your hair back from your forehead. “Will you tell me? Let me in on what you’re feeling so I can try to understand?”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nod and disentangle yourself enough to sit beside him on the couch. You keep one of his hands linked with yours, anchoring you as you gather your thoughts. “It’s just … out there on the podium, when I saw you and your dad together ...” You pause, blinking rapidly against a fresh swell of tears. “It reminded me all over again of what I’m missing. What I’ll never get to have.”

Carlos’ expression softens with understanding and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, silently urging you to continue. You draw strength from his presence beside you.

“You two have this … bond. This connection, like you’re the only ones who truly understand each other’s perspectives. And I’m envious, Carlos. So envious of the lifetime of love and memories that exists just in the silent communication between you.” You let out a mirthless chuckle, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “God, that sounds so pathetic when I say it out loud.”

“No, mi vida.” Carlos is firm, his eyes shining with sincerity. “Not pathetic at all. You’re allowed to feel that longing, that sadness over being deprived of something so integral.” His free hand comes up to cradle your jaw, calloused thumb stroking along your cheekbone. “You miss your dad. You mourn not having that relationship in your life. Those are entirely valid feelings to have, especially on days like this when I got to share my joy with my own father.”

You lean into his touch, fresh tears spilling over at his words as your breath hitches. “It’s like … no matter what I accomplish, no matter how successful I become, there will always be this hole.” Your hand comes up to clasp his wrist, holding him close. “Because he never got to see it. He never got to be that person cheering me on, taking pride in my achievements. Instead, I’m left imagining what it would be like, watching you and your dad and aching for something I can’t have.”

Carlos’ eyes turn molten, brimming with empathy and sorrow for your pain. Slowly, he guides you forward until your foreheads are pressed together, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Mi amor … I can’t replace what you’ve lost, or take away that regret and heartache. All I can do is promise to spend every day showing you how proud I am of you.” His fingers thread through your hair, cradling your head tenderly. “You are the strongest, bravest, most amazing woman I have ever known. Watching you out on the track, giving everything you have with that same fire and spirit as your father … words can’t express how awestruck I am. How honored I feel to witness your brilliance and passion race after race.”

You suck in a sharp breath at the reverent tone in his voice, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks at the depth of feeling behind his words. Carlos tugs you even closer until there’s no space between your bodies, until you’re sharing the same air in an intimate embrace.

“I only wish he could see you the way I do,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours with each word. “I wish he was here to feel the immense pride and adoration I feel every single time you leave me breathless behind the wheel.” A tender, lingering kiss punctuates his words. “You are your father’s greatest legacy, mi alma. And I will spend every day showing you that, if you’ll let me.”

A choked whimper escapes your lips as you surge forward, capturing Carlos’ mouth in a searing, fevered kiss. You pour every ounce of overwhelmed emotion, every bit of ardor and heartache and gratitude into the heated glide of your lips against his. His arms band around you like steel cables, holding you impossibly close as the kiss turns bruising, desperate, all-consuming.

When you finally pull apart, you’re both panting harshly. Carlos’ pupils are blown wide, lips red and swollen and thoroughly kissed. He stares at you with such naked adoration, such devotion, that it steals what little breath you have left.

“Thank you,” you rasp, cradling his face in your trembling hands. “Thank you for loving me so completely. Despite all my broken pieces, you see me at my core and still chose me.”

He leans into your touch, lips brushing your palm. “There is nothing to thank me for, mi amor. You are the sun, I’m merely lucky enough to orbit you and bask in your warmth.” He places another soft, lingering kiss to your wrist, right over your thundering pulse. “I am yours, corazón. Every piece of me, for every piece of you. Never doubt that.”

A fresh wave of emotion rises up, this one filled with pure, dizzying love and affection for the incredible man kneeling before you. Pulling him up, you simply hold him for a long moment, relishing his solid strength surrounding you in the protective circle of his arms.

Here, in his embrace, the ache of your father’s absence dulls to a faded echo in the corners of your heart. Here, you can breathe easy, reassured and loved down to your very core.

Eventually, the sounds of celebration filter in through the door — your team must be getting restless waiting for their driver. Carlos seems to hear it too, huffing out a quiet chuckle against your hairline.

“We should get out there, hmm? Before both of our teams send a search party for their drivers.”

You nod, but make no move to disentangle yourself, soaking up his warmth and steady presence for a few more selfish moments.

When you do finally pull away, there are fresh tear tracks on your cheeks but also a peaceful smile gracing your lips. Reverently, you run your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at Carlos’ temples as his eyes flutter closed, savoring your touch.

“I love you,” you murmur, the words seeming impossibly inadequate to convey the depth of feeling they represent. “Endlessly, meu amado.”

Carlos’ gaze when he opens his eyes practically glows with emotion, pure elation and adoration radiating from his expression. “As I love you, mi alma,” he husks, stealing one more searingly tender kiss. “Always.”

With twin smiles and your hands linked tightly, you exit the room together into the raucous cheers and celebrations. Outside, you can see Carlos Sr. surrounded by a sea of red, laughing and beaming with incomparable pride and joy at his son’s success. Your breath catches when he spots the two of you emerging, arms flinging wide.

“There are my superstars! Vámonos, we have a victory to toast!”

As Carlos tugs you forward into the chaos, his father enveloping you both in a crushing embrace and peppering your cheeks with scratchy kisses, you feel a sense of peace settle over you.

Yes, there will always be an absence where your father should have been, a hollow space in your heart shaped perfectly to his memory. But you’ll never truly be alone.

Not with Carlos beside you every step of the way. Not with his family’s boundless love and affection enveloping you, treating you as their own daughter. They are the salve for when that empty ache becomes too much to bear.

So you let yourself sink into the celebration, into the warmth of the Sainz clan and the sheer euphoria of your personal success. As long as Carlos keeps chasing his passion with the same fanatical devotion as his father … as long as you chase your own with every ounce of vigor and spirit that your father passed down through shared blood … then Ayrton will never stop watching over you both with immeasurable pride and a heart overflowing with love.

And for now, for today, that will simply have to be enough.

Days Before the Miami Grand Prix, 2024

The Miami sun sinks lower in the sky, bathing the hotel balcony in a warm orange glow. You lean against the railing, staring unseeingly at the cruise ships dotting the horizon. Your eyes are glassy, your mind a million miles away.

It’s been thirty years to the day since your father’s life was snatched away. Thirty years of living in his immense shadow, constantly reminded of the racing legend you never truly knew.

Your phone buzzes incessantly in your pocket, a steady stream of texts and calls offering condolences. Old acquaintances you haven’t spoken to in years, suddenly reaching out on this morbid anniversary.

What can you possibly say that the world doesn’t already know? That they haven’t already dissected and analyzed a million times over?

The harsh truth is that so many strangers have more vivid memories of Ayrton Senna than his own daughter. It’s a sobering reality, one that reopens that wound all over again every May 1st.

You feel numb, gutted, emptied out.

“Amor?” The familiar voice pulls you from your reverie. You turn to find Carlos staring at you with soft concern in his warm brown eyes. “Are you alright?”

You try for a reassuring smile, but it feels stale on your lips. “I’m fine, just … thinking.”

He sees right through you, the way he always does. Crossing the balcony, he wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting atop your head. You lean back into his solid embrace, drawing comfort from his presence.

“You know you don’t have to put on a brave face for me, right?” He murmurs against your hair. “Not today.”

You let out a shuddering breath, blinking back the sting of tears. “I know. It’s just … it never gets any easier, you know? All these years later and the wound still feels fresh.”

His arms tighten around you. “I’m so sorry, mi amor. I wish I could take the pain away.”

“You help more than you know, just by being here,” you reply thickly. A tremulous smile curves your lips as you cover his hands with yours. “Thank you for putting up with my melancholy every year.”

“You never have to thank me for that,” he says fiercely. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

The sound of the balcony door opening draws your attention as Carlos Sr. steps out onto the balcony, his eyes kind but assessing as he takes in the two of you embracing.

“Ah, lo siento,” he says apologetically. “I did not mean to intrude on a private moment.”

“No, no, you’re not intruding,” you assure him, reluctantly extracting yourself from Carlos’ arms. You turn to face his father, subtly wiping at your damp eyes. “What’s going on?”

Carlos Sr. hesitates, shooting his son a questioning look. Carlos nods almost imperceptibly.

“Actually, hijo, do you mind if I borrow Y/N for a few minutes?” Carlos’ father asks. “Hombre a hombre, as they say.”

Your brows knit in confusion, but Carlos just smiles faintly and drops a kiss on your temple. “Of course. I’ll be inside whenever you’re ready, mi vida.”

With a final squeeze of your hand, he disappears back into the suite, leaving you alone with his father on the balcony. The older Sainz settles into one of the plush lounge chairs with a slight groan.

“Please, join an old man,” he says, patting the chair beside him. You hesitate briefly before sinking into the indicated seat. An awkward silence stretches between you both.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Carlos’ father begins at last. “I am not usually at such a loss for words. But I find myself struggling to know what to say on a day like today.”

You manage a watery chuckle. “Trust me, you’re not the only one at a loss. I don’t even know what to say to myself half the time.”

He regards you with such tender understanding that it steals your breath away. “My dear girl, you have carried such a heavy burden on those young shoulders for far too long. No child should have to grow up in the shadow of tragedy the way you have.”

Tears well up anew in your eyes. “I just … I wish I could remember him, you know? Really remember him, not just what I’ve seen in videos or heard in interviews. It feels so unfair that the whole world has vibrant memories of who he was, but I’m just … left with echoes and fragments of a man I never truly knew.”

Carlos Sr.’s eyes glisten with empathy as he reaches over to take your hand, enveloping it in his calloused grip. “Listen to me, mija. While I cannot begin to understand the depth of your loss, I do know this — it is never strange to mourn someone you loved, even if you cannot recall the time you spent together.”

His words are like a soothing balm on the ragged wound of your heart. You squeeze his hand fiercely, struggling to keep your composure as he continues.

“Your father was ...” He pauses, seeming to carefully weigh his next words. “Your father was an incredible man, one who touched countless lives all over the world. But to you, he was simply your father. And that bond, that love between a parent and child, transcends memory. It lives on in here.” He taps his heart with his free hand. “In a way that no amount of biographies or documentaries could ever capture.”

The tears spill over, streaking down your cheeks. You make no effort to stop them this time. Carlos’ father merely watches you with infinite tenderness, his thumb brushing soothingly over your knuckles.

“I know I cannot replace the father you lost,” he continues softly. “Nor would I ever try. But I hope you know that our family … we love you as one of our own, mija. You will always have a home and a family with us, for as long as you desire it.”

A broken sound escapes your throat and Carlos Sr. immediately rises from his chair to gather you into his arms, his embrace warm and secure and achingly paternal. You bury your face in his shoulder, body shaking with muffled sobs as the floodgates finally burst open.

“That’s it, let it all out,” he murmurs, one broad hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Holding in such grief for so long, it’s a wonder you did not crumble beneath the weight of it long ago. You are stronger than you know, mija.”

You cry until you’re completely spent, until the front of Carlos Sr.’s shirt is damp and your eyes are swollen and puffy. When at last the tears subside, leaving you wrung out but strangely peaceful, he produces a handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabs at your cheeks.

“There now, that’s better isn’t it?” He asks, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles down at you. “I think my son may have plans to cheer you up, if you’re amenable?”

You let out a watery chuckle, feeling lighter than you have in days … weeks … months maybe. “That does sound nice.”

The elder Spaniard presses the handkerchief into your hand, then steers you back towards the balcony door with a gentle hand on your back. “Then what are we waiting for? That boy may look like me, but his sweet tooth is all his mother’s doing.”

You pause in the doorway, impulsively turning to throw your arms around the man who has, in many ways, become a second father to you. “Thank you,” you whisper shakily against his shoulder. “For everything.”

His arms tighten around you briefly. “De nada, mija. That’s what family is for.”

When at last you disentangle yourself, Carlos is waiting just inside, a bright smile lighting up his face at the sight of the two of you. On the counter, a cheerful array of pastries and confections beckons, the delicious aroma of fresh Brazilian baked goods enveloping you in a warm, sugary hug.

Carlos’ eyes are shining with love and relief as you cross the room to plant a lingering kiss of gratitude on his smiling lips.

“I love you,” you murmur when you finally pull back, cradling his face in your palms. “Thank you for being you.”

His forehead drops to rest against yours. “Always, mi alma. I’ll never stop loving you and being here for you, no matter what.”

You hold him tightly for a long moment, savoring his warmth and solidity. When you finally part, Carlos’ arm stays looped around your waist as he turns towards the dessert spread.

“So, I may have gone a little overboard at the bakery,” he admits with an unrepentant grin, waving his free hand at the sugary bounty. “But it’s been a rough day and you deserve to indulge a little.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling some of the lingering heaviness dissipate at the pure, infectious joy on his face. Leave it to Carlos to try and solve everything with baked goods and affection.

“Well, when you put it that way,” you tease, leaning into his side, “I suppose I can’t say no to that face.”

“That’s the spirit!” Carlos crows, beaming at you with such adoration that it makes your heart squeeze. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he scoops up one of the frosted confections and holds it up to your lips. “Open wide, mi amor.”

You obediently take a bite of the sugary pastry, the rich flavors of doce de leite and buttery dough melting over your tongue. Carlos watches you with rapt attention, his eyes darkening slightly as you slowly lick a stray bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth.

His father clears his throat loudly behind you. “Ay dios mio, get a room you two!”

Carlos has the grace to look abashed, but you just grin unrepentantly at your future father-in-law as he shakes his head in mock exasperation.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Carlos says cheekily, surprising you by suddenly sweeping you up into his arms bridal-style.

You let out a squeak of surprise that quickly dissolves into delighted laughter as he starts carrying you toward the bedroom, peppering your face with noisy kisses. Over his shoulder, you catch Carlos Sr.’s indulgent smile and parting wink before the door swings shut behind you.

The rest of the evening passes in a sugary, affectionate haze. For the first time in as long as you can remember, the grief feels bearable, soothed by the love of your chosen family.

While the ache may never fully heal, you have a newfound sense of lightness in your heart.

As you lay tangled in the sheets later that night, Carlos’ arm a grounding weight around your waist, you send up a silent thank you to whatever cosmic forces brought this incredible man into your life.

And maybe, just maybe, your father can finally rest easy knowing his little girl found her way to happiness after all.

[pankielovesfan]

How would Fan react when learning about the reveal? Read my fun long ramble!

I need to put this down somewhere. Here is my fun not so structured analysis!!!! this is something i think a lot about. of course I do.

I doodled a small little graph of reactions I think he would go through that I will elaborate on further in the paragraphs below. I'm not sure about the order but it'd be something like these stages when processing it - most likely.

This is analyzed from the idea that Fan did not previously predict this in any way or expect it, but I do also suspect he might know! (Which, I'll explain later for his reaction to that.)

Fan's an incredibly emotional and impulsive person, he would definitely have a strong outer reaction to the information. This may be biased coming from me since Fan is my favorite to analyze but aside from Suitcase he would probably be handling it the worst after being told about it, OR just having the most notable reaction! This is considering he was not made to be a contestant but to devote his love, identity, and purpose to the show, which makes him revolve around the show much more than anyone else - since it is a built-in interest in him that he's dedicated his entire existence to, even when he tried to build himself beyond it- he still surrounds himself with Inanimate Insanity even after his elimination. It is forever tied to his mind and interests contrary to many contestants who try to separate from the show and competition entirely.

Fan's most substantial development in Hatching The Plan was the fact that there were many possibilities out there for him to discover for himself (and that others were there for him through that change and discovery). While he recognizes this and states on Fan's Fantastic Features that he's trying to test his limit and push past his comfort zone (notably while in a safe controlled environment where this change can occur comfortably for him) he is still "stuck" in Inanimate Insanity whether he recognizes this or not. He is at Hotel OJ, surrounded by the contestants, and he is still on MePhone4's island, like any other contestant. While Fan has convinced himself that he is more than just a fan of the show and that he is improving as a person, this development is still slow (obvious, coming from a person such as Fan who struggles with it) and he is still heavily attached to the core of his personality - the core which he was built to be in the first place. His love for the show is so clearly his own dedication and passion, and it truly does feel like his own CHOICE to love the show as much as he does. Even if he was created for it, it is a part of him that he loves and puts confidence into.

I swear these earlier points play into this bear with me,

So once Fan is told he was created by MePhone4, after the initial shock dies down, he would be in denial of it, of course, as Fan would react to any new information he had not considered about the show. Some "It can't be"s and some "There is absolutely no way"s being said by him, especially if he had not foreseen this coming. An instinctive reaction coming from Fan (which would also apply to Test Tube) is immediately questioning it, wanting answers- most definitely from MePhone4 himself. I don't think he'd believe Cobs if he told him, maybe not even Suitcase or Test Tube, he'd need to find the evidence for it and piece together if this even made sense at all.

Once he starts to consider it and all the pieces fit together for him as he looks back on everything, he'll let go of that denial. That's when it first really hits him. One of his first reactions is positive. He'd find validation in the fact he was created specifically for the show, he'd be honored and glad he was an actual piece of the show- not just a viewer or contestant, he was actually part of the show he loved so much. Fan puts a lot of his confidence into being the number 1 fan of inanimate insanity, as everyone knows, and being questioned on this or having people challenge him always strongly shows his insecurity over it. But knowing that he quite literally is, without a doubt, the biggest fan of inanimate insanity- and that he actually had this purpose and that he was made for what he loved to do- that would validate him immensely. He would thrive on his notion for a while until the existential crisis started to leap in.

He'd try to be acceptant of it, and this time around he would be in denial of his own emotions. He'd try to show how well he was taking this and to pride himself in being the biggest ii fan ever, so he puts up a confident front which is obviously not normal to anyone who sees him. He'd try his best not to think about the other implications of his existence being made for reality TV. He would try his best to appear in control and unburdened to prove to both others and himself that he was taking it well. I don't think this stage in his realization will go on for long. I think this would fluctuate a LOT depending on his mood.

