#make a fuss about it but shes like 'its just the way i was brought up/gotta be prepared for anything'

[tardis--dreams]

Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes

[theonottsbxtch]

SPORTS CAR | OP81

an: so far for the last t8 songs ive given them to lando, time to give our boy oscar some love. i cant promise im back for good, its exam season at the school im working at so busy busy busy but anyway enjoy this op81 piece

wc: 4k

THE GALA WAS THE SORT OF EVENT where champagne flowed endlessly, and the air was thick with the weight of old money. Oscar, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, leaned casually against the bar, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The soft strains of classical music filled the grand hall, but his attention wasn’t on the string quartet or the ridiculously expensive artwork on the walls. It was on her.

She glided through the crowd as though she owned the place—because, in a way, she did. Her gown, a shimmering cascade of silver, caught the light with every deliberate step she took, and her smile was just shy of predatory. She was the kind of woman who never had to hear the word “no,” a little princess who always got exactly what she wanted. And tonight, it was clear that what she wanted was him.

Oscar swirled the amber liquid in his glass, suppressing the smirk threatening to spread across his face. He recognised that look—had seen it on her at least twice tonight when their gazes met from across the room. It was bold, unrelenting, and entirely unapologetic. She didn’t just want him; she wanted to make sure he knew it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Her voice broke through the small space between them as she appeared beside him at the bar. Her perfume—a heady mix of jasmine and something darker—wrapped around him as she leaned in, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin.

Oscar glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “As much as one can at an event like this.”

She laughed softly, the sound smooth and syrupy. “A man with all the toys in the world, bored at a gala? I thought you’d be used to this sort of thing by now.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it,” he replied, setting his glass down and turning to face her fully. His dark eyes flicked to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. “What about you? Enjoying holding court?”

Her smile widened, a little wicked now. “The only fun I’m planning on having tonight isn’t going to be on the dance floor.” She tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping lower, meant only for him. “You brought one of your cars, didn’t you?”

Oscar’s smirk finally broke through. “I might’ve. Why?”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing the lapel of his tuxedo, and tilted her head as though her question was entirely innocent. “Because I’ve always wondered what the fuss is about. The leather seats, the thrill of it all... You should show me.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, leaning in just enough for her breath to catch. “You think you can handle that, princess?”

Her eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and challenge. “Why don’t you take me for a spin and find out?”

Oscar shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him as he leaned back slightly. “Your dad would kill me,” he said, his tone light but edged with something darker.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “He doesn’t need to find out,” she murmured, her voice smooth as silk.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully. She was bold—too bold for her own good—and she knew it. “You’re not exactly the subtle type,” he pointed out, his tone laced with amusement.

She shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Subtlety is overrated. Besides, you’re clever. You’d figure something out.” She stepped closer, her fingers grazing the cuff of his sleeve, feather-light. “Unless you’re scared, of course.”

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Scared? Of you?” His gaze flicked down to her hand before returning to her eyes, dark and steady. “You don’t scare me, princess.”

“Good,” she said simply, her voice soft but laced with that same unshakable confidence. “Because I’m not leaving here tonight without what I want.”

Her words hung in the air between them, the weight of her challenge impossible to ignore. Oscar let the silence stretch for a moment, his eyes locked on hers, weighing up the consequences. He could already feel the heat of her expectation, the daring glint in her gaze that made it clear she wasn’t bluffing.

Finally, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Her smile widened, shamelessly triumphant. “Always.”

He exhaled, shaking his head again as though he were trying to convince himself he wasn’t about to make a very stupid decision. But the way she was looking at him—like he was a prize she’d already claimed—made it impossible to resist.

“Fine,” he said at last, his voice a low rumble. “Meet me out front in five minutes. Don’t make me regret this.”

She didn’t respond, only grinned as she stepped back, smoothing the skirt of her gown as if nothing had happened. “You won’t,” she said, her tone light and breezy, as if they weren’t on the brink of scandal.

With one last look over her shoulder, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Oscar standing there, shaking his head and wondering just how far he was about to let this go.

The air outside the gala was cool, the faint hum of engines and distant chatter filling the night. She stood near the grand entrance, the shimmer of her gown catching the soft glow of the streetlights. A few partygoers lingered around her, but she didn’t pay them any attention. Her focus was on the sleek McLaren pulling up to the curb, its low, aggressive stance impossible to ignore.

Oscar was behind the wheel of the dark grey 765LT Spider, its polished finish gleaming like liquid metal under the lights. The car exuded power and precision, its growl unmistakable even in neutral. As the passenger door lifted upwards, Oscar leaned over slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and steady.

She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she slid into the seat. The leather interior cocooned her, the faint smell of luxury and petrol filling her senses. With the door closing seamlessly behind her, Oscar revved the engine once before pulling away from the gala, leaving the murmurs of curious onlookers behind.

The streets of Monaco unfurled ahead of them, glittering like a dream. The McLaren hugged the curves effortlessly as Oscar navigated the winding roads, the sound of the engine echoing off the buildings and cliffs. The city lights reflected in the water, casting a golden hue over everything, and the occasional roar of other supercars in the distance only added to the energy of the night.

She leaned back in her seat, her head tilted slightly as she watched him. He looked completely at ease, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift. His focus was sharp, the faint glow of the dashboard illuminating his sharp features.

“No girlfriend with you tonight?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft hum of the engine.

Oscar’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Don’t have one,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Why?”

He glanced at her briefly, his dark eyes filled with quiet amusement. “Why do you think?”

She turned slightly in her seat, her smile coy. “Don’t you think it’s time to change that?”

Oscar’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, the words hanging in the air between them. For a moment, the only sound was the steady purr of the McLaren as they sped along the coastline. Then, as if making a split-second decision, he downshifted and pulled the car off the road, steering into a quiet lookout point overlooking the sparkling bay below.

The engine rumbled to a stop, leaving the world in near silence save for the distant waves crashing against the shore. Oscar turned to her, his dark eyes unreadable, the weight of her words still lingering.

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he murmured, his voice low and thick with something she couldn’t quite place.

Her smile didn’t waver. “Why would I, when I’m getting exactly what I want?”

For a moment, he just stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without another word, he leaned in, one hand reaching up to cup her jaw as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss was electric, heated and unapologetic, the kind of kiss that left no room for second guesses.

She responded instantly, her fingers tangling in the lapels of his jacket as she pulled him closer. The cool leather of the seat beneath her was a stark contrast to the heat radiating between them, their breaths mingling as the kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, both of them slightly breathless, she grinned up at him, her confidence as unshakable as ever.

“Told you I’d get what I wanted,” she murmured.