At one point he does start to question himself. He overthinks his existence and his emotions, and if they are genuine- what if what he feels is fake? Just generated love? What if he truly doesn't like Inanimate Insanity? What's a real feeling from him and what's a fake one?! A million thoughts that some may not even make sense but this is where the existentialism really gets to him. Every time he felt excitement or love for the show, was that even his own emotions? Was that just made by MePhone4 so he could get some appreciation for his show- and maybe he'd get mad that MePhone4 kept dismissing him. Maybe he'd wonder why he was made if he's not being recognized and rewarded for how much dedication- if it was even his own- that he put into appreciating MePhone4, a dedication that was going unnoticed or deemed annoying by him.

Something I mentioned earlier, about Fan learning to embrace new opportunities for himself and about how he was still trapped in the show. He realizes he is forever tied to the show, and all his attempts at making changes for himself and being more than just a fan suddenly feel... meaningless to him. All he was ever made for from the start was to be a fanboy of the show, and he had tried to build himself around that. But those efforts were for nothing if this is all he ever was- just a fan. That was his entire identity, he was never anything other than that. This is all that could ever come out of him. So what was the point in trying? His shell might've been the only place he'd ever felt safe in anyways- and once he remembers it, his old coping mechanisms seem incredibly tempting. Fan would retreat back into his shell. Things just seemed so much simpler if he did, he wouldn't have to deal with all this overthinking if he just stuck to what he was made for, something he already had found so much comfort and significance in. He uses his shell to cope once again, regressing, turning back to his purpose. This would be how he copes with this new information, by embracing what it taught him that he was. He'd be in this state for a while, he'd probably try to pretend he never even learned anything and creating a false reality of his own security. Being a fan is still important to him, and something he feels so deeply about that he's urged into fully embracing it again. early season 2 fan is back babyyyy!

Not sure how long it would go on for, or even how long it would take for him to go through these stages, but this is somewhat of the process I believe he'd have! I think Suitcase and Fan should have a talk about dealing with all of this. possibly. I feel like it will boil down to "if it feels true to you, that's all that matters." for Fan dealing with this. I could definitely see Suitcase saying something similar to him.

As for him reacting to it after already having theorized this would happen or at the very least suspect it, I think it would go similar to that one drawing I made. He'd be proud at first, and it wouldn't sink in as fast because his pride comes first! But to have it actually confirmed to him would then send him into that same realization as stage 3 of processing it. Something something, it goes the same after this.

Anyways i love fannnn i could talk about him for hours boy i love you i wonder if we'll even get everyone's reactions to the reveal or if they'll even tell anyone else but if we do Fan would definitely have a prominent reaction to it <- guy who loves fan saying this. look at this bias

[seijorhi]

the idea of oikawa not being ready when he meets his soulmate.

it isn't that he thinks you're not good enough, not pretty enough, not right for him, it's just that oikawa wasn't expecting to find you so soon.

soulmates are forever, you'll be there waiting for him when all's said and done, but his career in volleyball – it won't be. he's young, fit and hungry for it; in his absolute prime, but if he doesn't put in the effort now, give it everything, 100% of what he has... it'll slip right through his fingers.

he can't risk that.

there's a strange sort of desperation that tugs at his chest when he tries to explain, to get you to understand it. it's a sacrifice you'll both be making for the sake of the career he's dreamed of his whole life.

the way your smile slowly slips away when you realise he's not asking for you to be patient and give him grace when his focus is more on volleyball than you, he's saying he can't have you around at all, because you will distract him.

he'd lose himself in you.

it's not forever, he stresses, only a little while. you're perfect, and in a year or two when he's more settled in his role, the starting setter on the right team, heading to the championships, he'll be there to give you everything you deserve. no – more. he'll make it up to you, all he's asking for (but he's not really asking, is he) is a bit of time and space.

the light dims in your eyes, a strange, glassy look taking over, and slowly, so fucking slowly, you pull your hands from his, let them fall weakly to your side. it takes a monumental effort to not snatch them back up.

'yeah, okay.'

the expression on your face is all wrong, your voice almost robotic, but oikawa knows it's the right thing. you'll forgive him, because that's what soulmates do. you'll forgive him and then fall even more in love with him and oikawa will spend every damn day showering you in the love and affection he can. he'll drown you in it.

just give him this. let him give everything to volleyball, before he shares himself with you.

—

you're a little too good at it.

it's harder than he expected, going no contact. he was the one who wanted it – needed it, really, for this to work – but there'd been a small part of him that sort of hoped you'd ignore what he wanted and reach out anyway. he'd imagined sneaking a quick peek at his phone during a water break to see a message from you, something simple, casual, a 'hope things are good!' or 'i caught some of the game last week'. was it unfair of him to want you keeping track of him? to see how far he'd come in the days, weeks, months since he'd asked for time?

it's like an itch under his skin, and it grows. a few of his new teammates have met their soulmates, carry the marks to show for it. they're all smug as fuck about it, but the thing is whenever their soulmates are watching from the stands, they play with a different kind of fire. they're better. envy burns watching them celebrate afterwards, all hungry kisses and smiles too fucking big.

he knows you'd be there too if you could. you'd be there every damn game, all of their practices too, cheering him on. his biggest fan.

it's an ache. he goes home to an empty apartment, better than the one he had when he met you, in a nicer part of town, but no less lifeless. there's no one to welcome him home, to wrap him up in a hug, kiss him how he likes and soothe away the days stresses. no one to warm his bed, no other pussy'll ever be as tempting as yours.

i miss you.

i'm thinking of you.

would it kill you to break his rules and reach out every now and then? to give him some kind of sign that this distance was driving you half as crazy as it was him?

are you trying to punish him?

it occurs to him that you probably don't have his phone number. it shouldn't have stopped you, because it wouldn't've stopped him.

—

the first time he tries to follow your instagram you block his account.

it's irritating, until he remembers that you're probably trying to abide by his rules. he can't exactly get mad at you for that, tries not to, and instead does what any sane man missing his soulmate would do; creates a fake account, steals a picture from one of his sister's friends and uses that as his profile pic – even goes so far as to follow a bunch of your friends’ accounts too, just so it doesn't look suspicious or weird when he follows you too.

and for a little while, it's enough. he can see what you're up to, who you're hanging out with, where you're going. he'll watch all your stories, your friends’ stories, just for a few seconds of you.

(maybe strokes his cock to a few of them, cums in his sheets gasping your name.)

you're being patient, he's being good, it's only for a few more months, he can last a little longer–

there's a new post on your insta, a snap of you and some asshole with his arm wrapped around your waist, your lips pressed to his cheek.

'Happy six months, love you a little more every day!'

[gotta-winwin]

(💬) ... vernon chwe x reader

⭐ starring: vernon

💬 preview: the seemingly 'extraterrestrial' man that occupies Cubicle #218 cannot seem to take a hint - no matter how many flashing signs you throw at him.

tw/cw: fluff, corporate vernon, vernon is an oblivious lil shit, allusions to sex, quotes from b.e.d by Jacquees, shameless flirting and banter

based on an ask (hi + thanks for requesting!) as well as b.e.d by Jacquees MDNI

🪽fic rating/wc: pg 13/ 3.5k

☁️ masterlist & a/n: i am forever stuck in this vernon loop - alas, here's a request that's been sitting in my inbox for awhile, brewing vernon thoughts the whole time. although this fic is entirely fluff, there are allusions to sex so please be mindful of your age and the fic rating.

Vernon would have quit his job a long time ago if it hadn’t been for you. A part of him still yearned for the stage, a trusty guitar in his hands and the sound of diehard fans screaming his name. Instead, he had found himself stuck, circling the corporate ladder, clocking in to work everyday just to sit in his one lonely cubicle, staring at numbers he had only pretended to understand when getting his degree. 

He had his resignation letter signed and ready to go, and he would have handed it in if it hadn’t been for the notes that had begun to appear.

Colorful post-it notes that he’d find in the most random places - first his desk, then his lunchbox, in the pocket of his coat, stuck dead center on his computer screen. It baffled him, yet the notes kept coming, every single day of work without fail. At first he had scoffed, chalking it up to some silly office prank, but as time progressed, the notes became almost a given, as if the notes itself had rooted into his everyday routine. It filled him with anticipation and a reason to clock in everyday. As much as he hesitated to admit it, the silly notes made his day.

Of course, the notes were anonymous. Vernon had no idea that you were the reason he still showed up to work. 

“This is basically workplace harassment.” Anne, your closest co-worker, commented, as she watched you pen your next note to Vernon. She was the only one who knew it was you behind the colorful post-its.

“If he didn’t like it he would’ve told HR months ago.” You argued, ripping the completed note off the pad of bright orange post-its. “Besides, you’ve seen him smile at the notes. Even got a laugh out of him a couple times.” 

“But-” Anne snatched the note from you and read it aloud. “I hope our love will be like the number Pi: irrational and endless.” She shook her head, tsking. “Even for a compsci major, Y/N, Vernon would never find this funny. And if he does- he’s either mocking you, or his humor is just as broken as yours.”

“It’s funny!” You protested, snatching the note back. “Besides, I don’t even know where to leave this one. I’m running out of creative ideas.”

“What’s the point? You just need him to see it, right?”

You gave her a look. “There’s a higher probability of him laughing if he doesn’t expect the note. The less obvious the place, the better. He can’t be actively looking for it.” 

Anne sighed, spinning her chair back to face her work desk. “Compsci nerds.” 

Ignoring her, you continued. “I’m torn between leaving it taped to his water bottle, or taped to his bike.” 

“Of course Cubicle Number 218 Vernon Chwe would bike to work.” Anne rolled her eyes. “How old is this man? Can’t he drive?” 

“Hey!” You protested once again, defending him. “Maybe he just lives close, more cost-efficient you know.”  

Anne sighed. “Tape it to his bike.” Her fingers tapped against her keyboard as she spoke. “He’s definitely not going to be expecting that one.”

Your smile widened, already imagining his little stunned expression. “Okay. Cover for me- I’ll be right back.”

“Whatever.” Anne mumbled, although you caught a glance of the amused smile on her face. 

It was famously known throughout your office that the resident of Cubicle #218, Hansol Vernon Chwe, did not smile. He came into work and left while sporting the exact same facial expression the entire time. But you knew he smiled at your silly pick-up lines, no matter how stupid. And you knew that you might be the only person who knew just how pretty Vernon’s laugh was- even if it was from a distance.

If only you knew just how much Vernon wanted to know who was behind the silly notes that were his pick-me-up each day. 

You: 1 Vernon: 0

“I wanna live in your socks so I can be with you every step of the way.”

Vernon snorted audibly as he read the note, this time written on a hot pink post-it. His neighbouring co-workers snuck glances at him, drawn by the sudden noise. 

He ignored their stares, tucking the note into his jacket pocket for later. He was slowly amassing a collection of them, his desk back at home covered in multicolored post-its, each one from a different day. Sometimes the lines would be so terrible he’d shudder in cringe, but more often than not, he’d find them genuinely funny. 

Grabbing a file he needed faxed, Vernon made his way to the copier down the hall. Someone was already occupying it- and he realized he recognized her, the pretty girl who lived in cubicle #17. 

He could hear the loud music coming from her headphones, poorly hidden under her strands of hair. 

“Charli?” He asked, recognizing the familiar beats and rhythm of the song. 

He watched you turn around to face him, startled by his sudden appearance. “What?”

He pointed awkwardly to your headphones. “Is that Charli XCX? I didn’t think your name was Charli, don’t worry. It’s Y/N, right?” He rambled on, smiling sheepishly. 

You blinked, a little dazed by the amount of words he was suddenly speaking to you. You had always thought, like everyone else in the office, that Vernon was somehow untouchable. Someone so mysterious and way out of reality that the two of you just didn’t exist on the same plane of the universe. But now here he was, talking to you like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Yeah.” You answered, after realizing you had just been blankly staring at him. “To both questions.” You quickly added, equally awkward. “It’s Charli XCX and my name is Y/N.”

“Great.” His gaze drifted past you towards the copier. “Are you nearly done?” Holding up the file in his hand, he gestured behind you. “I need to fax something.” 

“Oh!” Hurriedly moving aside, you let out a tiny laugh. “I wasn’t really using it. Sometimes I just come in here and pretend I’m busy- to get away from how stuffy the office is. I don’t know why I just told you that.” You were mortified, glancing at him to make sure he wasn’t judging you.

Vernon’s lips were quirked into a smirk, as he tried hard to push down the laughter that was threatening to bubble up inside of him. Ultimately failing, his mouth widened into a smile as he laughed, the sound filling your ears better than any song could. 

“I like you.” He stated, as if it was such a simple thing and didn’t have your heart racing. “You’re funny.”

His smile widened once he caught sight of your open mouth, stunned into silence at the new side of Mr. Cubicle #218 you were currently seeing. 

“Close your mouth.” He mumbled, reaching a hand out to do it for you, his fingertips lightly pressing against your jaw. “You look like a fish.” 

“I- what?” You spluttered, moving a step back. 

Vernon shot you another melting smile, picking up his file and closing the copier. “Anyways, I’m all done. Are you going to hide out here some more?” He kept his eyes on you as he stacked the papers in his hands, organizing them against a nearby table. 

You nodded dumbly, eyes following his movement as he walked out, stopping by the doorway to shoot you a tiny salute before turning away. He walked down the hall with a gait only he had, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you feeling extremely confused, your cheeks oddly warm. 

You: 1 Vernon: 1

“Are you a worm? Cause I’d like to split you apart.” 

Morbid, yes, but you were slowly running out of ideas. Placing the sticky note strategically in his work bag, you scurried off, ducking behind a bookshelf to watch his reaction. 

“Are you a worm-” Vernon made a face as he read the note aloud. “Ew. Weird. Kinky?” He looked up at the ceiling, a concerning yet intrigued look on his face. A chuckle escaped him and you smiled in your success. 

Your work days seemed to blow right by with the joy in knowing you had successfully made him laugh, mind still churning through your last encounter with Vernon by the copier a couple weeks ago. It had both startled you and ignited something within- a longing to know more about him. 

“Looks like we’re the only ones left.” 

You looked up, blinking your dry and strained eyes, spotting Vernon hovering right above your cubicle wall, a tired expression filling his face. You glanced around the office and realized he was right. 

“Has it already been that long?” You wondered, rubbing your eyes as you shut off your computer, standing up to stretch your stiff back. 

You could’ve sworn Vernon snorted at your words. “Do you enjoy working here? Time does fly when you’re having fun.”

You shook your head. “God, no. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Yeah, you. 

An unspeakable look crossed his face as he grabbed your coat, helping you put it on. “C’mon, we can walk together.” 

“Oh. Thanks- alright.” 

The walk was amicably silent as you fell in step beside him, clutching your winter coat tightly as you both entered against the harsh wind. You spotted his banged up yellow bike across the street and bit back a grin. 

“You bike to work and back?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. You often passed him on your own way to work, spotting him through the windshield of your car. Nearly ran him over once, in your earlier days of working, but you don’t speak of that.

“I do.” Vernon patted the trusty bike with a loving hand. “Never failed me once.” 

A laugh escaped you, your breath hitting the winter wind and turning into a light fog. 

His eyebrows raised. “Are you laughing at me?” His lips quivered up as he watched you descend into laughter once again. 

“No!” You exclaimed through a fit of giggles, clutching your stomach. “Oh god, it’s just- Vernon Chwe- on a bike-”

A clear and infectious cackle of a laugh joined yours as Vernon too, doubled over in laughter. You paused, staring wide-eyed as giggles escaped him, thoroughly entertained by the amusement you had found in his transportation method. 

Passerbys would have deemed the pair of you as mad, with the way you clutched onto Vernon’s arm to hold yourself up as you laughed harder, his own hand gripping yours in the bitter wind. It was numbingly cold but both of your insides were warm, cheeks flushed due to the ridiculous image of Vernon on a bike. 

Y/N: 1 Vernon: 1 The universe(?): 1

“Yo.” 

Your music paused suddenly, jolting you out of your zone. Spinning around in your chair, you frowned up at Vernon, who had somehow swiped your phone from your desk without you noticing. 

“What’s up?” You sighed, taking off your headphones to glare at him. “You didn’t need to pause my music, y’know.” 

“I’ve been sent on a coffee run, wanna come?” He spread his arms open in invitation. “We can take as long as we like.” 

Ditching work for a while did sound like a nice pastime, especially with the lack of work you had currently. “I wouldn’t mind a breath of fresh air, actually. I’m down.”

“Put on your coat.” Vernon handed it to you, watching as you shrugged it on. 

“I know you want to be in my b.e.d, grinding slowly.” 

The last note had taken him terribly off guard and he needed a distraction to remedy that. 

To be fair, you didn’t really know what had gotten into you- the sudden bravado and confidence put into the note had caught you terribly off guard as well. 

“Do you know Joshua? He works in upper management but we’re pretty good friends.” Vernon suddenly asked, walking backwards along the sidewalk so he could look at you. 

You nodded. “I’ve seen him around. He’s very social.” Unlike you, you declined to add. 

“Yes. He’s hosting a social gathering later tonight, and asked if I could invite you.”

“He asked you to invite me?” You shot him a wary look, not quite believing him. You and Joshua barely passed as acquaintances. 

Vernon’s hand reached behind his neck as he rubbed his nape, a sheepish and embarrassed expression on his face. You noticed his ears would turn pink whenever he was even mildly shy. “Okay, maybe I just wanted to invite you, alright?” He turned away, walking properly now to hide his face from your keen eyes. 

A slow smile crossed your face. “Oh, no.” You mimed dread. “You’re in love with me, aren’t you.”

“What?” Vernon turned so fast you reckoned he must’ve gotten whiplash. 

“I’m joking.” Punching his arm lightly, you gave him a lighthearted smile, ignoring the way your heart pounded at the brunt question. “I’d love to go to the little party. You didn’t have to use Joshua to invite me.”

“Well,” Vernon’s ears turned pink once again. “I’d say I’d pick you up and give you a ride home after, but- I don’t think we’d both fit on my bike.” 

Both your lips twitched at the reminder of that night, where the two of you had laughed like it was the first time either one of you had found anything remotely funny. 

“I’ll drive.” You offered, once the wave of silent laughter dissipated. “You can hitch your bike to the back of my car.” 

“Me,” Vernon’s mouth dropped comically as he pressed his hands to his chest. “A passenger princess? How lucky.”

His smile widened as you laughed, and he shamelessly basked in the sound of it. 

Y/N: 2? Vernon: 2? The universe: 1

The smell of musk was the first thing that hit you as the two of you entered Joshua’s townhouse. It was a small, quaint place, decorated to the brim with trinkets and flower pots, overflowing with both people and food. Vernon led the way as you shuffled in, greeting familiar faces and smiling at strangers. 

“I thought you said ‘small gathering.’” You yelled, tiptoed next to Vernon so you could reach his ear. 

You could tell from his eyes that he had no idea what you were saying. “What?” He yelled back, although his voice was carried away by the crowd as well.

“I said-” You felt like you might burst a lung trying to communicate. “I thought you said, ‘small gathering!’” 

He stared at you blankly, blinking slowly, evidently still not in the loop. 

Giving up, you were about to turn away when you suddenly felt his whole body shake, quivering against you as he laughed. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, this time right in his face. 

“I heard you the first time, silly.” He yelled back, a shit-eating grin spreading wider as he watched your eyebrows furrow. 

“Party Vernon sucks.” You concluded, moving away, only to be pulled back by his hand on your arm.

“Didn’t you complain that I was too ‘mysterious’?” He yelled, laughing harder when you visibly paled. “Yeah, I heard that. But it’s okay. I am very…how did you put it. Sullen, at work.”

Hiding your face, you slapped his chest, causing him to groan in pain. 

“Ow.” 

“Ow.” You mocked back. There really was no answer as to where the sudden childishness came from, but the way Vernon was staring at you- it made reason seem almost meaningless.

He threw his head back and laughed, soundless against the party’s atmosphere but somehow just as electrifying. 

“Have fun, Y/N.” He said, grabbing your hands. “Let’s dance.” 

Y/N: 2 Vernon: 3 The universe: 1

You had always sworn by the fact that driving late at night with the windows down, cold air blowing through your hair was the way to go. 

“Admit it!” Vernon yelled through the wind, glancing at you from the passenger seat. “You had fun tonight.”

“I did.” You admitted. The party had been overwhelming at first, but the later the night got, the more fun you discovered yourself to have. “I haven’t had a night like that in a while.”

You braked at a red light and flipped through your playlist, switching on the one song you knew would get a reaction out of Vernon. 

“I know you wanna love But I just wanna fuck And girl, you know the deal I gotta keep it real I know you wanna see I know you wanna be In my B.E.D., grinding slowly”

The light turned green and you continued to drive, the roads empty and deserted, street lamps illuminating the world in a soft amber. Occasionally, you’d glance over at Vernon, who was bopping his head to the beat, murmuring the lyrics under his breath. 

Oblivious man. 

Reaching over, you turned the volume up, as if the louder the music was, it’d somehow reverberate its message into his skull. Get a hint! You wanted to scream at him. I’m kind of in love with you and want to jump your bones! Hello??

Vernon continued to groove to the music without a care in the world.

“This is a good song!” He yelled in your ear, his voice mixed with the whistling of the air, whooshing past you. 

“I know!” You screamed back. Oh my god. Is he really this dense? 

The song kept playing as you drove, winds calming down as you neared his place. In between the gap of the song switching to the next, Vernon spoke, his calm voice contrastingly the loudness before. 

“I think I’m going to quit the job.” 

You nearly crashed the car at his words, jerking the steering wheel back as you computed his words. “What?”

“I mean,” he turned in his seat to face you, his hair catching the last pieces of moonlight and shimmering against his skin. “I’ve always hated my job. And I already wrote a resignation letter and everything.” 

“Oh.” 

He must’ve noticed your silence, because he quickly continued. “Who knows? I might try being a rockstar or something.” 

“A rockstar?” You let out an astonished laugh. Vernon Chwe seemed to be surprising you at every turn, even when you felt like you'd already figured him out. 

He hummed. “Yeah. It just keeps..calling me, y’know?”

“Well then you should go for it.” You parked into the driveway of his apartment complex and turned to face him. “Really.”

“You think so?” His eyes were sparkling like precious jewels. 

“Yeah. I do.”

Even though you knew that meant your next note would be your last. 

Y/N: -10 Vernon: 3 The universe: -10

The office seemed even colder without the presence of Vernon around you. Even though he had always kept to himself, you could feel the lack of “Vernon” in the atmosphere. How he’d entrance you with the funny way he’d walk down the hall, his countless snack breaks and your shared copier trips. But most of all- it was the lack of notes.

“First day without Mr. Cubicle Number 218, how do you feel?” Anne asked you from her own desk. “Although, I guess he’s not 218 anymore, huh?”

“Yeah.” You stared dejectedly at your computer screen. “This job sucks.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re quitting too.” Anne let out a loud sigh. “I still think you should’ve told him you liked him.”

“I did!” You protested, rather loudly, drawing odd looks from nearby coworkers. 

“You played a sex song in the car.” Anne pointed out, lowering her voice. “That is not confessing.” 

“Well he should’ve put two and two together. The lyrics on the note was from that song.”

Anne laughed. “We’re talking about the male species. They wouldn’t know subtlety if it ran them over with a truck.” 

“Whatever.” You muttered, returning to sulk in front of your giant mountain of paperwork. “He definitely didn’t like me like that anyways.” Sifling through the papers, you sighed. “I’m going to fax these, I’ll be right back.” 

Anne only hummed, too engrossed by whatever she was reading on her phone. 

Opening up the copier, you frowned at the paper already sitting there, a hot pink post-it note with messy handwriting scrawled on it. 

“With all the variables in life, baby can you be my constant?” 

You didn’t remember writing this. 

“Call me ;)” 

A loud laugh escaped you as you covered your mouth, looking around to make sure you hadn’t been caught loitering in the copy room once again. Grabbing your phone from your pocket you fumbled the numbers on the bottom of the note in, raising it to your ear as you listened to it ring. 

“Hello?” You whispered, cupping your hand around your mouth to avoid detection. 

Silence.

“Vernon?” 

The sound of shuffling from the other line reached your ears. “You didn’t think I was just going to leave without saying goodbye, right?”

“Vernon?” 

“Actually, pretend I didn’t say that.” 

Your heart puttered to a stop.

“When can I see you again?” 

Y/N: 0 Vernon: ♾️ The universe: 0

[internal-ethics]

Ok im bored and ran out of good content so fuck it lets do this. Decided not to publicize it for so long bc its difficult.

This is my boldest and most prized contribution to this cursed fandom, as well as my dearest tribute to Tobirama, the best political character ive ever read in fiction, and his anija.

warning - this might not be for people with too heavy leaning on anti-konoha, anti-Hashirama sentiments or ships that's not hashimito or tobirama/konoha, or take the timings and numbers of the databook too seriously.

Hashirama is vaguely hinted to canonically have retired as Shodai years earlier, then married Mito, then lived till 10-20 years after VOTE and died in or before the 2nd War.

Tobirama died first in the 1st War. The scene where he sacrificed himself for his squad happened before the VoTE fight, not after. It's his death that signaled the End.

Hashirama losing his power/ability to lead due to possible depression and keeping a low profile (no one could know how and when the Shinobi God died because village situations, and there were sensors and trackers who could find him) is the reason why he didnt know the motive of the Police Force that Tobirama created, and also struggled with Kurama to the point he needed Mito to LEND him power, when earlier he could beat both Kurama and Madara.

Zetsu made up bullshit about Tobirama burying and letting Madara escape with a clone, based that assumption on Tobirama's reputation of creating weird jutsus involving sacrifices, most likely framing him for his surbodinates' doings, because Tobirama totally never knew Tsunade, possibly never even met Mito and dealt with a jinchuuriki, while Hashirama did both, comparing teenage Sakuras power to Tsunade's.

Zetsu also would not have been near there to know what the senju brothers did because they were both sensors that could detect him. Hashirama was the one who buried Madara.

As Onoki said this summit was to end minor conflicts, it happened right after Konoha was founded, not right before the WW. the 2nd kages looked much younger than in the VOTE/WW era. Hashirama likely had other means, more temporary and less effective, to restrain Kurama at this point (his mokuton and necklace) The databook also never said Hashirama died in which war.

Tsunade and Tobirama had no recollection of each other outside Tsunade only calling him distantly 'nidaime' since part 1 and only 'heard' about the ones who killed him.

meanwhile Hashirama was too familiar with tsunade as she with him, and familiar with the village and people, so that he could recall his memories with it despite just having seen it before he died like weve been told.

He talked like he's been through 2 wars with them.

Our second known grandkid of Hashirama was Nawaki, who was 11 years younger than Tsunade. Unless his first son has multiple children in short years which is pure fanfiction, how would he know Tsunade was his 'first' grandkid and how she would turn out 'in the end' if he died when she was this small.

Also the fact that Hashirama didnt wear Konoha headband in the VOTE fight.

But did wear it when he married Mito. Tsunade was not Mito's grand daughter.

As for how he died, its in battle, probably to a nobody mob while protecting his clan or Mitos clan (both conveniently destroyed or disappeared after hes dead). And by the time they killed him and he let them do that, i doubt they even realized or remembered they killed the First Hokage and God of Shinobi. I mean youd think whoever killed him should have been insanely famous, regardless of his power level at the time.

Tobirama said "my role as Second Hokage was to stand between and meditate between brother and Madara while protecting the village" this raised eyebrows because there would have been no one to stand between if he only became Second after Hashirama died and Madara left (forever). Meaning Hashirama was alive when Tobirama became Second, and it had been like that for a long time.

This is what a japanese fan thought of Tobirama's death

Between the two brothers, it makes more sense for the 'normal' one who invented jutsu that defied the law of nature, including

ninja nuclear bombs,

Summoning the dead and giving them infinite chakra

clones only reserved for monster chakra reserves like Naruto with Kurama in him

and a teleportation jutsu that required 5 people in place of an absolute genius like Minato to do- moderately,

rather than a powerful monster with the same annount of chakra as a bijuu AND sage mode that heals himself, to die earlier out of illness.

This is also why Hashirama would ban Tobiramas jutsu and compiled them into HIS scroll seen in the very first chapter - they likely literally shorten ones life. Hashirama wouldnt want random people to drop dead using them...like his brother.

Some more readings on which Japanese samurai characters that have been Kishimoto's references for the founders.

Oda Nobunaga - Hashirama's first concept when he was a scary rugged scarred and big nosed guy, the one who stopped the genenations long wars, unified japan and died right after realizing the dream, but he died partly because of his brutality and crimes in life - he ACTUALLY killed his brother by blood among others of his family who betrayed him. His successor has nickname 'Saru'.

Ashikaga Takauji - Hashirama's later concept, first shogun of his era but softer big brother guy.

Ashikaga Tadayoshi - Takauji's younger brother who stepped up where he couldnt, disagreed with Takauji on politics and died 5 years before his brother did, in defeat but also there are sources that say he suffered some kind of illness before that.

Ko no Moronao - Takauji's close friend who Tadayoshi hated and was later exiled.

More references in Japanese creation mythos involving Izanagi and Izanami, where Izanagi killed his Fire god son Kagutsuchi after Izanamis death, hence his words "my very own child".

[wileys-russo]

love is blind II l.williamson x reader

based around this request here but changed it up a little! love is blind II l.williamson x reader

entering the stadium and making your way down court side your eyes lit up in wonder, raking the thousands of cheering fans clad in their favorite teams colors, chatter bouncing off the walls backed by the upbeat pump of the music in the background as both teams warmed up for the game.

you'd been in new york working for six months now, subletting a room from one of your childhood pen pals which had somehow stood the tests of time, a unique friendship you treasured dearly even if she was an absolute hurricane on her best days.

working as a freelance photographer had lead you to live a colorful life to say the least. you'd been travelling the world from the moment you'd decided to drop out of your rational business degree, deciding much to your parents worry that sort of career just wasn't for you.

but though you'd hopped from one city to the next you'd never really existed in one place long enough to set down solid roots as a large part of your heart always remained back home with your loved ones.

photography far from the most steady income flow it would be an understatement to say at times your situation had been stretched, and you'd learned to become quite the adaptable and creative chef when living from dollar to dollar in some remote corners of the worlds.

but new york had been providing job after job, an endless list of up and coming talents forever wanting headshots, subbing in last minutes as an assitant on shoots for the experience and even shooting for a few magazines along the way had kept you here longer than intended.

but as you grew older and your family expanded, a whole horde of nieces and nephews you hardly saw compiling back home, you found your heart for once longing to settle, to find a reason to set down some roots and maybe a full time job to go with it.

but for now your brother had somehow swung you these courtside tickets for you and your roommate, though with a raging hangover she'd refused to leave the bed, only returning home around nine this morning in a different dress she'd left home in and without shoes you'd known from that very moment you'd likely be venturing to the game tonight alone.

but well traveled on your own that wasn't anything that scared you, you were anyone but someone who dismissed a new experience even if it was a solo one.

which is exactly how you found yourself subtly counting the seats as you made your way down the very front row, making a mental note to smack your brother the next time you saw him for how much he'd likely splashed on these seats which were an early birthday present.

finally finding your seat you were surprised to find it already occupied, a blonde head of hair in jorts and a white button up lazing about comfortably with a drink in her hand.

even without speaking a word you could sense the strong personality oozing from her, loud laughter echoing about as she conversed with a couple of men in the row behind her, an aura of confidence hanging in the air which had your stomach twisting at needing to interrupt her.

"hi i'm so sorry but i think you're in my seat." leah glanced up at the new voice breaking away from her conversation she was previously occupied in, breath catching at the eyes she found herself looking up into.

"i'm 7a, sorry." you winced showing her your ticket on your phone, never having been one for confrontation but the court side seats had been a gift and if the sender didn't see you utilizing them on the tv you'd be getting your ear chewed off without a doubt.

"oh shit no i'm sorry! i didn't even think to check the number i just sat down in the right row." leah apologized sincerely glancing around for jason who had her ticket and lanyard still in his pocket, finding him on the other side of the court taking photos with a group of players.

the seat next to her free leah shuffled over one, allowing you to take your seat as you placed your bag under you and crossed one leg over the other.

"i'm leah." the blonde introduced herself with a smile as you settled a little seeing she wasn't upset like you'd feared but rather seeming quite friendly.

introducing yourself you shook her hand with a laugh as she stuck it out toward you. "how very formal of you." you teased, surprisingly at ease with the english woman finding comfort in the familiar accent in the vast sea of americans you'd been swimming in these last few months.

"well you'd know first and foremost how charming the english are. thought you might want a taste of home! which would be..." leah trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

"i was brought up not to share my home address with strangers. weren't you taught about stranger danger as a child!" you smiled playfully as leah turned herself a little more to face you.

"leah williamson. england captain, european champion, newly appointed basketball fan, first time in new york. i have a younger brother, my grandma is my best mate and i kick a ball round for a living. i spoke at the united nations earlier today and i'm drinking away the nerves i said something terrible because i practically blacked out and can't remember anything!" leah held her drink up in a silent cheers, downing the rest of what appeared to be a gin and tonic with a wink.

"go on stranger, your turn." the blonde encouraged with a flick of her hand as you smiled, finally clocking where she looked familiar. you weren't a massive sports fan, which was ironic given your current location, but you'd have to be completely blind not to recognize the captain of the lionesses after their huge euros win.

"freelance photographer and business school drop out, lived in this fine urban jungle in a shoebox for about six months now. sorry to hit your ego miss euros but i've never sat through a single football match without falling asleep! my dog is my best friend and i'm the youngest of six, the final perfect creation one might say." you grinned, leah rolling her eyes playfully.

"a humble one too it would seem. now look! no longer strangers are we? thank god danger averted." the blonde exhaled wiping at her brow in mock relief before bumping her knee into yours with a grin.

as the announcer started to call out the lineups and the crowd erupted in volume leah shuffled just a tiny bit closer and leant in so she could continue to talk to you, basketball now really the last thing on her mind.

by the final buzzer you couldn't care less who'd won or lost having spent almost the entire game chattering away to leah who seemed more than content to fill in the gaps of your sports knowledge, taking any opportunity she could to slip in a teasing remark about your lack thereof.

"well leah it was lovely to spend some time with such a charming brit! even if you are from milton keynes." you sent leah a dazzling smile and a wink which flipped her stomach, the blonde waving off jason who tried to capture her attention on her other side.

"you may not share my bursting pride and joy for the greatest place on gods green earth but without my ongoing commentary and extensive sports knowledge i'm sure you'd have been bored out of your mind. and now you can tell your brother you sat court side and share his appreciation of this fine game!" leah grinned back, fingers drumming against the lip of her cup.

"mm and imagine his shock when i tell him it was all thanks to an arsenal player, i'll be disowned mind you!" you smacked her knee with a roll of her eyes only causing her grin to widen.

"god i almost forgot you come from a chelsea loving family, disgraceful behaviour that mate." leah grimaced with visible disgust, covering her mouth as she spoke the c word making you laugh and smack her knee again, your hand lingering there for a moment.

as you pulled away leah found herself missing the touch, trying to shake herself out of it and putting it down to the alcohol buzzing through her head.

"i should really get going i'm meeting someone for dinner, but it was lovely sitting and speaking with you." you started sincerely, standing to your feet as leah did the same.

"me too, it was a pleasure to provide you with an in depth basketball crash course." leah joked as you laughed, the sound sending a strange feeling coursing through her stomach.

"i really would have been bored out of my mind without you here, enjoy the rest of your trip. i'll be sure to look out for your UN speech online i'm sure you smashed it!" leahs cheek flushed pink as you leant in and pressed a soft kiss to it, sending her a kind smile and before she could utter another single syllable you were gone.

~

"beth! i am telling you she's a no show. i've waited here for thirty minutes man i'm not wasting the rest of my night!" leah huffed, whisper yelling down the phone to her supposed expert match making friend, slumping down further in her seat.

meanwhile on the opposite side of the restaurant your eyebrows furrowed as you sent your tinder date yet another message which was left on delivered, rolling your eyes and locking your phone with a defeated huff.

"yeah? well your friends name must be casper." leah rolled her eyes unimpressed with beths attempts to make excuse for the mystery woman she'd insisted on setting leah up with, an old family friend who'd lived in new york the last few years who leah just had to meet.

"christ beth i know thats not her name for fuck sakes. i meant because it would appear she's a ghost you numpty!" leah groaned, flashing an apologetic smile toward the couple the table over who gave her an odd look.