Oscar let out a low laugh, shaking his head as his thumb brushed against her cheek. “You’re going to ruin me, princess.”

She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over his. “You’ll survive.”

Oscar’s gaze lingered on her, his lips still tingling from their kiss. He leaned in again, his hand slipping to her waist as his breath ghosted over her lips, but just as he closed the distance, she pulled back.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she settled against the seat, her smile playful yet maddeningly smug. “Patience,” she whispered, her tone dripping with teasing sweetness. “What’s the rush?”

Oscar narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening slightly. “You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

“Am I?” she said, tilting her head, her fingers tracing the edge of her seatbelt as though she hadn’t just pulled away from him. “Or am I just keeping you on your toes?”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though there was a dangerous edge to it now. “You like playing games, don’t you?”

Before she could respond, Oscar reached out, his hand tangling in her hair with surprising firmness. The suddenness of it made her breath hitch, her teasing smile faltering for the first time. He pulled her towards him, his grip gentle but commanding, and the shift in his energy sent a spark of heat straight through her.

“You forget,” he murmured, his voice a low growl against her ear, “I don’t like to lose.”

And then he kissed her, harder this time, with none of the hesitation from before. It was all hunger and heat, his lips claiming hers as though he was determined to remind her who was in control. She didn’t resist—in fact, the soft sound that escaped her as he deepened the kiss made it clear she wasn’t protesting at all.

Without breaking the kiss, Oscar shifted her effortlessly. His hands gripped her waist as he pulled her onto his lap, her gown gathering around her as she straddled him. The space in the McLaren was tight, but neither of them seemed to care. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching at his shirt as she kissed him back with equal fervour, her earlier teasing entirely abandoned.

Oscar’s hand moved from her hair to the curve of her back, holding her close as their lips moved in sync, the heat between them building with every second. Her perfume wrapped around him, intoxicating, and the soft hum of her breathing against his skin only made him want more.

When they finally broke apart, her lips were swollen, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. She looked down at him, her composure shaken but her eyes still alight with that same daring spark.

“You’re full of surprises,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

Oscar smirked, his hand still resting on her back as he looked up at her. “And you’re full of trouble,” he countered, his voice low and gravelly. “But I don’t mind.”

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as she leaned in again, her lips hovering just inches from his. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Oscar’s hand lingered on her back as he leaned back slightly, his smirk firmly in place. “We should probably head back before someone notices we’re gone,” he said, though the heat in his voice made it clear he wasn’t entirely committed to the idea.

She tilted her head, her fingers tracing along the edge of his collar. “Fine,” she said, her tone soft but full of something mischievous. Then she added, “But can I drive?”

Oscar blinked, surprised, before letting out a low chuckle. “Drive?” He raised a brow, glancing around the interior of the McLaren. “You want to drive this?”

“Why not?” she teased, sliding off his lap into her seat while adjusting her gown. Her hand brushed along the leather of the steering wheel as she looked at him with a grin. “What, don’t think I can handle it?”

He hesitated for a moment. Letting someone else—especially her—behind the wheel of his prized McLaren felt like madness. But there was something about the way she looked at him, that mix of challenge and confidence, that made it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice low and measured. “But if you so much as scratch it—”

She laughed, cutting him off as she opened her door ready to claim her seat. “Relax, Oscar. I know how to handle expensive toys.”

He climbed into the passenger seat, watching as she adjusted the seat and placed her hands on the wheel with a kind of natural ease that caught him off guard. She turned the key, and the car roared back to life, purring under her control.

“Careful,” he muttered as she pulled out of the lookout point, her silver gown shimmering in the glow of the dashboard.

But careful wasn’t really her style.

The McLaren glided through the winding streets of Monaco, her movements smooth and deliberate. She drove with the kind of confidence that made it impossible not to watch her—one hand on the wheel, the other shifting gears effortlessly. Her gaze was sharp, focused, but there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Oscar leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on her. There was something undeniably hot about watching her handle the car. The way her fingers gripped the wheel, the slight tilt of her head as she navigated the sharp turns, the soft hum of concentration she made under her breath—it was intoxicating.

His jaw tightened as he shifted in his seat, trying to focus on anything other than the growing heat building inside him. “You’re enjoying this a little too much,” he muttered.

She glanced at him briefly, her smile widening. “What, you don’t think I’m doing a good job?”

“You’re doing fine,” he admitted grudgingly, though his tone betrayed just how much more he was thinking.

But instead of heading back to the gala, she veered off, turning down a quieter road that led toward the waterfront. Oscar frowned, sitting up slightly.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

She didn’t answer immediately, her smile remaining as she continued to drive. The glow of the city faded slightly as she pulled into the circular drive of a luxury hotel, its grand façade glittering under the night sky.

She parked smoothly, turning off the engine before looking over at him with that same maddeningly smug expression. “Thought we could use a change of scenery,” she said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Oscar stared at her, caught somewhere between annoyance and intrigue. “You know, this wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

She leaned back in her seat, one hand still resting on the wheel, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Since when do you strike me as a man who follows a plan?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the sight of her—smug, gorgeous, completely in control—had him swallowing his words. There was no denying it: watching her drive his car, taking charge like that, had done something to him.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with something more than frustration.

Her grin widened, her confidence unwavering as she leaned towards him slightly. “And you love it.”

For a moment, he just looked at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without a word, he leaned in, his hand gripping her jaw as he kissed her again, this time with more intensity than before.

Oscar was just starting to lose himself in the kiss when she abruptly pulled away, leaving him momentarily stunned. She smirked at him, her confidence maddeningly intact, and reached for the car door.

“Wait—what are you doing?” he asked, still catching his breath.

But she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped out of the McLaren, smoothing her gown as if nothing had happened. Before he could process what was going on, she tossed the car keys to the valet standing nearby. The poor man fumbled but managed to catch them, staring wide-eyed at the sleek car she’d just stepped out of.

“Take care of it,” she said breezily, her tone one of casual authority.

Oscar remained in the passenger seat, stunned. He wasn’t used to people taking charge—especially not with his car—but somehow, the way she did it was effortlessly sexy. She didn’t even glance back at him as she strode toward the grand entrance of the hotel, the soft click of her heels against the pavement leaving him momentarily frozen.

It wasn’t until the valet awkwardly cleared his throat that Oscar snapped out of it. He scrambled out of the car, muttering, “Don’t scratch it,” before hurrying after her.

By the time he reached the hotel lobby, she was already stepping into the lift, her silver gown shimmering under the chandelier’s light. The lift doors were beginning to close, and for a second, he thought she might leave him behind. But just as the gap narrowed, her gaze met his, and she pressed the button to hold the doors.