"no she's a no show of course just my luck. are you still up for a drink? i can meet you literally anywhere that isn't here. see i told you tinder wasn't for me!" you sighed over the phone, abandoning your half finished drink and grabbing your bag off the counter.

"no i am not going to give it a few more minutes mccabe. now beth call your mate and tell her to lose my number, i told the two of you a blind date was an awful idea but did you listen? no!" leah sternly told off the women on the other end of the phone before hanging up with a frustrated huff and declining the incoming call which followed.

standing from her chair the defender sent the waitress an awkward smile who'd been sending her pitiful glances from the moment she sat down alone at the table clearly set for two.

"oh you're already out? yeah send me the address and i'll get a taxi to soho, and i will be deleting tinder on my way over!" you warned, wincing a little as your friend returned inside and you could clearly hear the music blasting in the background of wherever she was.

not having ordered anything bar a drink she'd already paid for leah bypassed the hostess as she made a hurried beeline for the exit. but too focused on not being seen by the prying woman she knew would ask questions, leah didn't watch where she was walking and suddenly her body collided with another as she stepped outside.

"christ! do you not have eyes?" that voice.

leah sat up from her place on the floor as you did the same, angry features softening at the familar face staring back at you guiltily. "i do in fact have eyes, just forget to use them sometimes." leah winced with a sheepish smile as your own lips curled up in amusement.

"i thought athletes were supposed to be coordinated." you mocked as she hurried to her feet and offered you her hands which you took gratefully, the taller girl hauling you up and steadying you as you nearly slipped again.

"whats whitney houstons favorite form of coordination?" leah blurted out randomly as you gave her a curious look. "hand eyee!" leah sung, loudly, proudly and a little off key as you couldn't help but burst out with a surprised laugh, leahs face lighting up at the sound.

"you really are the perfect combination of charming and strange." you teased, the two of you making your way down the steps out front of the restaurant. "well the world would be incredibly dull if everyone was ill mannered and normal now wouldn't it?" leah countered with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"so your dinner-" "after the game i-"

you both blushed slightly in the crisp autumn evening as you spoke at the same time. "your dinner, that was fast. is this a normal new york dine and dash?" leah smiled, the two of you starting to walk aimlessly down the street.

"well normally when you meet someone for dinner they show up, so more of a dash without the dine!" you admitted with an annoyed huff, phone still clear of any notifications from your so called date.

"if it makes you feel any better you're singin to the choir. normally when you're set up on a blind date the date in question shows up." leah countered with an empathetic smile as you frowned, unable to understand how the tall charming admittedly quite gorgeous blonde in front of you could have possibly been stood up.

it wasn't as if you hadn't noticed her beauty at the game, but you were far too busy being swept up by her witty one liners, passionate commentary, teasing remarks and sharp sense of humor to really focus all too much on the physicality of it all.

but now you were you found yourself rather enamored with and maybe starting to harbor a slightly juvenile crush on the tall footballer walking by your side.

"dates huh? the worst part of being single." you sighed with an understanding shake of your head, leah humming her agreement and jolting as you suddenly stopped in your tracks. "where are we actually going?" you asked with a laugh, realizing the two of you were truly just wandering without a destination.

"how about for a drink? normally when i try to sweep a girl off her feet thats how i'd start to go about it, not actually taking her down off her feet." leah quipped with a charming smile, pearly white teeth flashing at you cheekily.

"well its the least you can do, think i might have uh tore a quad or a hammy maybe on that fall? oh ref! ref! book her for it!" you faked an injury, bending down to grab at your leg as leah withheld the urge to smile and shook her head at you.

"very funny. you know we could get you on the pitch with diving skills like that! not for arsenal though, we frown upon that sort of reckless, illegitimate and downright unprofessional behavior." leah puffed her chest out with a wave of her hand as you shoved her playfully.

"you know i could get you some acting classes as a gift if you'd like? after all we're only a few streets away from broadway. might win the league with some polished poor tackles, grunts of pain and strategic pens." you teased, leah scoffing at your words.

"well firstly i am utterly offended at that. but secretly i'm quite proud you retained that much football lingo in only a couple of hours, by the time i'm done with you you'll be wearing red, chanting my name and screaming north london forever!" leah smirked, stepping closer to you with a twinkle in her eye.

"and by the time i'm done with you football might just be the very last thing on your mind." you quipped back with a flirty smile, the burst of sudden confidence catching leah a little off guard as she tilted her head, looking down at you as you caught her gaze flicker toward your lips which curled up victoriously.

"so, about that drink?" "i think i know a place."

~

"-and you're sure about this? i don't want you to feel rushed baby." you frowned down at your girlfriend, absentmindedly playing with her hair as her head lay in your lap.

"never been more certain my girl. as much as i love having you all to myself with the move back now i'd love to have you finally meet the girls." leah assured, reaching a hand up to squish your cheeks with a soft smile.

it was safe to say that night in new york and the promise of one drink had wound up as many more with leah stumbling into your shoebox of an apartment with your hand over her mouth desperately trying to stiffle the drunken giggles she couldn't seem to hold back as to not wake your roommate.

it didn't work, your roommate leaping out of the shadows with a baseball bat scaring the two of you half to death as leah pushed you behind her and chucked her fists up, barely able to stand on her own feet as she swayed to and fro.

quickly ushering leah to your bedroom you guiltily sent your friend a smile and promised to explain in the morning, the girl sending you a knowing look of amusement and a hum before retreating back to her own bed.

that night you and leah stayed up talking for hours and hours about everything and nothing, your hand consistently smacking over her mouth as she was unable to control the volume of her boisterous laugh, her tongue licking your palm each time making you squeal and slap her before she'd use the moment to steal a kiss with a cheeky grin.

beyond a few lazy drunken kisses not much more happened, leah waking up still a little tipsy only mere hours later with her phone filled with missed calls and a pounding headache.

feeling her stir and shuffle around looking for her phone you'd woken not long afterward, an anxiety that she was going to leave without another word simmering at the surface of your partially conscious state as she slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

disappointment flooded you momentarily before you shook it off best you could, reminding that one night stands were more than normal and just because you weren't accustomed to them didn't mean leah owed you anything more.

but to your surprise she returned quickly having sent the messages she needed to in order to free up her day, sliding back into bed with you with a smile and a tired sigh.

"good morning." the blonde rasped out, voice cracked and clearly struggling as you offered her the bottle of water from your nightstand which she accepted gratefully.

an old t-shirt of yours hanging off of her taller form it amused you the way it almost looked like a crop top with the height difference, a gentle teasing remark about it falling from your lips as leah playfully flicked your nose and laid back down.

her arms wrapping around you was a foreign yet comforting feeling, a sense of safety that was unknown to you encompassing where you both lay beneath the duvet tangled up together, not another word uttered as within a few minutes you felt her grip relax slightly and her breathing even out.

sleeping away most of the day you'd later asked her out to dinner with the promise of helping her refuel the energy you'd stole from her with the two of you talking well into the early morning, leah eagerly agreeing.

parting after dinner with a lengthy kiss you'd exchanged numbers with a sense of uncertainty of where this could go, leah flying back to london the following morning and you with jobs lined up for the following month.

but with both of you clearly curious and seemingly eager, messages turned into calls which grew to facetimes, and suddenly leah was jetting over to visit you for a few days and you were secretly sneaking off to london to see her, hiding from your family the knowledge you were back.

on the third time you'd met up again leah laid it out for you, admitting she wasn't one for a long distance relationship and hadn't expected to fall for you the way she had, but with the two of you rapidly growing feelings which seemed to be reciprocated you agreed to give it a go.

two months down together and you'd made the decision to return permanently back to england. promising leah over and over it wasn't solely for her and you already had some work lined up, as well as informing of the fact your mum was a few days away from putting your face on a milk carton claiming her daughter had been missing in action for far too long.

you'd intended to get your own place but staying with leah for the first couple of weeks while you looked around the two of you fell into a routine. then out for dinner one night the blonde had offered you a key and asked if you'd move in for good, and with her ever dazzling smile reeling you in how could you say no.

the two of you had kept your blossoming relationship quite quiet, really only meeting one anothers immediate family once you were ready and staying wrapped up in your little love bubble the last few weeks.

the honeymoon phase as leahs mum amanda had dubbed it with an amused smile, only seemed to grow as you and leah finally embraced being able to be together in the way you'd both craved from the very first moment she'd asked you to be her girlfriend.

you'd been having the ongoing conversation the last few days about starting to meet one anothers friends, that seeming the next step in your relationship which was what lead to the current conversation.

true to leahs words that very first night you met, she'd had her way and every weekend now had you bundled in her jersey and sat with her family watching her play, chanting along and proudly singing the angel before every match.

you'd obviously met a few of her close friends and teammates before, hardly able to hide the fact you were living together, but not officially as leahs girlfriend and most nights she had her own friends over you'd be out catching up with your own.

"i really want you to come out after the game and meet all the girls as my girl, officially." leah promised, interlacing her fingers with yours and bringing your knuckles to her mouth, kissing softly as you melted like putty in her hands.

"my pretty pretty lovely gorgeous girl." leah pushed herself to sit up, now hovering over you as her lips ghosted yours and she pulled away with a smirk as you chased them for a kiss, pouting when you didn't get your way.

"so needy." leah teased with a smile as you pinched her for the comment and captured her lips in a kiss, sighing happily as her mouth moved against yours perfectly, butterflies erupting and head spinning as it did every time leah was in your immediate vicinity.

"so. you'll come out tonight then?" leah pulled away and asked hopefully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pecking your lips a few times.

"mmm haven't decided yet baby, might need a few more of these to really seal the deal." you stroked your chin thoughtfully before tapping your lips with a smile and a wiggle of your eyebrows making your girlfriend hide a laugh.

"cheeky girl. well baby i guess i can accommodate these heinous demands!" leah sighed dramatically with a roll of her eyes, leaning back in and pressing her lips to yours with a smile.

~

"how are you feeling gorgous?" leah questioned softly as she parked the car, flicking off the engine and glancing toward you sat in the passenger seat. "nervous." you answered honestly as her hand sat on your thigh squeezed gently.

"i understand my love but i promise the girls are so excited to finally meet you, and i've never met someone as easy to get along with as you. they're all gonna love you and i'm gonna have to fight them for your attention all night!" leah pouted making you crack a smile.

"well you know i'm going home with you at the end of the night babe, and we both know once you have a couple drinks you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself anyway." you teased, leaning over the console to bridge the gap and press your lips to hers.

a few more sweet assurances and kisses later and you were walking into the bar where the girls and some of their loved ones were, leah taking your hand once you were inside and leading you down the back to where they all were, having booked it out for some privacy for them all post game.

a symphony of cheers sounding as the pair of you arrived you felt yourself become a little flustered as suddenly you were rushed by a small crowd of girls who leah shooed away.

instead taking you around to everyone one by one and introducing you, her hand never leaving your waist the entire time as her thumb traced gentle circles into your hip.

finally rounding to the final little group, most of whom you'd met in passing once or twice but again never officially as leahs girlfriend like she announced you now, the title still giving you the warm and fuzzies as you were pulled into a few hugs.

leah stopped the introductions for a moment when her eyes fell on an unfamiliar girl, beth quickly taking over and introducing her friend with an unreadable look flashed leahs way.

leah quickly realized why she was unfamiliar, this was beths friend from new york who to be fair beth had been discussing coming to visit her at training for the last few weeks but leah had only half tuned in, mind as always wandering to you most times it wasn't occupied by football.

hearing the name your chest tightened as you were now able to put two and two together, a gentle squeeze of leahs arm around your waist all you needed to settle again.

"i'm really sorry about what happened, i wasn't in the right space for dates but it was a dick move to just ghost you." the girl addressed leah with a wince who waved it off.

"don't be, if you hadn't we'd never have wound up together." leah was surprised to hear you speak up as your arm hugged her torso and you sent the girl a smile, leahs own lips curling into amusement as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"you two are adorable, i'm really glad things worked out an you found one another." the girl spoke sincerely and gave the pair of you a slightly awkward smile before she stepped away.

"sorry." beth winced guiltily at the defender before pulling you into another hug and warning leah she'd be stealing you a little later as your girlfriend pulled your back into her front protectively with a playful glare.

"i think...is that, you're looking a bit green babe? maybe with envy?" leahs hands fell either side of your face as she looked you over and you smacked her chest withholding a smile.

"you know its quite hot when you get a little possessive baby girl." leah gave you a wolfish grin. "well i only take after you my love, jealousy should be your middle name. need i bring up last weekend for example?" you smiled knowingly, fingers tracing her collarbone.

"he was all over you! i had every right." leah scowled instantly at the mention of the incident which had her dragging you away from a party you'd attended together for one of your siblings birthdays, leah spending the entire night afterwards showing you just how much you really were hers, worshiping your body for hours on end in every which way.

"you doin alright though babe?" leah murmured seriously, taking you aside into a more secluded corner as her eyes roamed over your face for any sign of discomfort.

"i'm good. might need a little help with everyones names for the first couple of hours but i'm good i promise, i'm glad we're finally doing this baby. i love you!" you puckered your lips as leah grinned and gave you what you want, echoing those three words back in between.

lost in the feeling of leahs lips on yours you didn't realise you'd gathered an audience, most of the girls watching on happily seeing how loved up the two of you were, others whispering teasing remarks about the blonde and just how smitten she was.

"oi lovebirds! your turn at pool, you can lock lips after we've kicked your asses."

[vivwritesfics]

Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter Three

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

1.2K

Series Masterlist

The story broke on the day her first book was published. Carlos couldn't help but feel rather sick every time she looked at her phone.

But she remained blissfully unaware for the entire day. By the end of the day, after the story had been out for a number of hours, it felt too late. Carlos went to bed that night with guilt plaguing him. His touch was hesitant as she shuffled across the bed, towards him.

She would have liked to find out from Carlos. Not during her first book signing. It was the weekend after her book came out and, as much as Carlos wanted to be there, he was at a race.

He texted her before the race began, just before the start of the signing. The lights went green at the race track as the doors to the book store opened, and people holding copies of her book walked in.

Person after person walked up to her table. She signed the inside of the book with a polite smile and sent them on their way.

That was until a girl in a Ferrari shirt came walking up to her table. She took notice of it right away. "I can't believe you're here instead of watching the race," she said through a laugh as she took the book from the young ferrari fan.

"Oh em gee!" The ferrari fan cried. "You watch Formula One? What team do you support?"

She let out a small laugh as she signed the inside of the book. To A wonderful Tifosi. "Ferrari, of course," she said as she placed her signature on the page.

"Who is your favourite driver? If you don't mind me asking, that."

She shook her head. "That's more than fine. I'm actually a Carlos Sainz fan," she said and slid the book back across the table.

"Oh! I can't believe he's finally taken, though. It feels like he was single forever."

The world stilled around her. Her heartbeat sped up and she gripped her pen so tight it almost shattered in her hand. The Ferrari fan thanked her and took her book as she walked away from the table. Before anybody else could approach she called one of the bookstore employees Iver. "I need five minutes," she said as she stood up from her seat.

The employee placed a sign on the table and directed her towards the back of the bookstore. Through the doors and out into the alleyway was the employee smoking area.

As soon as she was outside, she pulled her phone from her pocket. She couldn't text Carlos, not while he was driving. Instead she took to her personal instagram, the one with thirty followers. Her feed was full of F1 posts. Ever since she met Carlos she began following the sport, filling her private social media with anything she could find.

One of the first posts was a picture of Carlos leaving a night club. She'd been there that night, but she hadn't danced with him, hadn't left with him. It was enough being close to him.

The woman beside him was a stranger, though, photoshopped into the picture. She knew for a fact that she hadn't been in the club that night, hadn't left with Carlos, who drove straight to their apartment, to meet her there and fuck her.

Rebecca Donaldson. It was a name she didn't recognise. A quick goggle search turned up very little information about the woman. The most she could find was articles wondering who 'Carlos Sainz's new flame' was.

But she wasn't Carlos's new flame. Carlos didn't have a new flame. He had her. He'd had her for an entire year now.

Wearing a brave face, she returned to the signing.

Normally, after the race she'd immediately be on her phone, texting Carlos. He couldn't remember the last time he checked his phone after a race and she hadn't texted him.

This time, she couldn't wait to text him after her signing. Congratulate him on a great race and tell him all about it. This was before the signing actually happened.

Carlos checked his phone after the race, ready to read texts from her. But there were gone. He had texts from friends, from family, but not from her.

Carlito 💕💕

Are you awake, cariño?

Read

Huh, that was odd. She looked at the message the moment he sent it, but she didn't reply. A horrible, awful feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

But Carlos wore a brave face. He pushed on with things, got on with it until he could get home to her.

He was quiet on the plane ride back. Those he was sharing the private jet with noticed, but they didn't say anything. Every time he checked his phone, they assumed he was messaging his new girlfriend. He really wasn't.

Carlos made his way straight home. He pushed his key into the door and twisted, pushing it open.

The house was quiet, eerily so. "Cariño? Are you there?" Carlos called.

Nothing.

Grabbing his bags, he started towards the bedroom. "Y/N?" Carlos called as he walked inside. But still, she wasn't there. Dropping his bags, Carlos started searching.

He found her in her office,tapping away at her computer. "Ah, there you are," he said as he walked towards her.

Carlos went to wrap his arms around her where she sat, but she stood. She stood up and walked away from him. "Cariño, is everything all right?"

Her jaw was set, hands crossed over her chest as she stared at him. "Carlos, I'm going to ask you this once. Are you cheating on me?"

Carlos felt the colour drain from his face. "Mi amor, no!" He cried as he rushed towards her. He went to cup her face between his hands, but she moved away.

"Who the fuck is Rebecca Donaldson?"

"Shit," he hissed. He'd fucked up, big time. "Cariño, please, you've got to listen to me," he said. "They threatened me with my seat! I haven't met her, I don't know her and I don't love her."

Tears sprang to her eyes and she sank down the wall. "What the fuck is going on, Carlos? I thought you loved me. I thought you were gonna..." she sniffed and wiped at her nose. "Do you not want to be with me? Is that it?"