Oscar stepped in, his breathing slightly uneven—not from the chase, but from the way she was looking at him, all challenge and heat.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and rough.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “You’re the one who followed me.”

The doors slid shut, sealing them inside. The moment they were alone, the tension between them became unbearable. The soft hum of the lift seemed deafening in the silence as Oscar took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and desire.

Her smile widened, her confidence as infuriating as it was intoxicating. “Good,” she whispered.

That was all it took.

Oscar closed the distance in an instant, backing her against the wall of the lift as his lips found hers again. This time, there was no hesitation, no space for games. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her deeply, his frustration pouring into every movement.

She responded with equal fervour, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, her back pressing against the cold metal of the lift wall. The contrast between the chill of the wall and the heat of his touch sent shivers through her, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she pushed closer, her body arching into his.

Oscar’s hand slid to the small of her back, holding her firmly in place as his lips moved to her jaw, then down to the curve of her neck. Her breath hitched, and he felt the slight tremor that ran through her.

“Still want to play games?” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low growl.

She let out a soft laugh, her nails grazing the back of his neck as she tilted her head to give him more access. “Only if I keep winning,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes smouldering. “Not this time.”

Before she could respond, he captured her lips again, silencing whatever quip she was about to throw at him. The kiss was fiery, intense, and left no room for second-guessing. The soft chime of the lift was barely a blip in the haze of their heated embrace. By the time the doors slid open, neither of them made any move to stop. Oscar’s lips were still locked on hers, his hands gripping her waist as though letting go wasn’t an option. She tugged him forward, their steps hurried and uncoordinated as they stumbled out of the lift.

“Which one?” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick and breathless.

She broke the kiss just long enough to motion toward the double doors at the end of the corridor. “Penthouse,” she whispered, her tone teasing but drenched with desire.

Oscar didn’t need more instruction. His hand found hers as they hurried toward the doors, her soft laughter echoing in the hallway as they fumbled to get inside. She reached into her clutch, pulling out the key card and sliding it through the reader with a practiced flick of her wrist. The lock clicked, and before the door could even swing fully open, Oscar had her pinned against the frame, his mouth crashing onto hers again.

She gasped against his lips, her hands finding their way under his jacket, fingers splaying against the hard lines of his chest. He pushed her through the doorway, their movements clumsy but urgent, and the door slammed shut behind them with a soft thud.

The suite was breathtaking, all glittering chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of Monaco’s sparkling coastline. But neither of them paid it any mind. She walked him backward toward the plush sofa in the centre of the room, her lips never leaving his.

His hands roamed her body with a possessive hunger, sliding down her back to the curve of her hips. The silky fabric of her gown was smooth beneath his fingertips, but he was already imagining what was underneath. His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, then to the delicate column of her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her that made his blood run hotter.

Her own hands were equally adventurous, pushing his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. She tugged at the buttons of his shirt, her impatience making quick work of them as she revealed the toned muscles beneath.

“Impressive,” she murmured, her voice teasing but shaky with anticipation.

Oscar smirked against her skin, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”

Her laugh was cut short by the way his hands gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly as he flipped her toward the sofa. She let out a breathless gasp as he set her down on the edge, his body immediately pressing against hers. His hand trailed up her bare thigh, pushing the slit of her gown further aside as his lips found hers again.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as she pulled him closer, her own control slipping with every passing second. His other hand travelled south, his touch firm yet teasing as it inched along her skin, setting her nerves alight.

“Still feeling in charge?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough.

Her response was a soft moan, her head falling back against the cushion as he kissed a line down her neck, his hand exploring further. The sound of her breaths, quick and shallow, filled the air between them, mingling with the faint hum of the city outside.

He smirked, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. “That’s what I thought.”

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - All Over Again

Requested: yes

Prompts: 5) "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again."

48) "I love our cuddles."

49) "Stay here tonight."

Warnings: none tbh

Lando couldn't believe he was back in England, the familiar sights and sounds bringing a rush of nostalgia. He had done what he always did; gone for his morning run, ordered a hot chocolate to take away, and head on home to have his pre-made breakfast. As he strolled through the town, he couldn't help but wonder what had changed since he left for his racing career. Little did he know, he was about to encounter a significant blast from the past. He figured he may as well have a proper look around this time and so, he made his way up a side street, looking around and even spotting a few new shops.

Walking up a small street, off from his usual route, Lando's eyes widened as he spotted Y/n, the girl he had once been deeply in love with and even dated whilst he was in Formula 2. They broke up in 2020 since they both just didn't have the time and promised that if the opportunity every rose again, they would revisit it. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, recognizing him, Y/n's eyes lit up with surprise and joy. "Lando? Is that really you?" She exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and excitement in her voice. He grinned. "Yeah, it's me! How have you been?" Lando asked as the pair embraced one another. "I'm good. Still on the hot chocolate or have you made the move to coffee?" She asked, pointing at the cup in Lando's hand. "I've never liked coffee and I never will. How's uni going?"

"I just finished up last year. I'm kinda just working for now until I have enough to move away." She replied. "Move away? What would make you want to do that?" Lando asked. "Well you tell me. Last I heard of you was you moved to Monaco. Very fancy." She joked. They exchanged stories, catching up on the years that had passed since they last saw each other. Laughter echoed through the air as they reminisced about old memories and shared new experiences. It was as if time hadn't dimmed the connection they once had.

Lando, felt some serious nostalgia. "I'm going to have to head now. I have some things to do. But good luck and it was lovely seeing you again." Y/n smiled. "Yeah, we should get coffee or something sometime." He replied and watched as Y/n walked past him. As she walked away, he couldn't help but think that maybe this was the time to revisit their relationship, and so, he turned and jogged back towards her to give a suggestion. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? We can continue our conversation there." Y/n shook her head. "I have a few things to drop of to my mum's. I really can't."

"I'll come with you. I haven't seen her jn ages anyway." Y/n thought for a moment. Her mum would make such a fuss over Lando being back. She always brought Lando up, even to Y/n's last boyfriend. That conversation about Lando led to their break-up and since then she's always shrugged off any Lando conversations. "Okay fine." She said as Lando began to walk with her. "Do you want me to take something? Your hands seem full." Y/n nodded. "Please take the shopping bag. Its killing me here." Labdo laughed as he effortlessly lifted the back and hoisted it up over his shoulder. "Alright. Don't be such a show off."

Their break-up hadn't left a bitter taste, and they remained friends. The sun was shining, adding a warm glow to their amiable conversation. As they approached Y/n's mum's house, memories flooded back. Lando couldn't help but notice the nostalgia in Y/n's eyes. The door swung open before they even had a chance to knock, revealing Y/n's mum, who beamed at the sight of them. "Lando! Oh, it's been too long!" She exclaimed, enveloping Lando both in a tight hug. "Nice to see you too, Mum." Y/n mumbled as Lando grinned. "Come inside, I've just brewed some tea."