This time, when Carlos approached her, she didn’t push him away. He took her hand and kissed her palm. "Ferrari fucked up," he whispered, still holding her hand. "They needed a PR distraction and they chose me. I don't know Rebecca Donaldson, I've never met her," he said. "I love you so much. I want nothing more than to show you off to the world."

She held his face and pulled him close, kissing him. But, when she pulled away, she stood. "Im going to stay with my mother for a bit," she said and walked out of the room to pack a bag.

Carlos couldn't move. His legs shook as he went to follow her. He felt sick to his stomach.

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[coff33andb00ks]

20 Oscar

20: pressing the other’s hand against their cheek

warnings: author doesn't understand the meaning of the word "short" and (badly written) descriptions of a wreck during a race (no injuries)

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Piastri just doesn't give a fuck.

Oscar is just too chill.

Does he ever show emotion except when he's laughing at Lando?

You try to stay out of comments. Hell, you try to stay off social media, it's nothing but a cesspool of people with too much time on their hands and not enough brain cells to comprehend more than the surface level of what they're shown. But sometimes you like it, because there are creative people who put out beautifully edited videos of your boyfriend. Sometimes you show them to him, enjoying his giggling while he watches and shakes his head over someone finding him attractive enough to warrant a thirty second video set to a Rihanna song.

But the comments about his emotionless black cat behavior hurt. He's so much more than how he portrays himself. He's vibrant and so full of life, and you will forever appreciate the people who see beyond his social anxiety and notice his amazing sense of humor, his passion for racing and life. They'll never know the real him and will probably never understand why you fell in love with him.

Him. The sweet and shy guy who'd come to your defense when a rude customer had been berating you over a wrong order. His voice had cut over her yelling, calm and measured, and after your manager had kicked out the irrationally angry woman it had been Oscar that had approached you to check on you, frowning when he saw your tears. His gentle tone had calmed you, his respectful stance had won your admiration, and his calling the woman a fucking cunt had made you smile.

You wish you could defend him as he continues to defend you. When a video questioning how a nobody like you had bagged a formula one rookie had gone somewhat viral he'd taken to twitter and unleashed such a beautifully worded rant that people were still quoting it more than a year later.

It's come to my attention that some so-called fans are referring to my girlfriend as a nobody. Allow me to introduce her to you. She's funny, she's brilliant, she's beautiful. She's every word you can think of to describe the perfect person and she's so much more. She shines light in the darkest corners of my soul. Her eyes are a map of my universe. When you look at us together, know that I am constantly trying to be worthy of the love she gives me, and know that if you speak ill of her you will never have my respect but you will have my disgust.

You would never ever doubt his love for you. Not that you ever had but that had cemented it. You could never come to his defense in such a way. If you even tried you'd be sneered at for being a try hard.

And really, you didn't need to. Because the one thing Oscar did not give a fuck about was anyone's opinion. Only a handful of people mattered enough to him for him to care what they thought. You were blessed to be included on that list.

You love him so much that for a while it scared you, having never fallen into the this one person is my moon and stars mindset. But now you understand. He didn't just hang them, he is your moon and stars. Your one and only and if for some reason this doesn't end in forever you'll be ruined for any other man.

It was still a shock, though, when you felt your heart stop beating as you watched his car careen towards the barrier. The front wing clipped Max's rear tire and you can't breathe, watching in slow motion as the brightly colored car tips and lifts into the air. There is nothing but absolute silence around you in the McLaren garage and you're frozen, staring at the monitor while his car flips and rolls, carbon fiber flying in every direction when it lands upside down, his helmet just visible as it slides to a stop at the safety fence.

Silence. Then pandemonium. Your world has just flipped and spun and you can't breathe, ears straining to hear him but you can only hear the crackle of the radio when Zak and Tom try to get him to respond.

Then, finally, his voice. Shaken and scared. "Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay."

Of course he'd ask after the others involved. You can finally breathe but it hurts, not knowing that he's okay. And you can't do anything but wait, heart barely beating until he's finally out, he's moving, he's giving the fans a thumbs up as he's put on the stretcher. You still can't do a thing and you've never felt more useless than you do while you're waiting just inside the medical center with Zak and Lando, who'd come to wait during the red flag.

Then the most beautiful words you've ever heard.

"He's okay."

There's more after that, about him being transported to the local hospital for a complete check, the possibility of a concussion but he's okay. And you're allowed to go see him while the ambulance is readied.

He's sitting up, looking a little pale but he's not hurt, he's in one piece, and when he sees you he gasps. You try to be gentle when you embrace him, but he steals your breath, holding you so tightly it hurts, his face pressed into your neck.

"They won't tell me - are Max and George okay?" His voice is strained and you feel his tears.

"They're fine, my love," you promise.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know what I did. I was going good and then I was upside down." His voice shakes and cracks and he's trembling, one hand fisting in your shirt. You reach for the other.

"Shh shh... It's okay my love," you whisper, your tears finally spilling when he guides your hand up, holding it to his cheek as he lets out a shaky breath. "Everyone's okay, you're okay."

His eyes meet yours and your world rights itself.

[kikikittykis]

Wearing His Jersey To a Game: Koushi Sugawara

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: Sugawara x reader

Summary: Cute HC's and one shot on wearing Suga's jersey to a game

Masterlist

So you had asked Suga if he had wanted to hang out and study for a bit before his game the next day

While you were “studying” at his house and you secretly swiped his spare jersey from his room since he’s already packed his main one

You let his mom know you had it just in case but you did not let Suga see since it was going to be part of a surprise for him

Which wasss……….

That you were gonna be at the game the next day!!

Wearing his number!! 

Supporting him when he needs it

When Suga went up to serve you started cheering for him

He saw you wearing the Number 2 jersey with a large #2 written right on your cheek too!

After that his serve and playing for the rest of the game had improved significantly!

Obv due to you being there for him!

“You’ve got this Koushi!!!” Sugawara heard a voice yell from the stands, He immediately knew who the voice was. As he started preparing to serve he took a quick glance to the stands where he was quickly able to find you clad in an Orange and Black Karasuno jersey that had the number 2 on it, his number! He also noticed that you even sported a #2 on your cheek. Suga’s mood and confidence were immediately boosted as he grinned at you before quickly turning his focus back to the game in front of him and his serve. Which went perfectly leaving Karasuno one more point closer to winning the game.

Karasuno won the game with flying colors winning both the first set and the second set one directly after. As soon as the game finished up you ran down to the team to congratulate Suga on his win. “Y/N!!” Suga yelled seeing you coming towards him and he ran towards you engulfing you in a big sweaty hug. “You actually were able to come,” Suga said as he looked at you and took your looks in. Taking in you wearing a jersey of his and the large 2 on your cheek.

“Of course I was Koushi, You guys were amazing today!” you gushed at him smiling from ear to ear.

“Nice one Sugawara-senpai, giving her your jersey to wear for the game. Man, I wish I had a girlfriend who would do that for me.” Nishinoya said and came over to the two of you with Tanaka in tow.

“Actually, Y/N how did you get my jersey since I didn't know you were coming to my game today?” Suga asked you, confused as to how you had his spare jersey.

“I may have swiped it from your room last night while we were hanging out, after you had packed so I took the right jersey, Sorry for not telling you I took it, I was making it a surprise for you,” you said to Suga hoping that he wasn’t upset with you though you knew that likely he’d never be upset at you for this.

“No, no worries Y/N, I loved the surprise so don’t worry about it!!” Suga said, he reassured you, then gave you another hug. He leaned over to give you a sweet kiss on your cheek, which held a number 2 on it in Black and orange, his number. Both you and him knew from that moment on that you were his biggest #1 fan forever.

[thatnonameuser]

What would the NRC students (specifically the dorm leaders) do if they found out MC used to be an idol in their world? Would they try to make MC sing for them or give them idol merch?

You specified the dorm leaders, so that's all I'm going to do right now.

Riddle Rosehearts

We already now Mrs. Rosehearts is the fun police so she probably told Riddle that music like yours rots the brain. But since he loves you, he won't judge. In fact, he loves your singing.

But then there's the real problem. He can't stand watching you sing for anyone else. He's consumed with jealousy at the sight of you performing for someone that is not him. And he won't allow it. So of course, he'll do what he does best and exploit the rules. He'll subtle about it, saying that there are rules against your performing, (It disturbs the flamingos, or something like that) and then push you do it somewhere where only he can see and hear it.

Regardless, he loves you, and your talents, it's just he'll behead whoever else gets to listen.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona really couldn't give a damn. No, he really can't give a damn. Your talents and skills don't really mean all that much to him. After all, he doesn't really care about his own, so caring about yours is a far off thing.

Unless you try to share them with someone that isn't him. That's the problem. While he doesn't care for your skills, he doesn't want you to ever share them with anyone else. You are his and only his, and that includes every last part of you.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is many things. Money hungry is one. He'll try to capitalise on your talents. Maybe he'll offer you a contract for money in exchange for you performing in the Monstro Lounge. You'll be bound by your voice. Made to sing and perform for him forever.

And greedy is the other. While he would try to capitalise your singing talents for his financial gain, he also is so possessive that he wants to be the only one to hear your voice. With his contract tying you to him, he'll snatch away your voice and leave you without it forever. That is unless, you sign a contract binding your mind, body and soul to him forever.

Kalim Al-Asim

All Kalim wants is for you to be happy, and if your performing makes you happy, then he'll love your idol past just as much as he loves you. He's a member of the light music club, so he can play for you while you perform. Maybe you could teach him how to sing better, that would a great bonding experience for the two of you.

But the dark side of all of this is how smothering he is, while he's not selfish over your talents, he's constantly pushing gifts onto you relevant to your career. You bring up wanting to perform again once and he'll buy an elite studio to practice in. Even if you reject him, the dejected look he makes, manipulates you into accepting to keep him happy, and Jamil off your back.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil understands whatever struggles you've experienced being on stage, the hard work, the fans who get too close, the endless need to be perfect....

He'll come to you as a friend, meaning well and sympathising with your experience. As an actor, he'll deceive you into lowering your guard till you start seeing him as a friend or something more. Despite the fact, he's just as obsessive as one of your deranged fans.

After the walls come down, his obsessive and perfectionist ways will start to come out. While he adores every note you sing, and every move you dance, he'll make you practice it over and over till your vocal chords are bloody and your muscles are screaming from agony.

I can see two options for you, one you'll be the hidden wife, meant only to sing and dance perfectly for him, or two, you'll be allowed to live your idol days again with Vil ensuring that you stay with only him.

Idia Shroud

Idia, plain and simple, is a simp. So if he finds out you're an idol, he will be your number one fan. He wants you to sing your entire discography, he'll even get the glowsticks in your favourite colour and everything. Even if you don't have any merch, he'll commission some and have you sign it.

But that's the end of the borderline healthy stuff. He wants there to be only two people that get to hear you sing or see your face and that's him and Ortho. So as your number one fan, he'll intends to be your only fan, so expect a swift kidnapping. But before that as a stalker yandere, he'll invade every facet of your privacy like the desperate fan in the bushes he is.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus already adore you. Everything about you is precious to him, so please sing for him. He's well versed in the violin, so if you'd like he'd play for you while you sang and danced. To him, your talents just make you even more cherished in his heart.

But....Malleus is very possessive. Like a dragon and his hoard, you need to be his and only his. So if you wish to sing like a nightingale, then expect that you'll be doing it from the gilded bars of a golden cage.

[ln444]

1D songs as f1 drivers prompts

included: lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lewis hamilton, george russell, max verstappen.

cw: slight angst.

note: i spent days making this omg 😭 i'm so glad it's finally out bc i'm a huge fan of one direction's songs (had my directioner era lol) i really hope you guys enjoy it ! also i was thinking about making it a serie, let me know if you're interested by any of the prompts !

click on the title to play the song!

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lando norris ☆ stole my heart (bestfriends in love)

“under the lights tonight, you turned around and you stole my heart with just one look, when i saw your face, i fell in love„

lando really tried. he attempted to bury his feelings as deeply as he could, but you make it so difficult. the way you're the only one who laughs at his silly jokes, the way you try not to miss any of his races (and send him a good luck text when you can't be there), the way you randomly smile down at him – he could talk about everything you do for hours because he loves and knows every single details about you. sometimes he hates how you make him feel because he just wants to say, 'fuck it,' and kiss you for hours and hours. he can't even count the number of times he's thought about kissing you or the countless times the three words almost slipped out of his mouth out of nowhere. but the thought of losing you forever hold him back everytime, he can't even imagine his life without you. he doesn't know how, but lando has fallen for you, really, really hard and it just keeps going, he just can't get enough of you.

oscar piastri ☆ 18 (teenage love)

“i have loved you since we were 18, long before we both thought the same thing, to be loved and to be in love„

oscar initially watched you from a distance, even memorizing your schedule to see you as often as possible. he'd daydream about finding excuses to start conversations with you, sometimes getting so lost in thought during class that he'd lose track of the lesson. then, one day, he finally gathered the courage to talk to you, pretending to need notes from a shared class. since that day, you began exchanging daily messages, making oscar dumbly smiling. you started having study sessions, eating lunch together, sitting together in your shared classes and he'd even wait to walk you home. and just like that, oscar start falling for you. he found himself daydreaming about you more often, imagining how it would feel to hold your hand and how your lips would feel on his. those thoughts would fluster him, but deep down, he hoped they might come true.

charles leclerc ☆ summer love

“you were my summer love, you'll always will be my summer love„

midnight swims, picnics, sneaking out to watch the stars, late-night talks, sharing earphones while lying on the beach, biking, taking pictures of each other with your old camera, whispering sweet words to each other when no one's watching. that's what makes summer your favorite season, because you get to be with charles. but why does being in love with charles have to be so complicated? why do you have to part ways when the summer ends? most importantly, what makes you hold onto this love, so complicated? maybe the fact that charles always promises to be there next summer and keep this promise — or the fact that you're madly in love with this boy—. the craziest part of all of this is how your love for each other never fades, to the point where charles promises to marry you and get a beach house where you can spend all your summers together when you grow up. charles always keeps his promises.

carlos sainz ☆ change your ticket (long distance)

“you should probably stay, probably stay a couple more days, come on let me change your ticket home, don't go, it's not the same when you go„

you never imagined that having an f1 driver as your boyfriend would be so challenging and that you'd have to spend half the year far from him. at first, it wasn't a big problem, and you got used to it quickly. but at times, it really tugged at your heart. carlos always makes sure to call you when he is free and send you texts at random times of the day to ask how's your day going and tell you how much he misses you, but it's not the same. carlos had asked you more than to join the venture, assuring you that his income would be more than enough for both of you. you thought about it—a lot—but the idea of making such significant changes held you back. now, when you think about it, you realize that losing carlos over a simple matter of distance would be a mistake, especially when there's a solution within reach. perhaps traveling the world with your f1 driver boyfriend isn't such a bad idea after all.

lewis hamilton ☆ heart attack (bestfriend's sister)

“got your voice in my head, sayin' «let's just be friends» [...] never thought it'd hurt so bad, getting over you„

lewis doesn't even know how he fell in love with you. perhaps it was the way your smile warms his heart or how you effortlessly make the most boring conversation so captivating. it seems so absurd that, out of all of the people, he fell for his bestfriend's sister. lewis never imagined that it will be this hard to fight his love for you and act like his mind is not filled with thoughts of you 24/7. how could he possibly get over you when just being in the same room as you drives him crazy? he thought about telling your brother, he really did but the thought of losing his long time friend and you along the way held him back. so he decided to bury his feelings deep in his heart and keep his thoughts in the back of his head. yet, with every echo of your laughter from the next room or just the sight of you, his heart would go crazy.

george russell ☆ loved you first

“i've been waiting all this time to finally say it but now i see your heart's been taken, and nothing could be worse, baby i loved you first„

george can't help but think about the stupid mistake he made a few months ago— not confessing his love for you. he had so many chances to do it, to tell you that he fell hard for you and he can't stop thinking about you. but the day he finally decided to do it, he didn't expect to find you arm in arm with another guy, totally breaking his heart. he just couldn't take it anymore, seeing you with him every day and acting like it was fine, as if the looks and smiles you gave him didn't warm his heart and make him want to take your hand and run as far as he could. because george, he's deeply in love, and it's getting deeper every single day. it's so unfair— he was there first, he loved you first. the worst part is that you know how george feels, and you might even feel the same way. george loved you first, and he's going to make sure that you know that.

max verstappen ☆ still the one (ex lovers)

“you're all i think about baby, i was so stupid for letting you go, you still the one„

max tried to date other girls, multiple times. however, it never felt the same. how is he supposed to move on when he's consumed by thoughts of you 24/7? he can't even engage in meaningful conversations with his dates because his mind always drifts back to you. he spends countless nights trying to erase you from his thoughts, to convince himself that it's truly over. yet, deep down, a flicker of hope for your love still lingers. max thought about the endless nights he's spent replaying your conversations and wondering what went wrong. he's haunted by the way your smile lit up his world and the warmth of your hand in his. even though he's tried to move forward, the heartache is still here, reminding him that sometimes, love refuses to fade.

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requests open!

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 5 - The man I used to be

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 5.6K

TWs: Angst, crying, angry!Elvis, self-esteem issues all-round, erectile dysfunction, body worship, praise kink, some smutty bits.

A/N: This is a difficult chapter for a number of reasons - there's a lot going on and a lot of complex emotions. Thanks to everyone who has commented and re-blogged so far, comments are life so the more I get the happier I am! And I know if you're enjoying it.

Elvis spends the next day wondering what he’s doing with Tegan. He sits at the piano, mid-afternoon, running through some scales and a few snatches of songs. He looks around the empty living room. It’s harder to get a house full of people nowadays. The guys are older and they spend more time with their families than they used to. He can get plenty of people round for an event - the barbeque the other weekend proved that - but there’s not the constant presence of guys and fans and family like back in the seventies or even the eighties. The divorce had coincided with a slow drift of people out of his life and into their own. Lisa doesn’t even stay in Graceland when she’s back in Memphis, even though he’d tried asking her to. She’s working on her new relationship, and she wants to spend time with her boyfriend when she’s in Memphis, not with her dad.

For the first time in a long time, Elvis realises he’s lonely. He’s been keeping himself busy for years now with the karate schools, but he can’t stay in Memphis for more than a month at a time. It’s hard to persuade someone to come round for dinner every night; sometimes he has to eat alone. He’s kept moving so he barely notices, but sitting in the living room at Graceland, silent save for his absent-minded piano tinkling, he realises how much he craves company. Last night had gone by so quickly, Tegan was so easy to talk to and her skin was so soft. He’s missed more than just conversation and company. He’s missed sex too. He had liked playing with her and finding out what turns her on, and he had liked watching her lose herself to pleasure too. 

He puts the lid down on the piano and rests his elbows on it, head in his hands. He remembers calling her a needy thing because she wanted to see him before Tuesday. He groans. He wants to see her right now, and he wants to keep her here with him forever. It hurts, being here alone, being without her, wanting her so badly. The loneliness that he’d been holding at bay for so long comes crashing through his defences, hitting him like a tidal wave. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes and run down his nose, splashing on the piano lid. Fuck. 

“Daddy?”

He’d been so wrapped up in his own sadness he hadn’t noticed the sound of the door closing and when he looks up he sees Lisa standing there, with Riley and Ben. He quickly wipes his eyes and stands up.

“Hey! How are my two favourite grandkids, hm?”

Riley rolls her eyes, letting him hug her. “We’re your only grandkids, Elvis.”

He looks up at Lisa. “She got this from you, y’know. Callin’ me Elvis.”

Lisa laughs and tells both kids to go and raid the kitchen for lunch. 

Riley runs off towards the kitchen immediately but Ben pauses, unsure. He tugs Elvis’ sleeve. Elvis bends down and picks him up easily, cuddling the little boy to him and kissing the top of his head. 

“What’s up, punk?”

Lisa snorts at her dad calling her son “punk”. 

“Have you been crying?” Ben puts a little hand against Elvis’ face and stares into his eyes with grave concern. 

“Little bit.”

“Why?”

Elvis lets out a huff of air. Why had he been crying? “Jus’ felt a little sad, s’all.” He brushes Ben’s hair back off his forehead. “Much happier now you’re here.” He squeezes the little boy tightly and then looks at him again to see how that statement fell. 

Ben’s big eyes still look worried. Lisa thinks he’s way too worried, always, for a five year old. 

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure I’m better now you and Riley are here? Of course I’m sure. Why dontcha go help ya sister find some lunch, hm? Mary’ll help ya. Ya must be hungry, growin’ little fella like you?”

Ben nods solemnly and allows himself to be put down, walking slowly and purposefully to the kitchen. Elvis frowns a little. “Are ya sure he’s five and not fifty five, Yis?”

She sighs and puts an arm around her dad, laying her head on his shoulder. “Well he’s very perceptive for a five year old, I’ll give him that. You ok?”

“Think anyone coulda seen me cryin’ back there. Even a little kid.”

His arm goes around her too, pulling her close. 

“You okay?” She asks again. 

Elvis makes a sort of grumbling noise and moves to sit on the sofa. Lisa sits next to him and waits patiently for a response. Or, as patiently as she can. When another two minutes of strange silence have passed she huffs and pokes him in the side. 

“You gonna tell me?”

“Not gonna get away without, am I?” He mutters. “Lonely here, Yis. On my own a lot.”

“What about Tegan?”

“Saw her last night.” His face breaks into a smile. “She came for dinner.”

Lisa sits up and grins. “And?”

The smile continues to play on his lips as he thinks about her on his lap all night, talking to him about her tattoos. “It was good.”

“Good? Is that it?!”

“I like her, Yis. I really like her. But she’s so much younger, I jus’... I dunno.”

Lisa shakes her head. “Don’t see what difference that makes. She’s not Stella, or mom. She’s her own person. You have to give it a try on its own terms.”

“‘M tryin’.”

“Why don’t you invite her round for lunch now?”

He shakes his head. “‘M try’na take it slow.”

Lisa falls back against the sofa cushions with a bump, sighing loudly. “Why?”

Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Because I don’t wanna fuck it up, okay?” He stands up and starts to move towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna get somethin’ to eat if the locusts haven’t got ta everythin’ already.”

Lisa watches him go, and then realises she’s hungry too and gets up herself. She’s surprised at her dad taking anything slowly, but perhaps he knows what he’s doing. She supposes she’ll have to wait and see.

***

“Ya need to really protect yourself with yer arms. No. C’mere.” Elvis stands in front of Tegan, a forearm in each hand, and manoeuvres them around as she steps back. “Y’see?”

She tries hard to keep a straight face but she can’t help giggling. “Yeah… kinda.”

Elvis puts on a mock-serious face. “No laughin’ at karate. ‘Sa serious sport.”

Still trying not to laugh, she attempts the block again, but when he grabs one of her arms and moves it where it’s supposed to go she fails and starts giggling.

“C’mon. Again. On yer own.”

Letting out a breath, she tries to compose herself. “O-okay. So, like… this?” 

He shrugs a little and gives his head a little shake. “Better than it was before. Practise at home. Now, step forward and snap punch. No… mid-chest. C’mon. Really try an’ punch me. That’s better.”

He makes her go through the two step move a few more times and then tells her and the rest of the group that they can go and get another drink. She gulps down some water and then passes the bottle to Maria. 

“You two are getting on well,” Maria observes with a wry smile. 

Tegan can’t help smiling back. “Yeah. I went to Graceland for dinner at the weekend.”

“You did?” Maria’s eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “You didn’t mention it!”

“Well, I know you’re not keen.”

“Oh T, it’s not that. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Tegan nods slowly. “I know.” She’s about to continue when Elvis calls them back to class. “I’ll tell you later.”

When the class finishes the rest of the students file out and Elvis realises only Tegan and Maria are left. Maria realises too, telling her friend she’ll see her in the car and giving Elvis a quick wave. Tegan picks up her bag as he makes his way towards her, a broad smile on his face. 

“Ya need ta practice more at home,” he tells her, forefinger under her chin, tipping her face towards his so he can press a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Maybe I need some private tuition?” 

He takes his sunglasses off and holds her face firmly in his hand, kissing her deeply. Her hands make their way around his neck as she presses her body against his. 

“Ya can come home with me right now an’ I’ll teach ya some things…” he mumbles against her lips, intoxicated by the feel of her, the way she smells. 

“Yes please.”

He pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, panting a little. “I shouldna said that.”

She pouts a little. “Why?”

“I’m tryna take this slow.”

She groans. “Well don’t kiss me like that then!” 

“Sorry, honey. Got carried away. Yer always makin’ me get carried away…” he strokes her cheek gently with his finger. 

“Maybe that means something? Maybe you should just… get carried away.”

He giggles, his apple cheeks prominent as he looks down at her. “Temptin’. But ya should go home, sure ya have work in the mornin’…”

“Well, yeah. You still coming for dinner at the weekend?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

“Okay, see you then.”

***

Elvis enjoys dinner at Tegan’s apartment. She cooks him a roast and he teases her about nearly all of the components, but he gobbles down the whole plate and asks for seconds. She even manages to persuade him to try a gin and tonic, although he doesn’t ask for a second one of those. They talk and joke around and at some point the teasing turns to touching and he’s making her cum on her sofa this time. She asks again, but he’s still not interested in getting anything in return. Their relationship continues like this for weeks - they see one another on Saturday nights and at karate, they get closer, but not too close. He gives her an orgasm every time he sees her, but he won’t even take his shirt off, never mind let her touch his dick. He brings her flowers and trinkets, but he’s afraid to take her out in public in case they’re hounded by the press. She loves being with him, but she feels like he keeps her at arm’s length. She’s fully in this, but it’s like he’s just standing in the shallow end, watching her. 

She doesn’t feel like she can tell Maria, so when her friend asks she just says everything’s going well, they’re taking it slowly, getting to know each other. But she’s not sure how much longer she can keep waiting for him to feel more comfortable with her, or want to dive right in the deep end and lose control. She can’t understand what’s holding him back, and is trying to work out how to broach the subject with him at Graceland that evening, when the phone rings unexpectedly and it's Elvis inviting her to the zoo. First of all she thinks he’s joking, and then when she realises he’s not she agrees enthusiastically. She does love animals, and they will actually be seen together in person. Perhaps she’s been patient enough, and she doesn’t need to talk to him at all. Things have just worked out on their own. He tells her he’ll pick her up in half an hour and she hurries to get ready. 

***

“Honey, ya need ta know somethin’,” Elvis tells her as she gets into the car and he kisses her hello. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Ya might be in the papers tomorrow. If someone spots us an’ takes a photo…”

She shrugs. How bad could it be? “Okay, cool.”

He stares at her intensely for a moment. “They could say all kindsa things about ya. Jus’ want ya ta be prepared.”

She nods. “Okay.”

Elvis doesn’t think she’s taking him seriously enough but he’s not sure what else he can say. 

She sees him frowning a little and kisses his cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Take me to the zoo!”

***

Tegan enjoys the zoo until the paparazzi arrive. She’d thought that because there was hardly anyone outside Graceland anymore and people in the karate classes treated him mostly as if his being there was completely normal, that the press wasn’t bothered about Elvis Presley anymore. Boy was she wrong. Someone had obviously tipped them off, and from the penguin enclosure onwards they were harassed by men with cameras and reporters shouting questions. Wanting to know who she was, how they met, how long they’d been together, did they plan to get married? Had she met his daughter, was she the same age as his daughter, what were they doing at the zoo? And another million intrusive questions that Elvis starts off answering politely and eventually instructs Sonny to answer “no comment” to, on his behalf. 

“Goddamnit,” he hisses, as they finally get back into the car. He pulls the curtains so that no-one can see in through the windows and Sonny drives them this time. “I knew it’d be bad. Didn’t think it’d be that bad.”

Tegan feels a little overwhelmed herself but Elvis is her main concern. He’s gripping one of her hands tightly and sweat is running down his face as he mumbles about the paparazzi and the damn reporters. 

“It’s okay,” she whispers, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his thigh. 

He huffs air out of his nose like a furious bull. “None of their goddamn business. Any of it.”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t get upset.”

He abruptly lets go of her hand and springs back from her. “Don’t get upset!” He exclaims, eyes wide behind his sunglasses. “Don’t get upset! Goddamn.”

Tegan isn’t going to be put off that easily. “I just mean, don’t let them get to you like this. I don’t like to see you so upset.”

She rubs his arm now, in the same gentle but firm way. 

“Well it doesn’t matter what ya like, does it?” He spits. “I’m fucking upset.”

It’s Tegan’s turn to spring back now, eyes flaming. “Don’t fucking take it out on me!”

Sonny looks at the curtain in the rearview mirror, not that it reveals anything. He’d warned Elvis about going to the zoo in the middle of the day, but to be fair not even he had thought it would be this bad. Both of them were unused to the ferocity of the paparazzi, even in Memphis. He’s surprised that Tegan bit back though. He had thought of her as a little timid for some reason. 

They stare at one another for a while, both furious but neither able to decide the next move. Elvis can’t remember the last time a woman yelled at him and he’s shocked into silence, and Tegan is furious about the way he spoke to her, and isn’t about to back down. She didn’t like his tone just then and it was making her want to tell Sonny to pull the car over so she could get out. 

Eventually Elvis huffs loudly and turns away from her, staring straight ahead at the curtain, realises that it’s still closed and opens it with a grunt. Daylight pours into the back of the car and Tegan squints and looks around for her sunglasses. 

“Sorry,” Elvis mutters sheepishly, when he thinks she’s suitably occupied digging about in her handbag. 

She pauses, then looks over at him. “It’s okay.”

He takes a few steadying breaths and then looks at her properly. “Ya were right, I was takin’ it out on ya. Ya were only tryna calm me down.”

Sliding her sunglasses on, she looks over at him. “I know. You were being an arse.”

Sonny catches Elvis’ eye in the mirror and all three of them burst out laughing. Elvis doesn’t think anyone has ever called him an arse before, but he has to admire her for doing it. 

“Yer lucky I’m lettin’ ya get away with that,” he replies, winking behind his glasses. 

They drive back to Graceland, and Sonny and his wife join them for dinner. Tegan has met Sonny’s wife a couple of times and is getting to like her, and Judy is fond of the younger woman too. Her and Sonny had both remarked to each other, and Elvis himself, how much happier he seems lately, and Judy wants to make sure he stays that way almost as much as her husband does. They all watch a little TV together and play some cards, and Tegan is happy to spend some time with people who’ll actually drink with her. Although, as she watches Sonny finish off his fourth bourbon rocks, she wonders who is going to drive her home. 

Judy yawns delicately and then gives Sonny a sharp elbow in the side. He looks around a little slowly, his reactions dulled by all the bourbon. 

“Huh? Oh…” he looks over at Elvis and Tegan, who are cuddled up on the sofa at this point. “I uh… think we should be getting home.”

“Oh.” Elvis suddenly clocks that Sonny is drunk and he doesn’t know how he’s going to get Tegan home. “Yeah, sure. Thanks fer comin’.”

They get up and say their goodbyes, and once they’ve left Elvis turns to Tegan. “I spose I better drive ya, honey.”

She puts her hands on his shoulders and then slides them down over his chest. “Or… I could stay over?”

He can feel his face getting red thinking about her seeing him naked. It had been a very long time since a woman had seen him naked. 

“I…um…”

She starts to slowly unbutton his shirt, moving to press soft kisses to the skin she uncovers there. His chest hair is white like the hair on his head, and she’s seen it before underneath his gi. But she hasn’t ever got to touch it, and she can’t help running her fingers through it as she continues to unbutton his shirt. He feels like he’s completely frozen on the spot, just watching her as she carries on with her little touches and kisses until his shirt is hanging open. 

“Please?” She puts her head to one side and tries to look cute. 

His breathing is uneven as he stares down at her, still unable to formulate a response. She gently pushes his shirt off his shoulders and encourages his arms out of the sleeves. He stands in front of her, topless, watching as she presses yet more kisses up his arms and across his chest. His eyes flick uneasily down to his belly, which isn’t exactly small these days, but that gets kisses too, and gentle touches, and he can feel himself melting. 

“C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

“Okay,” he finally replies, trying to get some of the upper hand back by sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

She giggles, her arms around his neck, pleased at being literally swept off her feet. He manages to open the door to his bedroom without putting her down, and she stares around it in wonder, squinting into the darkness. 

“I’ll put a lamp on,” he mumbles, putting her down carefully and moving over to the side of the bed, flicking a switch. 

It doesn’t get much lighter in the room, but she can see the size of the bed which is almost unreal. She shivers a little. It’s not exactly warm; it seems like he has the AC on full blast. He looks over at her nervously, but she’s still occupied looking around, so he moves over to one of the sets of drawers and searches for some pyjamas. He’d be more comfortable in them and probably so would she. It takes him a few minutes to locate a couple of sets and when he turns back his mouth actually drops open looking at her. She’s standing there, completely naked, looking over at him. 

“H-honey… I… yer…” he can’t make the words come out of his mouth. He’s seen everything before but not all at once, and it’s kind of overwhelming. “Yer naked,” he finally manages. 

She giggles. “Yeah I know. This is how I sleep. And walk around the apartment sometimes too.”

His eyes somehow get even wider. “Ya walk around like that? I don’t think ya should…”

She shrugs and then rubs her arms with her hands, melodramatically. “I’m getting cold. Why don’t you come over here and warm me up?”

“Well if ya were wearin’ clothes…” he starts, but he’s walking towards her anyway, and she cuts him off with a kiss, pressing her naked body up against his. He moans into her mouth. Her skin feels so good against his, he can even feel those little metal bars in her nipples, a tiny touch of cold. His hand spreads across her back, pulling her in even closer, but somehow he doesn’t stop her wandering hands. One skates down his back but the other sneaks between them and before he can do anything, she’s squeezing his still soft dick. She barely reacts when she doesn’t find what she was expecting, but he almost leaps backwards like he’s been burnt. 

“Ah…uh… I’m s-sorry baby… it’s not you… I-I-I…”

“Hey. It’s okay,” she tries to reply but he darts off into the ensuite, pyjamas in hand. 

Tegan sits on the bed for a moment, looking at the closed door and wondering if he plans on hiding out in the bathroom all night. She supposes he won’t, but honestly she can’t tell. The coldness of the room persuades her under the covers, and she wonders what he’s going to say when he eventually comes back into the room again. She was only a little surprised to find him so soft when she touched him. It made sense really, when she thought back over the past few weeks that they’d been together. He never wanted her to return the favour when he gave her an orgasm, he was so awkward about the relationship in the first place, and he never wanted to let her take his clothes off. The look on his face after she’d touched him, the way he’d jumped away from her… it hurts her heart. She just wants to give him pleasure like he’s been giving her for all these weeks, but he seems so damaged about the whole thing. She frowns. It’s not as if he’s the first guy she’s been with who hasn’t been able to get it up sometimes. 

Elvis gets changed shakily, then stands in his pyjamas, gripping the sink with both hands and staring into the mirror. Stupid old man, he thinks. She’ll never be interested now she knows your dick doesn’t work. For a while he seriously considers sleeping on the bathroom floor, but then he realises he can’t get around going back into the bedroom and facing Tegan. He opens the door slowly, walking into the room almost sheepishly. 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles. This is turning into a day of apologies. 

She pulls the covers back, exposing her naked body to him. He can’t help but look at it hungrily, despite what had just happened. “C’mere.” She pats the mattress next to her. 

“I hope you’re sorry about running off, not anything else?” She asks as he gets in cautiously. 

“Sure I disappointed ya.”

Lying on his back, unable to look at her. 

“I’m not disappointed,” she replies, curling her body around his. “I’ve been looking forward to waking up with you.”

“Thought ya might’ve wanted somethin’ else,” he mutters. 

Her hand rubs his chest, then moves to his belly. She feels him tense and starts to kiss his neck as her hand keeps touching him. 

“I want to make you feel good, ‘raur. I’m not in a rush to do anything else.”

He sighs. “Don’t think that’s really possible.”

“Sure you’re not just out of practice?”

Elvis groans and closes his eyes, willing the conversation away. This is not something he wants to be talking about with anyone, let alone a girl twenty years his junior. 

“Jus’ leave it.”

Tegan doesn’t really want to just leave it, she wants to understand it and find a way to fix it. But Elvis clearly isn’t in the headspace for that kind of conversation right now, so she decides to try a different tack. 