Once inside, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Y/n's mum ushered them to the living room, where memories of shared laughter echoed. They settled in, sipping tea and catching up on life. Y/n's mum couldn't help but glance between them, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And that crash in Germany last year. Dreadful." Her mum said. "It was Belgium, Mum." Y/n corrected. Labdo turned and smirked at her. "Thought you didn't keep up with F1." The last time he saw her, she didn't really. She only really watched it when she was with Lando. "I can watch it if I want." She replied, sipping her tea. "Oh, you two always made such a lovely couple. Any chance you're getting back together?" She inquired with a mischievous grin.

Y/n spat her tea into the cup, as Lando gave an amused glance towards Y/n. "No, we're just good friends now." Y/n explained with a smile. "Well, that's good to hear. I always hoped maybe one day you'll find your way back to each other." Her mum said. Lando's lips twitched into a playful grin. "You never know. We could probably..." Y/n interrupted, taking it as a cue to change the subject. "Well, Mum, we've got a few more errands to run. Thanks for the tea!" They bid Y/n's mum farewell, stepping back into the sunlight. "Smooth, Lando." Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lando's comment. "What?" Lando asked as if he didn't know what he had just done. "You always know how to keep things interesting," Y/n teased. Lando chuckled. "Hey, just keeping the possibilities open, you know?" Y/n shook her head, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "You haven't changed a bit."

Lando led the way to his new home. It was huge. Bigger than the one he grew up in and Y/n found that mental. "This is yours? Are you sure?" She asked. "Trust me, it's mine." He replied, opening the door. "There's a few boxes around the place. This is all just moving stuff. Don't mind them."

The aroma of spices and sizzling ingredients filled Lando Norris' kitchen as he worked diligently to prepare dinner for his good friend, Y/n. He hummed along to a tune playing softly in the background, feeling a sense of accomplishment in trying his hand at a new recipe.

Y/n walked around, a glass of wine in hand, looking at the photos that hung on the walls. From family photos to podium photos, she enjoyed looking at them. One in particular caught her eye. It was her at Lando's final Formula 2 race. They were all smiles and she couldn't help but feel the memories washing over her.

Just as Lando reached for a pot handle, a sudden hiss of pain escaped him. Lando winced, realizing he had touched the hot surface without protection. He quickly pulled back, shaking his hand in an attempt to soothe the sting. "Fuck." Lando muttered to himself, glancing around for a nearby kitchen towel. Y/n entered the room, drawn by the sound of his exclamation. "What happened, Lando?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Lando winced, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, just a little mishap. I guess cooking isn't exactly my forte."

Y/n chuckled softly, gently taking his arm to examine the burn. "Let me take care of that for you." As Y/n tended to his burn, Lando couldn't help but admire her delicate touch and caring nature. His gaze lingered on her, filled with a warmth he couldn't contain. "Don't look at me like that." Y/n said softly, catching Lando's gaze. Lando smirked teasingly. "Like what?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You know exactly what I mean." He shrugged. "Have no idea what you mean." Rolling her eyes again, Y/n suggested, "How about I do the cooking, and you just help grab things when I need them?" Lando nodded.

As Y/n stired some pasta around in the pot, she jumped upon hearing music. "Oh, sorry. Too loud." Labdo mumbled as he turned the volume down on a speaker nearby. "Why are you playing Put Your Records On?" She asked. "I like it. You like it too last time I checked." Lando said, beginning to dance a bit. "Last time you checked was four years ago." Y/n replied. "Oh come on, you haven't changed that much." Lando chuckled. "You wanna bet?" She challenged.

Lando nodded, moving her hair across her shoulder and placing a gentle kiss onto her neck. "You like neck kisses, don't you?" Y/n found herself blushing and biting her lip to hide her smile. Lando's arms made their way around Y/n's torso, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lando." She said. "I know." Y/n set the cooking spoon to the side and gave in, turning and lifting her arms up around Lando's neck, swaying along with him. Soon enough, they were dancing, spinning and jumping around, carefree and happy. "Oh shit! The pasta!"

As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Lando wrapped an arm around Y/n, feeling the warmth of their shared history. The prompts echoed in his mind, and he couldn't resist expressing his emotions. "I love our cuddles." He admitted, a genuine smile on his face. Y/n snuggled closer. "Me too. It feels like we never missed a beat." Lando looked up to her, the look of a lovestruck puppy in his eyes. "Stay here tonight." He asked. "Lando, I have work tomorrow." She replied. "You're acting like something is going to happen." Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh shut up." The pair began laughing. As the laughing quietened down, they found themselves leaning in, centimetres away from eachother.

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as Lando looked between her eyes and then down to her lip. "Alright, but only if you promise to make breakfast tomorrow, and I get to teach you how to cook properly." Lando grinned. "Deal." And with that, he leaned in and closed the gap between them, Y/n kissing back into his lips.

The movie faded into the background as they continued their kiss, both missing the feeling of the others lips on theirs. "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again." Lando whispered between kisses. He could feel Y/n smile against him. "Maybe we can take it one step at a time, starting with breakfast tomorrow morning." Lando shook his head, lifting her up off the couch and walking towards the door. "Or we could start now and just start where we left off."

[reiding-writing]

Hi ! I’ve been a fan of your writing forever, and I’m so glad you opened up requests !! I’ve been in bed with a migraine all day, and would love some fluff with Spence taking care of reader when she’s down like I am 😭😭 Whether reader is sick or migraine-y, I don’t mind ! I love the idea of Spencer enjoying being able to take care of his loved ones, it doesn’t even have to be an established relationship fic 💕💕 Thank you so much lovely !!

BESIDE MANNER — SPENCER REID!

who better to help you through a migraine than the man who literally knows everything?

spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.3k | h/c | masterlist.

a/n — anon, i feel you, i have had the worst migraine behind my left eye literally all day and i wish i could just stick my hand in my skull and massage it away

You’re not sure when the ache started. It’s a creeping, insidious thing, burrowing behind your eyes and clawing its way through your skull. It comes on slow at first—a dull throb that you convince yourself you can ignore.

You’ve worked through worse, but by the time noon rolls around, your head is pounding so fiercely that even blinking feels like a betrayal.

Every movement, every faint whisper of sound, sends a fresh wave of pain coursing through your skull. You pull the blanket tighter around yourself, instinctively seeking darkness and silence.

The migraine has stolen your day before you’ve even begun it.

At some point—though you can’t be sure when, time feels elastic—you become aware of a knock on your door. Soft, tentative, like whoever’s on the other side knows the noise might make things worse.

You think about ignoring it, but then you hear a voice. His voice.

“Hey, it’s Spencer. Are you okay? You weren’t answering your phone,”

Even in your haze, you can tell there’s concern laced in his tone. Spencer’s always been a bit of a worrier. You know he means well, but you’re not sure if you have the energy to deal with anyone right now.

Still, you force yourself to croak out something resembling permission. The door opens, and the faint light from the hallway spills into your sanctuary, making you wince. You hear the door close again almost immediately, followed by the sound of his cautious footsteps approaching.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I was worried,”

You peek out from under the blanket, squinting against the minimal light. Spencer is standing there, a bag slung over one shoulder and a furrow of worry etched into his face. His hair is slightly mussed, and you can tell he’s been fussing with it—an unconscious habit he has when he’s nervous.

“I brought some things,” he continues, holding up the bag like an offering. “For the migraine, I mean. I, um… I wasn’t sure exactly what would help, so I got a few options,”

You don’t have the strength to respond, but you manage a faint nod. Spencer takes it as an invitation to set the bag down and start unpacking.

“There’s… let’s see… some herbal tea,” he says, pulling out a box and setting it on your bedside table. “It’s supposed to be good for headaches. And, um, this cold pack—it’s one of those reusable ones you can wrap around your head. Oh, and these blackout curtains, in case the light is making it worse—”

He’s talking so fast you can barely keep up, but there’s something endearing about the way he’s trying to cover every base.

“And,” he adds, pulling out a bottle, “magnesium supplements. They prevent the narrowing of brain blood vessels, blocking chemicals that cause the pain associated with migraines, and prevent cortical spreading depression. I checked the dosage to make sure it’s safe, but you should still—”

“Spence,” you murmur, cutting him off. Your voice is hoarse, barely audible, but it’s enough to make him stop mid-sentence.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

The corners of his mouth twitch upward in a small, relieved smile. “Of course,”

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle you. For a moment, he just sits there, as if he’s not sure what to do next. Then he hesitates, his hand hovering near your forehead.

“Is it okay if I…?”

You nod, and his hand comes to rest gently on your forehead, his touch cool and soothing. He frowns slightly. “You’re a little warm. Have you been drinking enough water?”

You shake your head weakly. The thought of getting up, of doing anything, had felt impossible.

Spencer seems to sense this. “Okay,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ll get you some water,”

He’s up and out of the room before you can protest, returning a moment later with a glass. He helps you sit up just enough to take a few sips, his hand steady on your back and a duo of pills in his palm, offered out to you. The water is cool and refreshing, and you feel a tiny spark of gratitude for his persistence.

“Better?” he asks, his voice soft.

You nod again, settling back into the pillows. Spencer pulls the blanket up around your shoulders, tucking you in like you’re something fragile and precious.

For a while, he just sits with you. The room is quiet except for the occasional rustle as he adjusts his position. You can feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting for any sign that you need something.

“I was reading about migraines a few weeks ago,” he says after a while, breaking the silence. “Did you know they’ve been documented as far back as ancient Mesopotamia? They used to think they were caused by evil spirits,”

You let out a weak chuckle, which quickly turns into a grimace as the motion makes your head throb.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you laugh,”

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

He falls silent again, but his presence is steady, grounding. At some point, you must drift off, because the next thing you know, the room is even darker, and there’s a cool cloth resting on your forehead.

Spencer is still there, his long legs folded awkwardly beneath him as he sits on the floor beside your bed. He’s reading something—a book, probably, though you can’t make out the title. When he notices you stirring, he sets it aside and leans closer.

“Hey,” he says softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you mumble, though the truth is you’re not sure. The pain is still there, but it feels muted somehow, like his presence has taken the edge off.

“Good,” he says, and you can hear the relief in his voice.

He helps you drink more water, then offers you the herbal tea he’d mentioned earlier. It’s warm and comforting, the steam curling up in delicate tendrils.

“You don’t have to stay,” you tell him after a while, though part of you doesn’t want him to leave.

“I want to,” he replies simply.

And so he does.

Hours pass in a blur of sleep and wakefulness. Each time you open your eyes, Spencer is there, adjusting the cold pack, refilling your water, or just sitting quietly with his book. He doesn’t seem to mind the monotony, doesn’t seem to need anything from you except the chance to be there.

It’s a kind of care you’re not used to—a quiet, steadfast devotion that asks for nothing in return. And in your vulnerable state, it feels like the greatest gift anyone could give.

By the time the migraine starts to lift, the edges of the pain receding like a tide going out, you feel something else blossoming in its place. Gratitude, yes, but also something deeper, something you’re not quite ready to name.

“Spence,” you say softly, as the first rays of morning light begin to filter through the window.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He smiles, and for the first time, you notice how tired he looks. “Anytime,” he says, and you believe him.

[1d1195]

Traditional Extra VI

Read Traditional here

Here's a little angsty bit from our lovely (jealous) MC this time around based on this ask

~4.5 k words

“I think you should talk to him.”

“No way,” she snorted. “Do you know how embarrassing that would be? And pathetic.”

Louis laughed. “The man has literally fired his best friend over jealousy of you. This is nothing,” he promised with a shake of his head.

“You don’t need to go with me, baby.”

“M’not arguing ‘bout this,” Harry muttered holding the door open for her to go through first. As she passed him, he glared at the cast on her delicate arm. For the last six weeks he looked at it loathingly. It hurt him to know she was in pain those early weeks, shaken, and physically broken.

Fortunately, it was the last day of glaring at it.

Things were better at Styles Incorporated. Her brilliant idea of course was beyond helpful, lifesaving in more ways than one. Harry was certain without it he would have had to make some deep cuts and would have ruined an innumerable number of his employees’ lives. They didn’t even know she was responsible for the idea.

Thanking her would never ever be enough.

Niall wasn’t fired anymore. She brought Harry tea every day at quarter past one. His office was spruced up with new furniture and electronics once more. Niall caught M&Ms in his mouth that she tossed from her desk and passed notes to her during meetings. Everything was right again.

Except her fragile arm. After the first week, she claimed it didn’t bother her (it didn’t, truly; but Harry was miserable about it). It was a little inconvenient. Showering was a challenge, but Harry rarely let her do that on her own without a broken bone, so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Having sex with a cast on was also her least favorite. There was nothing un-sexier than a honking plaster on her forearm. Harry swore it didn’t even register in his brain.

I hope this doesn’t bother you... But m’never looking at your forearm when we’re in bed whether y’have a cast or not.

So, there was that.