“God, you smell so good.” Burying her face in his chest, she breathes him in. 

He can’t help his lips curling into a half-smile. “Really, Queenie?”

She flicks the top button of his pyjamas open and presses kisses to the exposed skin there, her hand running over his nipple through the shirt. 

“You haven’t called me that in a while. And yes, really.”

He hums with pleasure, his hand running through her hair as she keeps kissing and praising him. 

“You’re so strong, it’s so sexy.”

“Huh?” He’s blushing a little but he doesn’t want her to stop. 

“Carrying me up the stairs.” She looks up at him as she deftly undoes another button. “Very sexy.”

He feels her hand inside his shirt now, rubbing and touching. She pinches a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and gets a low moan in response. 

“Q-Queenie…”

“I can’t believe how gorgeous you are.” 

She quickly undoes all of the rest of the buttons, and for the second time that evening his shirt is hanging open and her hands and mouth are all over his torso. He lets out a soft sigh and when her hand moves down under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms he doesn’t stop it. She slowly slides his foreskin back and forth, squeezing a little and feeling him start to respond. Her mouth and other hand continue their ministrations on his belly and chest, hoping to distract him from worrying about what his dick might be doing. She feels him getting harder and pushes his pants down so she can get at him more easily, sliding her mouth over the head and giving him little kitten licks. He moans, looking down at her for a moment and then looking away, disgusted by his own body again. His erection starts to fade and he screws his eyes shut and huffs in frustration. She tries to stimulate him for a little longer, but it’s clear it’s not coming back, so she stops, pulling his pyjama bottoms up carefully and leaning her head back on his chest. 

He can’t speak. He doesn’t know whether not being able to get it up at all, or having half an erection that went away when he thought about it too much was worse. Both things were horribly embarrassing, and he can only imagine she’ll leave at the first opportunity, and not want to see him again. 

“We should sleep,” he says, turning over and dislodging her. 

He switches the light off and she stares, confused, into the dark from her position on her back. 

“We can try again in the morning,” she suggests, quietly. 

“Hmmm.”

She still wants to push it, but she knows she shouldn’t. This is too delicate. She wishes she could tell him that she doesn’t care, even if he never gets another erection she’d still want him more than she’s ever wanted anyone, but that seems too much. The intensity of her feelings for him seems like too much, considering how long they’ve known one another. She hasn’t told anyone how she feels; she’s convinced Maria would try and get her committed if she knew. She rolls onto her other side and tries to get to sleep. They can try again in the morning. 

***

Neither of them sleep that well. Even though the bed is huge, they’ve both got used to sleeping on their own and someone else being there is disturbing. Elvis sleeps particularly badly, unable to stop himself wondering what Tegan must think and whether she’ll ever want to see him again. He looks at her as she lies there, peacefully, and wonders what on earth she’s doing in his bed. She could do a lot better. 

“Oh, hi there, gorgeous,” she murmurs as she opens her eyes and sees him leaning over, looking at her. 

He carefully moves her hair out of her eyes. “Mornin’ beautiful.”

Her face breaks into a smile. “Mmmmm. Come here.” Pulling his face towards hers, kissing him deeply. 

He shifts, rolling on top of her and relishing the feeling of her hands underneath his unbuttoned shirt, running up and down his back. She lets one trail a little lower, grabbing a handful of his ass and pushing her hips up into his. He can feel himself getting harder, his dick is always a little more cooperative in the morning and something about her body and his drowsy state is turning him on. The thoughts that had plagued him during the night drift away and his head feels pleasantly empty. He finds himself starting to kiss and nip at her neck as she pushes his pyjama bottoms down, feeling him now too. She moves her legs to wrap them around his waist, and as his dick rubs against her pussy she feels delicious pleasure building between her legs. Drowsy too and not caring how she gets there, she moans softly at the feeling. He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying rolling his hips against her, feeling like a teenager again. But he wants more. Moving back a little, he lines himself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip before starting to push inside. 

But it’s not just Elvis who hasn’t done this in a long time, and Tegan almost yelps at the intrusion. She’s tight at the best of times, and with no warm up and no lube it’s almost impossible. 

“Oh!” She cries out, shifting back from him instinctively. 

The moment it happens, his erection fades. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. 

“Elvis, I’m sorry…” she begins, but he just covers himself up again and rolls off her and then out of the bed. 

“Ya want breakfast? Mary’ll make ya eggs. Or… whatever ya want. Come down when yer ready.”

She stares as he takes a robe off the door and wraps it around himself and then just walks out of the room. She feels humiliated and confused. Okay, yeah, he’d gone soft. Embarrassing. But she’d been too small for him, or too tight, or not turned on enough… she gets up slowly, putting on her clothes from the day before. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d stayed in bed and held her for a while. In fact, she’d have liked it. She wishes that’s what he’d done, rather than leaving her like this. Checking her hair in the bathroom mirror, she sighs at her reflection. Maybe if she was more attractive this would all have been easier. 

Walking slowly down the stairs, she looks around again. So opulent. But so quiet. So lonely. When she gets to the kitchen she finds Elvis staring at the Sunday papers. 

Has-been Presley dating woman half his age.

The headline is big, and as she gets nearer she can see a lot of unflattering photos of both of them. Then she sees some of the text of the article. 

Washed up King of Rock n Roll, Elvis Presley, was seen today at Memphis Zoo with a woman young enough to be his daughter. A far cry from the attractive starlets he used to be seen with, the unknown female is hardly a looker.

“Oh wow,” Tegan says, quietly. It’s one thing to know you’re not Helen of Troy, and it’s another thing to see it written there in black and white. 

Elvis had been staring at the paper for a while now, and every so often some of the words had gone in. He knew there would be a nasty story about them, but he’s unused to the reality of it after so long. And he didn’t expect them to be quite this cruel about Tegan. Hearing her voice he’s suddenly spurred into action, tearing out the pages and screwing them up, hurling them across the room. 

“Fucking assholes,” he shouts. 

She puts a hand on his arm. “Elvis, it’s okay.” She doesn’t even really believe herself at this point, after everything that’s already happened this morning, but she feels she has to say something.

“The things they wrote about ya… it’s my fault.” He turns to her and shakes his head sorrowfully. “Ya better go.”

“What?”

“Ya better go. I’m no good for ya. Jus’ go.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“I do.”

Tegan tries begging and pleading with him, tries rationalising the situation, tries to ask why and persuade him to talk. But none of it works. He just keeps repeating that she ought to go and she’d be better off without him. It's like he's shut down completely. Despite his previous pronouncement that cabs don’t come to Graceland, he calls her one and sends her off in it. He won’t even kiss her goodbye. She sits there on the backseat trying to figure out exactly what the fuck had just happened, how she’d gone from him rutting against her in the bed one minute to throwing her out the next. And then she gets home and just cries. And cries. And wonders how the fuck she’s going to get her life back.

***

Part 6

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss

[megalony]

This Is Fate- Part 3

This is the newest part in my Dark! Evan Buckley series, I hope you all like it, feedback is always amazing.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz

@5hundreddaysofsummer @soryuwifeyxx @targaryenluvs

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is surprised when his little sister comes to LA and asks to stay with him. She needs a fresh start, a break away from everything back home, and her ex. When she meets the team, Evan takes a special interest in her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*2 missed calls. *4 unread messages.

Oh dear. It was starting again. (Y/n) could feel her breakfast crawling up the back of her throat as she stared down at her phone, chewing on her nail out of nervous habit.

It was okay. Everything was okay. This wasn't the same as it was before. She wasn't getting fifteen messages every hour and five to ten missed calls like she did when she tried to ghost Evan and move on from him.

She didn't want to read his messages, but something in her gut told her she had to. Ignoring them wouldn't make them go away and ignoring Evan wouldn't make him stop. He knew where she was. He knew she was pregnant and he was worming his way back into her life. What good would ignoring him do now?

When she first broke things off with him, Evan pretended she hadn't said anything. He called and messaged as if they were still a loving couple. But then he began getting anxious. He followed her, he tracked where she was going. He got angry when she started to ignore him and he wouldn't stop. He wouldn't leave her alone.

He turned up outside her old job, outside Chrissy's house. When she changed her number he somehow found out her new one and spammed her with messages and calls.

He told her he loved her and she couldn't throw that away. He had been desperate to find someone to connect with and settle down with like the rest of his friends. Evan wanted what life didn't seem to give him and once he found (Y/n), he knew she was the girl he wanted to be with. It didn't matter to him what he had to do to keep her, as long as she was his.

And now she was pregnant, she always would be.

She knew she couldn't avoid him or ignore him forever, especially not for very long before he would come to find her and talk to her in person. She may as well take the plunge and read the messages she had gotten this morning.

Slumping her bag down on the table, (Y/n) flopped into a seat and dragged her free hand through her hair.

She was suddenly glad she had turned up to her first shift at the call centre ten minutes early.

*Morning, how are my girls today? XX

Missed Call.

*Please don't tell me you're ignoring me (Y/n). Especially not after the fun we had the other day.

*I want to see you, will you come over to mine for coffee tomorrow after my shift? Please.

Missed Call.

*(Y/n) you were the one who said we need to talk about this, that's what I want. You're here in LA, I'm back here for good and back at work. And I know you don't want to do this alone, I want to be involved, this is my baby too. Just let me know.

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine and she turned off her phone and dropped her head down onto her folded arms on the table.

He was right. As manic as he was starting to sound in those texts, he was right. They needed to talk, they had to work things out and decide what they were going to do and where they were going from this point onwards.

But (Y/n) didn't want to go round and talk with Evan if it was going to end up how things ended last week.

She didn't want to end up in bed with him.

It would be a better idea to meet for a drink in a cafe, somewhere public where Evan would have a hard time dragging (Y/n) to bed or clinging to her and never letting her go. Staying at his place sounded dangerous.

Once, when they had been in a heated argument, Evan had locked his apartment door back when he lived near Chrissy and he hid the keys. He effectively locked (Y/n) in his home and wouldn't let her leave. It didn't matter how scared he made her or how she cried and begged him to let her go so they could both cool off.

He told her in no uncertain terms that he 'knew she was going to leave and he wasn't letting it happen'. He wouldn't lose another girlfriend, someone he felt a big connection to. He wasn't going to let (Y/n) walk out and leave him.

She had to stay with Evan for two days in his apartment until he cooled down and apologised. (Y/n) couldn't do that again. Not when she was pregnant and knew this would rile up the dark side of Evan that she never wanted to see again.

She lifted her head off her arms when her phone vibrated on the table. Another message.

*Oh, and enjoy your first day at work. XX

How did he know she was starting a new job today? How did Evan know this was her first day? How did he even know she had a job lined up?

Had Eddie told him? Did Eddie tell him where she was working, or just briefly mention in conversation that she had a job now?

Maybe Chris told him. Chris was happy that (Y/n) had a job because it meant she was permanently staying here with them. He knew she wasn't going to go home or leave LA if she had a job here and that was what Chris wanted. He wanted his family all here with him. He wanted (Y/n) to stay and be here with him and Eddie.

As long as he didn't know where she worked or started to come round and wait for her after work like he used to.

When she met Evan, he wasn't at work, he was on sick leave because of the surgeries he needed for his leg. That was why he left LA for a while and when he met (Y/n). He had a lot of time on his hands and mixed with his anxiety, it made him obsessive. He knew what days she was working without (Y/n) having to tell him. He waited around for her after work to walk her home and wouldn't leave.

Evan messaged her and if she didn't reply, the messages became more demanding, more crippling and concerning and frightening.

He wouldn't let go, he wouldn't relent and he wouldn't stop stop overwhelming her.

"Oh, hi. You must be the new starter."

(Y/n) looked up from her phone and did her best to smile when she looked at who walked into the break room.

She looked a little older than (Y/n), with long chocolate brown hair that reached her shoulders and kind dark eyes that creased at the corners when she smiled. Rings dotted her fingers and two necklaces hung round her neck dangling beneath her maroon shirt with the dispatch logo in the corner.

"Hi, yeah I'm (Y/n)." She put her phone in her bag and shuffled her chair further under the table as she tried to sit up straight.

"I'm Maddie, lovely to meet you." She took a seat at the table and when they shook hands, (Y/n) felt herself starting to relax.

Maybe she was going to make some new friends here. She didn't have many friends in her last job. And (Y/n) knew she wasn't going to be working here for long before she went off on maternity leave. She wasn't sure if that was going to screw with trying to make friends and get along with colleagues here.

(Y/n) just wanted a fresh start with her family in LA and she had to make the most of it because Evan was here too. He wasn't going to make this the new start she wanted, this fresh start was going to include him whether (Y/n) liked it or not.

"So, where did you work before here?"

"A few different places, really… I used to live in Texas."

She watched something wash over Maddie's face, whether it was recognition or surprise she couldn't be sure. But it made her eyes crinkle and her cheeks puffed out as she grinned softly. It was as if they had been friends for months rather than just meeting and somehow, (Y/n) felt like she already knew the woman sitting beside her.

"Oh, (Y/n), you know I thought I recognised you. You're Eddie's sister, right? Buck said you were starting work here, it's lovely to meet someone else connected to the team."

"You know the 118?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer or not.

She could feel all the blood draining down to her toes and her head started to swim. Another person connected to the famous station. The station where her brother worked and her ex- was he really her ex after last week- was the golden boy who could do no wrong.

Everyone loved Evan. (Y/n) loved Evan, but why did she have to be the only one who saw the dark side of him?

"Oh I know them very well. Buck's my little brother and I'm sort of, dating Chimney." She smiled and leaned her head to one side, but her words felt like rocks settling in the pit of (Y/n)'s stomach.

This was Evan's sister.

This was the girl who raised him, the one he thought of as more of a mother than a sister. His guardian angel.

She worked at the call centre. (Y/n) was going to be working alongside Evan's big sister. Evan was going to be able to find out what shifts she was working, just like he managed back home. He would know if something happened at work or if she tried to sneak off to an appointment without telling him. Every movement she made, Evan was going to find out. Again.

Nothing was going to change. (Y/n) wanted this baby to change things. Since seeing Evan again, she prayed that maybe their daughter would switch his attitude. She hoped their girl would curb his actions and calm him down and make him relaxed and less anxious. If his obsessive behaviour dwindled down (Y/n) would be able to try and make their relationship work.

But if she worked alongside his sister, how was anything going to change if Evan started asking questions? If he started his old behaviour up again, (Y/n) had no chance of working things out with him.

"Are you okay? You look a little flushed." Maddie reached across the table and rested her hand on (Y/n)'s arm.

"First day jitters." (Y/n) could barely hear herself speak and she knew her voice was wavering and rather unconvincing, but she couldn't risk giving anything away. She couldn't say she was panicked that now Evan would know everything about her.

She couldn't say that Maddie's brother who she clearly thought the world of was someone who (Y/n) both loved and felt terrified of at the same time.

(Y/n) pushed her chair back and reached down to pick up her bag, but she stopped when Maddie took a sharp breath and her smile turned brighter when she looked down at (Y/n)'s stomach.

"Do you want some water?"

She was already up out of her seat before (Y/n) had chance to answer. (Y/n) slowly got up and followed Maddie over to the counter where the tea and coffee machines were and she tried to smile when Maddie handed her a bottled water from the fridge.

"How far along are you, five months?" She nodded her head towards (Y/n)'s stomach before she added "I used to be a nurse." But (Y/n) already knew that. She had heard Evan talk a lot about his big sister. She should have guessed when Maddie said her name that this might be the sister Evan was always going on about.

"Twenty-one weeks." (Y/n) looked down and danced her hand across her stomach but the touch made her shiver. All she could think about and imagine was the way Evan barely let go of her stomach whenever he came close the other day.

Finding out they were having a girl just made everything more real and made Evan unable to look away from her or let her go.

"Buck didn't mention it, congratulations. I bet your family and partner are thrilled."

"Overjoyed." (Y/n) mumbled quietly because it was the truth.

Her brother and nephew and Evan were overjoyed with the baby and knowing (Y/n) was having a little girl. But it wasn't going to last long when (Y/n) told their parents and when she eventually had to come clean to Eddie about Evan's involvement in all of this.

Finding her phone in her pocket, (Y/n) fished it out and clicked on Evan's contact.

*Tomorrow after your shift works for me. Let's talk.

***

"Do you want a drink?"

(Y/n) took a moment to steady her nerves and look around the apartment while she nodded. It was cosy.

The kitchen was what (Y/n) expected. Lots of plates and cups scattered about rather than placed in the cupboards. Notes, papers and what she guessed were recipes flowing from one of the top drawers for easy access. Evan had a scattered mind, he was always doing something and switching from one thing to the next.

He got sidetracked putting things away and it seemed easier leaving clean cups on the side so he could grab them in a hurry and have papers scattered around the apartment in case he needed them. She could see books fluttered about the apartment too which proved he couldn't stick to one story at a time. Too many train of thoughts and not enough tracks in his mind.

She leaned against the kitchen counter and tried to smile when Evan handed over a cup of iced tea.

She wanted to shiver away from his touch when his hand found her lower back between her hips, but she couldn't. (Y/n) stayed relaxed and kept her tight smile on her lips when Evan motioned towards the living room on the other side of the apartment.

"How was work?" Evan took a long sip of his drink and sank down into the sofa, smiling around the rim of his glass when (Y/n) sat next to him. He thought she would have gone to sit on the armchair across from him to keep some distance between them.

To feel her knees touching his and have their arms brushing together made him feel relaxed. And having her close enough to see and feel each breath she took was calming.

Sometimes when he wasn't around her, Evan felt like an addict getting desperate for his next fix. He couldn't describe the high he felt when he was around (Y/n) and he never wanted it to stop.

"Strange… being on the other end of the line is so weird but it's easy to stay calm, like it's not even real. Did Eddie tell you I was starting there?" (Y/n) tried to keep her tone calm and stay friendly.

The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to come here and start a fight or an argument with Evan. They were here to talk, they had to straighten things out and make this odd relationship morph into something they could both work with. Things had to change and they had to get their stories straight.

(Y/n) needed to know what Evan was planning and what he wanted to do. She needed to know what she could say to Eddie and how to tell him Evan was her ex. Without causing waves and ruining their friendship or causing mayhem for her brother at work.