Harry was still Louis’ least favorite person. It made him extremely anxious; in some ways, he was more worried about Louis’ feelings for him than her arm being broken or even the state of his company. There was no her if Louis didn’t like him. She reassured him that he was being extra, and she would speak to him, but he was certain Louis would melt him with his eyes if he could.

“It wasn’t his fault, Louis!” She whined laying across the sofa dramatically. “You’re being the worst right now!”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t like that you got broken.”

“It’s not like Harry was the one that crashed into me or snapped my arm,” she reminded him.

“I don’t care; you shouldn’t have left.”

She groaned. “So blame me!”

“Never,” he shook his head decidedly. Even getting Eleanor to talk him off the ledge was no help. Louis was almost unbearably stubborn. Eleanor swore she would keep working on him.

Once the cast was off, she was hoping it would go back to normal.

That day was today. She waltzed up to the counter to check in and then sat beside Harry on the hard plastic chairs. He was on the phone while she checked in, speaking in hushed whispers so as not to bother the others in the waiting room. It was definitely a business call—it was the middle of the day and she almost got away with leaving without him knowing and fussing but Niall told him.

Niall walked toward their office when he dropped Harry off at the elevator beside her.

“Tattle tale,” she glared at his retreating figure. He turned his head over his shoulder and winked at her with a telling smile that he didn’t care at all.

Harry frowned. “Kitten,” he sounded so hurt waiting alongside her. “Why didn’t y’tell me?” He pouted.

She sighed. “Because you’ve been so fussy. They’re just going to take it off. Plus, it’ll smell and—”

The elevator pinged with its arrival cutting her off from listing anything else. The nice thing about riding the elevator with the CEO was rarely did anyone want to be caught in the elevator with Harry. It meant they often got to make out privately in the middle of the workday. Harry stood at the back, leaning against the handrail. He looked at the ceiling as they descended the floors with the world’s weariest sigh. She stood beside him and tilted her head up as well. “I’m tired of you being upset about it.”

“You’re the most important thing in the world t’me, kitten,” he reminded her. “M’not taking this lightly.”

She smiled sadly at him. “I know. I know, baby. But you’re... it’s not your fault. And I don’t need you to be here for this. I know you’re busy. I saw your schedule. That’s why I didn’t tell you about it. If you had the time I would—”

“I’m never too busy for you,” his look was nearly ferocious. Intense and serious. Way too much for getting her cast sawed off on Thursday. He grabbed her hand and twined their fingers together. “Y’have t’know that,” he whispered. “I’d...I’d give up everything for you.”

“I don’t want that,” she shook her head with a little eye roll, but the gravity of his words ached her heart. She could feel each syllable shaking her body and soul.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She smiled. “Say it again,” she teased.

He chuckled pressing his forehead to hers and pecked her lips quickly. “I love you,” he repeated.

“Again.”

“I love you,” he promised and cupped her face between his hands and kissed her until the elevator brought them to the main floor.

“You can stay out here while it gets cut off,” she offered when he ended the call and scrolled through a plethora of texts and emails.

“Absolutely not,” he murmured without looking up from his phone.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her good arm around her stomach and let the cast arm lay limply in her lap. He was way too overdressed. It wasn’t his fault. He was just dressed for work. A button down tucked into a pair of fitted slacks. He looked like a model for Armani. She stared at him and looked at her outfit—having known she was leaving early for the cast cutting, she wore a pair of leggings and a jersey dress over it. She was comfortable—not overdressed but still presentable for work. She looked like a mess in comparison to Harry.

“S’matter?” he asked glancing from his phone. “Are you in pain?”

“You look really nice,” she murmured.

He smirked and shook his head. “Yeah? S’that make y’sad?”

“I look like a goblin right now.”

He chuckled, tucking his phone back in his pocket. He shook his head. “You look beautiful. You always do.”

“Hey Harry, what are you doing here?”

They turned to the sound of the woman standing at the door leading to the patient rooms. The woman was stunning. Even in scrubs, with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her cheekbones were sharp and accented by the prettiest contoured makeup she had ever seen. Her eyelashes were full and lovely. She was almost certain they were natural.

Her jaw dropped a bit just looking at her, seeing that she very obviously knew Harry.

“Oh, hi, Soph,” Harry stood and cleared his throat. “Um... my girlfriend,” he gestured holding his hand out for her to take and she rose to her feet. “Her cast is coming off today.”

“Oh, you can come this way. Sorry! That was a bit unprofessional. Just surprised to see Harry,” Soph smiled sweetly and gestured for the pair of them to walk through the door. She glanced at Harry as she followed behind the pretty woman in scrubs. Harry looked a little paler. If she wasn’t so obsessed with him, she might not have noticed the change in his expression. But she had seen the worry in his eyes hidden behind the careful front he managed to keep composed when he talked with other businessmen and businesswomen. Usually when they said something that irked him because he disagreed with their philosophy or work ethic—Harry was good at what he did and had been for a while. It was hard to listen to all but bad ideas.

But she hadn’t seen it in relation to a woman she had never heard of. Was Soph short for Sophia or Sophie? Or something else? How did he know her? Why did he call her by a nickname?

“How’s your arm feel?” She asked gesturing for her to sit on the patient table while she walked to the counter to type on the chart on the tablet she carried.

“It’s fine. I think it could have come off two weeks ago,” she said still feeling weary about how Harry knew her. Harry rolled his eyes.

“She’s been trying t’rush the healing process,” Harry said.

Soph smirked. “I don’t blame you,” she said looking back at her. “It’s no fun with a cast. I was in a splint for my ankle after an ice-skating thing, remember how irritated I was?” Her question was directed to Harry. She felt the pit of her stomach churn and warm with anxiety.

Harry smirked at the memory almost instinctively. “I remember,” he mumbled quietly. It felt like a knife had been twisted in her heart. She hoped her face wasn’t betraying her internal feelings.

Soph pulled the saw off the table that would cut the plaster off her arm. She had trouble focusing on what Soph was saying because she was almost unbearably pretty. Soph went through the standard cast-cutting procedures as if she said it a hundred times a day and showed her how the saw wouldn’t cut her, pressed it to her own hand as proof and reminded her to speak up if for whatever reason she felt pain and wanted to take a breather.

“You two know each other?” She couldn’t help but ask while she sliced through the plaster. Harry was staring at her arm and nothing else.

“Like four years ago,” she smiled softly. “I was in college; my roommate was an intern at Styles Incorporated. She hated it there,” she laughed quietly. “But she brought me to the holiday party, and I asked for a drink at the bar and this guy bumped into me; spilled my drink all over me. I was glad I was wearing a dark colored dress.”

“Niall shoved me,” he grumbled looking away briefly to hide the irritation he felt over the little faux pas.

“It wasn’t a big deal. Obviously, I was used to frat house parties so having a nice Chardonnay spill on me was a lot better than party punch,” she rolled her eyes. “He was beside himself though,” she glanced at Harry with this knowing smile that made it seem like a secret. Harry’s lips twisted slightly in a half smirk. Her insides twisted again, and she had to remind herself internally to keep calm. They had a private thing. Something she didn’t know about.

Harry was clearly with this very pretty girl. Someone he obviously cared about. Sure, it was ages ago, but it was everything she feared. That stupid woman from one of the worst days of her life was right. Harry didn’t date plain girls. Not if Soph was any indication. “Have you been dating long?” Soph asked.

“Just...” she shook her head trying to do the math and feeling pathetic that it didn’t add up to much. “Just about a year,” she murmured.

“Officially,” Harry added quickly. “We dated for about six months prior,” he reminded her and told Soph like it was necessary she knew.

“That’s sweet,” she cooed kindly. Her smile was genuine. Soph was genuine. There wasn’t an ounce of jealousy or cattiness in her voice seeing Harry. She wasn’t sure she would feel the same way if the roles were reversed which made her inferiority ache in her stomach and chest more. “Well,” Soph had excitement in her voice. “Here it is,” she smiled and pulled the plaster and cushioning off her arm in two pieces. “It might be a little stiff. Regular over the counter medicine will help alleviate any final pain from the muscle stretching a bit more freely. But you’re good to go,” she patted her arm.

She shook her head trying to remind herself that she was supposed to be polite. But the feeling of inadequacy washed over her. “Thank you,” she said kindly. “I love your nails,” because she did. They were pink for Valentine’s Day maybe and the little hearts on the ring finger were adorable. It also made her notice that she didn’t have a ring.

“Oh thanks! I am actually really disappointed in my nail place—I need these off, but I don’t want to go back to where I went—they’re so outgrown,” she frowned. “I’ve been trying for ages to find a good one.”

“Oh,” she pulled out her phone. “I go to this place—not very often, admittedly. But they’re good,” she offered and held her screen out to show her.

“Thank you so much, that’s awesome! Your nails look so healthy and lovely, I noticed while I was cutting  the cast off. You don’t even have a color on them and I’m so jealous of them,” at least the feeling was mutual. “Would you mind texting me the name?” She asked with a kind smile. “Harry probably still has my number,” she turned to Harry for confirmation.

This time Harry’s posture was as stiff as her arm. He cleared his throat. “Mm.”

“Perfect,” Soph smiled as if she hadn’t a clue how weird this all was. As if she wasn’t aware of the anxiety and jealousy coursing through her. Maybe she was a good actress. “It was nice meeting you!” Soph chirped sweetly. “Nice to see you, Harry,” she pressed her hand on his arm as she passed out the door and left the pair of them to leave behind her.

*

Harry chatted on the phone while he drove back to Styles Incorporated. Normally, she listened in on the phone calls trying to help as best she could when needed. Muting his call when she had something important to add or a tidbit of information, a file, or something to help with the call.

But the feeling of inadequacy was the only thing she could focus on during the car ride. She scrolled through her phone and tried to ignore the images of someone so pretty with Harry. She was a good three inches taller than her. Her skin was flawless. She looked like she worked out often. The thought of her in Harry’s personal space made her feel sick.

She was nothing like her.

How could Harry want someone like her when he had dated someone like Soph?

“Y’okay, beautiful?” He asked. “Your arm hurt?” He wondered, reaching over and placing his hand on her thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Just kind of tired all of a sudden. Skipped our coffee.”

He smiled softly. “I was going t’stop on the way,” he promised.

“Thank you.”

“’Course, kitten.”

*

She hoped the feelings of inadequacy would have dissipated by now but after tracking down Soph’s phone number she even sent her a pic of her new nails thanking her for the recommendation.

An M&M hit the side of her head. “You okay, darling?” Niall asked.

It was hard to keep it in. “Do you know Harry’s ex, Soph?” She asked.

“Sophie?” He blinked in surprise. Her heart felt heavy knowing her full name. “Yeah...they dated a while back...uh...for like a year, maybe? She was in college. Harry was only just getting Styles Incorporated under way. The second or third year?”

A year?

She nodded. “She cut my cast off,” she explained.

“Oh,” Niall tilted his head. “Was she...mean?”

“No, she was...really nice.”

“Yeah. I kind of figured. She always was.” As awful as it felt to watch Soph and Harry share a smile at the fond memory of ice-skating—even if it ended with her in a splint—knowing that Niall thought she was nice was somehow just as awful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. “Is your arm bothering you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Just a little distracted. I didn’t sleep well,” she lied.

“You should go home, I think Harry left for a lunch meeting,” Niall explained.

“He left?” She asked quietly.

Niall smirked biting his lip. “Sorry, darling. He pushed the lunch meeting to today so he could go to the hospital with you the other day.”

She hated when he did that.

“Okay,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

She gathered her belongings trying to feel less ridiculous but unable to quell the frustration she felt. “Call me if you need something,” she reminded him.

“Always, darling. Same to you,” he eyed her suspiciously.

*

Louis was glad her arm was freed of the cast. “Maybe you should get my name tattooed on it,” he suggested missing his name across the entire plaster more than he hated the reason for the cast. She snorted.

Eleanor was still at work, but Louis returned to their place early per her request. They sat on the sofa, watching a movie and snacking on popcorn and candy. “Do you want to tell me why I left work early?” He asked.

She shook her head. “It’s stupid.”

“Trouble in paradise?” He questioned.

“Drop it, Louis,” she muttered stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

He did.

For like four minutes. “Did Harry mess up?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing Louis, I’m being ridiculous.”

Another minute. “Are you finally mad about him breaking your arm?”

“Can you not be a child for like, five minutes?”

“Probably not.”

She sighed and pressed her palms against the length of her face and kept them over her eyes. “Harry’s ex cut my cast off,” she mumbled. “She was beautiful and nice,” she explained. “It was so humbling. I’m nothing like her. She was this dainty fairy and I looked like a potato farmer in comparison,” she sighed.

“Babe,” Louis frowned. His voice was gentle. Him acting like a child finally ceased. “Obviously I’m still mad at Harry—”

“Stupid,” she grumbled.

“–But that man loves you more than anyone has ever loved anybody. Except me with El of course,” he reminded her. “There’s a reason they didn’t work out.”

She bit the inside corner of her lip and tried to stop the feeling of tears in her eyes from surfacing. “She was so pretty, Louis,” she whispered. “It wasn’t even close.”

“But Harry loves you,” he repeated. “I know I’m being a little ridiculous about my frustration toward him, but honestly, there’s no one I trust with you more than him. He would probably break every bone in his body for you still.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I think you should talk to him.”