"Yeah, he's happy you're sticking around."

"If I keep working there, you have to promise me you're not going to use Maddie as a way to check up on me."

"If you answer my calls then I won't have to-"

"No, no Evan please. I can't do this again, okay? I can't have you turning up at work or getting info on me from your sister. I'm not ignoring you, I have no way of doing that, you know I can't pretend you're not here. So let me have the call centre, let me do that."

She needed her work to be her own. It needed to be her place where she could work and escape and do what she needed to do. Without Evan checking in or asking Maddie how she was or what she was doing or what days she was working. He needed to leave her work alone and not use his sister as a bridge to get to (Y/n) and find out information about her.

(Y/n) couldn't ignore Evan, she had no way of doing that when they both lived so close by and their connections were now forever intertwined.

"Agreed. What's your plan then, hm? You were gonna have my baby and not even tell me, but now I know. What's the plan now?"

Evan scratched the back of his neck and leaned across to place his glass down on the coffee table. It hurt. His heart was blistered and scorched and crumbling into pieces, knowing that if Eddie lived in a different city, if (Y/n) decided to go home to her parents, if Evan didn't get his job back here in LA, he wouldn't know.

He wouldn't have a clue that he was going to be a dad. He would of found out eventually, through Eddie. By then, Evan could have missed the birth of hia daughter. He wouldn't be on the birth certificate, he would have missed out on so much and (Y/n) would have done this without him.

But he knew now.

He was here, he knew and he was involved. So they needed to work out these next steps together and sort this out.

"I don't know." She took a large swig of her drink, downing half the iced tea that Evan had added extra sugar into, knowing she had a sweet tooth. "I told Eddie I was here to get away from my ex, I don't know what he will say or do if I tell him that ex is you."

(Y/n) winced and sank her teeth down into her lower lip when Evan visibly tensed up and his jaw locked tight.

She didn't mean to hurt him, but this wasn't all her fault. Evan's actions were the reason they were in this mess. His tendancies and his controlling, anxious, dark side was why they were tangled up and corrupted.

Eddie wouldn't take it lightly if (Y/n) said his best friend was her frightening ex who wouldn't leave her alone. How could they move forward after this? How could Eddie work with Evan, knowing what he was like when he was around (Y/n)? How could he look past that? How could (Y/n) try and raise this baby with him?

"We need to tell him."

"Evan I can't-"

"What's the alternative? Baby I'm sorry to say it but he's gonna find out sooner or later. I want to be there when you go into labour, I want to be on the birth certificate and you think Eddie won't guess when that happens? Or when I come over to see her or want to look after her and you?"

Placing her glass down on the table, (Y/n) allowed herself to sink back into the sofa and slouch down. Her legs stretched out and bumped into the coffee table while her eyes closed and her hands moved to cradle her stomach.

This was exactly what she needed to sort out. (Y/n) couldn't keep having restless, sleepless nights worrying about this.

She was sick and tired of being scared. Scared of Evan. Scared of telling Eddie. Scared of getting Chris excited and getting his hopes up and then crushing them if Evan got even worse.

She couldn't live her life smothered by Evan. His texts, his calls, his demands, his obsessive nature. The unhealthy way he attached himself to her and never wanted to let her go, never wanted her to see her friends or family. Never wanted her out of his sight. He was going to be the same with their daughter. He was going to want her all the time, want to know where she is and what she's doing and keep her within his sights.

He was always going to fret that (Y/n) was going to run off with their daughter and take her from him.

"Then… then we have to work this out before we tell him." (Y/n) flopped her head to the right and looked across at Evan.

There was something so sweet in his sky blue eyes that looked like the purest ocean (Y/n) had ever seen. There was a loving, gentle look that made her feel like she was the only person worth looking at; the only person in his world. And when he smiled and leaned his head on his hand with his elbow resting o the back of the sofa, Evan looked so casual and serene like he was posing for a picture.

He had his other hand resting on his thigh and his knees drawn up on the sofa, nudging into her thigh. It was like they were playing a game or going out on a date rather than stuck in a tangled web of lies and obsession.

"If I can trust you and you don't, you don't get manic, then we can try and talk to Eddie and try do this together, somehow."

"Baby, you already know you can trust me. I wanna do this with you, properly."

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and closed her eyes when Evan leaned across the small distance between them. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he ducked down and tucked his face into her neck instead. She could feel his breaths tickling the side of her neck and his ruby red lips hovering over her pulse like he was deciding whether or not to bite down.

His arm curved across the top of her stomach, anchoring himself to her with his chest pressing down on her left arm and shoulder. And his leg hooked over hers, pinning his knee between her thighs like he was about to climb on top of her and pin her down.

She waited. Seconds ticked by but Evan didn't move. He didn't say anything. He stayed attached to her like that was where he belonged and all he did was breathe against her neck. He didn't bite down or kiss his way up or down her skin like he had done before.

"Evan, I- I left for a reason-"

"And you've already let me back in. You can't stay away from me either, so why bother?"

(Y/n) knew why to bother. She knew what the point was. Leaving Evan was to prove to herself that his actions weren't normal and to prove to Evan that he couldn't carry on the way he was and think it was okay.

But she had no energy to fight him off. She knew coming round here was a risk and she knew what Evan wanted.

(Y/n) wanted to try and sort this out and co-parent, but Evan wanted a relationship again. He wanted to carry on as before. If he could try and adapt, if he could curb his manic behaviour and at least try to calm down in this relationship, (Y/n) was willing to try.

She didn't have any other choice. Evan wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to let her get into another relationship and leave him behind. He wouldn't have her being with someone else and raise his daughter with another person. He wouldn't lose out on the family he had wanted for so long.

So why fight him? Why fight when she had walked away and he had found her without trying? This just proved she couldn't walk away from him and when a very big part of (Y/n) still loved Evan more than anyone else she'd ever been with, she couldn't leave now.

A sigh tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she closed her eyes again, letting Evan nudge her back until she was laid out on the sofa with him on top of her. She curved her arms around his neck and pressed her nose and lips down into his hair, breathing in his scent. She felt his right hand worm up her back until he was cupping the back of her neck while his left hand slipped beneath her shirt to rest on her stomach.

She let her eyes fall closed and breathed in his scent, listening to the sound of his heartbeat lulling along with hers. Giving in to the familiar, comforting feel of Evan laying beside her, cramped up on the sofa.

And when (Y/n) let her mind wander, she tried to pretend she was back home with Chrissy. Back when Evan had been the best thing in the world. Before he turned everything upside down.

***

Evan opened his eyes when he heard a quiet but familiar sound buzzing somewhere nearby.

He tilted his head to the right and cracked his neck back into place, wincing at the sting it sent down his spine and through his shoulders. He glanced his tired eyes around and let his lips form into a grin when he realised he was still at home, laid on the sofa.

He had his head tucked into (Y/n)'s neck, his back wedged up against the back of the sofa with (Y/n) laid up into his chest. And one leg was draped across her thighs with the other hanging off the side of the sofa. Evan stayed nuzzled into her skin, listening to her soft breaths and the feel of her hand resting at the nape of his neck.

This was how Evan had been praying to wake up ever since he came back home to LA. He had been biding his time, trying to find the right time to take leave from work and head back down to see (Y/n). He knew they needed space. But all Evan wanted was to feel her wrapped up in his arms and know she couldn't get over him like how he couldn't- and wouldn't- let himself get over her.

He smiled softly into her skin and kissed her neck before he heard that familiar buzzing sound again.

It was a phone.

His left arm felt numb and sluggish but he forced his hand to slide out beneath (Y/n)'s shirt and leave her stomach he had been cradling in his sleep. He trailed his hand down (Y/n)'s hip and curved his fingers into her side pocket. The good thing about maternity clothes was the pockets.

Evan was careful when he prized her phone out of her pocket so it wouldn't wake her and he could see why it was going off.

Eddie was calling.

Evan lifted his eyes up to (Y/n)'s face. Her eyes were closed, her lips were lump and lightly parted, but her breaths were slow and even. She was still asleep. She always slept better when Evan was with her and he had always known that.

Evan let his head slump back down onto (Y/n)'s chest and he nudged her collar where it had started to slide off her shoulder. It was a little too big and baggy for her but it allowed Evan a perfect view of the top of her cleavage. He delicately peppered kisses against her chest while he clicked the side button on her phone to decline the call.

It was getting late. Eddie was a worrier, no matter what he tried to tell people. They all knew he panicked.

Swiping across her phone, Evan tried his luck with her old password and grinned, grazing his teeth against her skin when it worked.

He scrolled through to Eddie's messages, keeping his face tucked up into (Y/n)'s skin as he began typing. Once the message was done and sent, Evan slid her phone into his back pocket and closed his eyes again, tightening his arms around her until it felt like they were going to merge into one person.

*Hey, I'm with Maddie from work, don't know what time I'll be back. I'm fine, I'll see you later. XX

Tilting his head down, Evan nudged his chin against the collar of (Y/n)'s shirt and nudged it down to reveal more of her cleavage to his eyes. His nose brushed against her skin as he started peppering kisses across her chest, working his way down.

But he stopped abruptly when he head a knock at the door, followed by a key turning in the lock.

The only people with a key were Maddie because she was round so often, and Bobby in case of emergencies.

A groan burned at the back of his throat but he stayed quiet and pushed his weight onto his hands either side of (Y/n)'s shoulders. He pushed up and manoeuvred over her, leaning down to kiss her stomach and straighten out her shirt before he stretched and jogged towards the door.

"Hey, you would not believe the kind of calls we got at work today, some of them were, you know, so-" Maddie bustled into the apartment, slugging her bag down on the kitchen side as she advanced towards the fridge.

A smile played on her lips but when she glanced over her shoulder, she abruptly stopped talking when she looked at her brother. Evan had his brows arched and his finger pressed to his lips to try and silence her. She pursed her lips and paused, halfway to grabbing the bottle of wine she had put in Evan's fridge last week for when she came round to have a drink with him.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" She lowered her tone and looked across to see what Evan was now pointing at in the living room.

She stepped away from the fridge and took a few cautious steps towards her brother. But when she leaned around him and looked at the sofa, her eyes narrowed and she looked up at him with perplexion in her eyes.

"That's (Y/n), Eddie's sister. What's she doing here?"

Evan folded his arms across his his chest and let his eyes linger on (Y/n) for a few more seconds before he finally dragged his eyes away to look down at Maddie.

"We're friends, I've known her for a while." When he dragged his fingers across his jaw and smiled in that all-knowing way, he watched his sister's jaw drop and her shoulders tensed.

She moved back towards the kitchen, dragging Evan with her so they could talk without the risk of waking (Y/n). Maddie leaned her hips back against the counter and folded her arms across her chest as she stared up at her brother in that motherly way that always got him to talk and open up whether he wanted to or not.

"Just friends? I know that look in your eyes, Buck. What's going on?" She waited impatiently for an answer but Evan just reached behind him to lean against the sink and smiled.

If Maddie figured out what was going on here, then she would get and feel much closer to (Y/n). They would become friends, Maddie would become as much of a sister to (Y/n) as she was to Evan. She would take (Y/n) under her wing and keep an eye on her at work for Evan.

He wanted the pair of them to get along, he wanted them to be close because they were going to be family now. And with Maddie on his side and in his corner, things would change. (Y/n) would realise that this is what they all wanted and needed. She could be with Evan, here in LA. She could work with his sister and get to know his team that her brother was already a part of.

Evan could have the family he wanted and so desperately needed. He could have a partner and a child and create a family at work with the people he loved. Everything that everyone else had, Evan was finally going to get. He would be like the rest of the team.

He would have what he always dreamed of and he would create the family he wanted. (Y/n) was here. She was giving him that family. She was the girl of his dreams and now they were having a daughter.

"Buck, are you involved with her?" Maddie could feel her nerves bleeding through into her voice.

She had talked to (Y/n) at work yesterday, they seemed to get along. But (Y/n) didn't say anything about being good friends with Evan. And she hadn't mentioned anything about having a partner and Maddie didn't want to ask in case it was a sore subject or not something she wanted to divulge on their first day together.

"I guess you could say that. Listen, don't tell anyone, please? Eddie doesn't know yet, and (Y/n) doesn't want to complicate things at work."

"Alright, but you are telling me everything later, got it?" Maddie pointed her finger at her brother but her smile and the way she sighed gave away that she wasn't going to tell anyone.

She would keep her lips sealed and wait for Evan to give her the gossip later and fill her in on what was going on.

If Evan told her first, (Y/n) wouldn't have chance. She wouldn't be able to spin the same story to Maddie that she had to Eddie. She wouldn't be able to influence Evan's sister and turn her against him like she had probably done to Eddie when he finds out Evan was the baby's father. Evan needed to control this situation and set everything right because this is the family he wanted, the one he needed and nothing was going to ruin this for them.

This is what they wanted. What Evan wanted.

[milaisreading]

Yandere!Sae Itoshi x Reader

🌱🩷: As promised, here is the Halloween special story I wrote. Hope u all enjoy it! Thanks for reading 🩷

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. There are talks of murder here, so under 18 and everyone uncomfortable with this topic, please don't read.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Fall was finally upon Tokyo, and there was nothing (Y/n) more enjoyed than a nice stroll through the city while the cold air hit her face. It was specifically October 31st, Halloween day. And while (Y/n) wasn't much of a fan of that day, mainly because of the pranks, she couldn't deny that she was fond of the decorations, food, and shows. Shibuya was specifically the most visited place during this time of the day, due to all the attractions. Kids and teens were laughing, wearing different costumes varying from princesses to trolls, and adults were either watching over them, or just mindlessly walking around to admire everything. (Y/n) didn't really prepare anything for that day, she just recently arrived from Germany for a week off, and just wanted to rest and enjoy the moment. She planned on enjoying this day alone, but she messaged Rin 2 days prior and found out he was back in Japan, too. The two had then agreed to meet up on this day, since Shibuya will be packed with people, and Rin would have less chances in being recognized.

'At least I hope Rin plans work.' She chuckled and went into a shop to look through some clothes.

"I still have 3 hours till I meet up with Rin." She muttered.

Sae hummed as he drained the water out of the bathtub. He yawned as he walked out of the bathroom to pick out some clothes he could wear tonight. Sae wasn't someone who really cared about dressing up, especially when it's about meeting someone, but this was different. Tonight was the night he would start his plan on making (Y/n) fall for him. The prodigy had to admit that he never expected to fall for anyone, much less the former manager of a football project. But it happened. The more Sae observed the progress of Blue Lock, the more he paid attention to the staff, mainly to (Y/n).

'Well, it is Rin's fault. If he hadn't been so secretive about her, I would have moved on.' The boy blushed a little as he put on his shirt, thinking of the girl. She was... interesting to Sae. She was smart, beautiful, and witty when needed. She was almost flawless in Sae's eyes, almost. The only flaw (Y/n) had is that she wasn't his, but... he will fix that soon.

'With Rin out of the way, my plan on making her mine forever will be a lot easier.' Sae smirked as he remembered the last fight him and Rin had 2 nights ago. It was a normal (?) siblings fight, if you ask Sae. The older Itoshi found out Rin asked (Y/n) out on a date, they started shouting, and before you know it, Rin had a knife stabbed in his chest. Sae had killed his brother. The boy didn't even know how things even played out, all he knows is that Rin shouted something at him, which caused Sae to snap and take the big kitchen knife. So, for the past 2 days Sae had spent his time cleaning up the kitchen, getting a new knife, getting rid of the used one, and at the end he had to get rid of Rin's body. To Sae, that was probably the hardest part, but with a few tools, garbage bags and random chemicals it was possible to do. Sae estimates that it might take a long while till anyone finds his brother's body.

'After all, who visits the deepest pits of the forest these days.'

Sae chuckled and dialed (Y/n)'s number, preparing to say the speech he prepared for the past 5 hours.

2 days before...

"I know what you are planning." Rin sent Sae a sharp glare as the older ate his dinner in boredom. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea of the Itoshi parents to leave their sons alone for a week, but oh well.

"What do you mean?" Sae finally asked.

"I know you want to get with (Y/n). And I am here to tell you, you won't ever have her."

Rin smirked as Sae raised an eyebrow, putting his chopsticks down.

"What make you say that? Then who will have her you? Or one of those pathetic Blue Lock players? Don't make me laugh." Sae rolled his eyes.

"Of course it will be me." Rin said confidently.

"For your information, Sae, (Y/n) knows me better than you. When she comes to our matches, she is there to cheer me on. When she is in Japan, she calls me to meet up." Rin chuckled, not noticing Sae's hands slowly twitch. He was always good with his resting face.

"And when walks down the isle eventually, she will do it because of me. Because I will be always (Y/n)'s pick. Not you. You are insignificant to her."

Sae didn't know what had possessed him to grab the knife, but he did. With a never before seen speed and strength, Sae was quickly in front of Rin and tackled him to the ground. The younger tried to fight his brother off of him, but he couldn't. All Rin saw at the end was a crazed smile on Sae's face as the older repeatedly stabbed him.

"Looks like your little dreams of (Y/n) will stay only that. Dreams." Sae laughed as he got off of Rin. The younger's eyes wide in panic as he slowly took his final breaths. Knife still stabbed into his chest as a pool of blood surrounded him.

Present day...

"I still can't believe Rin has a girlfriend." (Y/n) said while drinking her got chocolate. Sae sat across from her, trying to keep his usual stoic expression on.

'Cute.' He thought and clearer his throat.

"Yeah. That idiot couldn't wait to see her so he left earlier. Again, I am really sorry he didn't call you earlier."

"It's fine. You don't need to apologize. I just wish I knew sooner so that I could tease him. Oh well, maybe the next time I see him." (Y/n) laughed as Sae shrugged his shoulders.

"For sure. But in the meantime, do you want to have dinner tomorrow? I saw that a new  restaurant opened in Roppongi."

(Y/n) put her cup down and slowly nodded her head.

"Sure, I have no other plans for the next few days. But wouldn't it be boring with me for 2 days in a row-"

Sae shook his head and gently took one of her hands.

"Not at all." He gave the girl a tiny smile, causing a blush to erupt on her face.

"O-oh... ok, then!"

'Finally we are going somewhere. Should have gotten rid of that nuisance a long time ago.' Sae thought, holding back a smirk.