“No way,” she snorted. “Do you know how embarrassing that would be? And pathetic.”

Louis laughed. “The man has literally fired his best friend over jealousy of you. This is nothing,” he promised with a shake of his head. Her phone vibrated with a message. “Speak of the devil?” Louis asked. She ignored him reading the message from Harry.

Niall said you weren’t feeling well. Hope everything is okay... Let me know what you want for dinner. See you later, kitten xx Tell Louis I said hi (and I’m sorry.)

“Can you imagine your ex-boyfriend doing that for you?” Louis asked reading over her shoulder.

She sighed and put her phone faced down. “Just tell him?”

Louis nodded. “Communication, babe. You might even get to have really hot sex after too.”

She spared her best friend of the details that all of their sex was really hot.

*

Harry had laid out a feast for the two of them when she arrived home. “Whoa, it smells good in here,” she called from the entryway kicking her shoes off. The relief flooded him. Niall told him she left early while he was gone, and it made him almost crazy immediately. It shouldn’t have, he had her location (she had his too) and he knew she was at Louis’...but it was more than that. She had been off all weekend. Less chatty with him. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes which always happened right before she got sick. She had gotten a nasty cold twice since he knew her, and he also remembered her cycle messing with her regular, adorable self.

He hurried around the corner to look at her. She was in a black turtleneck with a pair of tweed overalls. She was so pretty it hurt his chest and he had seen her at work, and he still felt speechless. As much as he loved to get a peek at her cleavage, he thought the turtleneck was so sexy and she looked like a princess. Her hair was twisted in a clip, a few pieces falling forward to frame her face. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked. “Are you okay?”

“God, you’re beautiful,” he sighed dreamily.

She laughed and looked at her feet briefly, her face warming at his compliment. “Thank you, baby.”

He pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Are y’okay?” He asked. “M’worried. Y’were a little off all weekend. Like when y’get sick. I made y’some comfort food,” he explained. She nodded against his chest. He had swapped out his work clothes for a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“M’fine,” she murmured in his shirt. She inhaled his heavenly scent and tried to steel herself to be brave and have the conversation she needed to have.

“Yeah? Y’seem sad, kitten. Tell me s’matter and I’ll fix it.”

She bit the inside of her lip. Part of her knew it would break Harry’s heart for her feelings of inadequacy. He had done nothing but adore her and she knew that. It was just... well, she couldn’t help the shake to her confidence (or lack thereof) seeing the pretty, nice girl who knew Harry intimately. “Is dinner ready or can we sit outside for a minute?” She asked. With her face still pressed to his chest, her body caged in his arms, she could feel his heartbeat flutter. She thought it was weird.

“We can sit outside,” he murmured and released everything but her hand and tugged her to the cold bed outside. Harry flipped on the heated lamp and aimed it toward the bed. She pulled a blanket from the basket near the swinging furniture and climbed onto the mattress. She waited for Harry to join her and wrapped the blanket around him, especially with his short sleeves.

“I have to tell—”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He blurted.

“Oh, for the love of God,” she rolled her eyes. “No Harry, of course not. You’re stuck with me,” she gave him a squeeze now understanding the flutter of his heart against her cheek was anxiety.

His relief deflated out of him in a sigh. “Oh,” he sighed. “Then what’s wrong?” He frowned. She closed her eyes and tucked her face into his collarbone. He rubbed her back soothingly, brushed his lips on her hairline. “Kitten,” he murmured. “Y’can tell me anything. M’sorry you’re upset—”

“I’m jealous,” she whispered.

He blinked, pulled back a bit from her so he could peer awkwardly at her face. “Jealous?” He repeated.

She closed her eyes and nodded. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Soph,” her voice was so quiet Harry wasn’t sure he heard her right.

“Who?”

“Oh, stop it, Harry,” she grumbled.

“Kitten, I have no idea who you’re—oh. Oh,” there was a long pause. “You’ve been upset since Thursday?” He asked. “Why didn’t y’tell me?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing.”

He snorted. “Kitten, I fired m’best friend in a jealous rage,” he reminded her. “Y’have nothing on me.” She imagined when she told Louis about this, that not even the embarrassment she felt would feel as bad as Louis’ smug I told you so. “Did I do something t’make y’uncomfortable?” He asked. She could see his mind spinning thinking back to Thursday and the entire interaction.

“Harry,” she sighed and looked at his green eyes filled with concern for her. His gaze was gentle. It felt like a hug in itself just to be looked at him. “She is so pretty.”

“So?”

He was going to make her say it. “I look nothing like her,” she whispered.

“Well, ‘course not. You are much more beautiful,” he shrugged casually.

“Harry,” she whined and pressed her face into his chest.

“Are you jealous because you think she’s prettier?” He asked, tilting her warm-shamed face back up to look at her with those beautiful eyes. “Kitten,” he frowned.

“I am not jealous because I think she’s prettier,” she grumbled and looked down at her nose to avoid his gaze. “I know she’s prettier,” she mumbled.

He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Kitten, s’absolutely wrong,” he promised. “You are infinitely more beautiful than her. Look at how pretty y’look right now. And every time y’hold a door open for someone? Or how you jus’ know what I need in every meeting before I do. Or for anyone. The kindness y’have for everyone you meet. You were jealous of her and y’still told her where t’get her nails done,” he reminded her. “She would never do that. She’s pretty and nice but there is no comparison t’you, my love. We dated ages ago and it didn’t work. S'no reason t'be jealous of her.”

“I know but—”

“Kitten, I don’t think you would ever make out with someone else while we were dating; even if y’were drunk and at a college party,” he explained silencing her completely. Her lips parted slightly in surprise trying to process it. “We were at different stages in life. I was too busy for a girlfriend while m’company was starting. She wanted t'have fun in college. M’glad she’s happy. But when she told me she kissed someone else, I was relieved,” he explained. “It hurt a bit, but it was jus’ easier t’let go of something I knew wasn’t really right for me.”

“She made out with someone else?” She asked in shock. “How could she do that while dating you?”

Harry laughed loudly. He nuzzled his face against her ear and kissed the side of her head. “S’exactly why I know y’have nothing t’be jealous of, kitten,” he whispered. “M’so in love with you. I think if y'made out with someone else, I would probably kill him,” he admitted. “I didn’t feel that way with her,” he was quiet for a few moments. “Does that make y’feel better?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“M’sorry if I didn’t make y’feel beautiful or perfect, kitten. Y’very much are. Think I’d lose m’mind without you.”

She frowned slightly. “You always make me feel beautiful.”

“S’because you are,” he murmured and kissed her softly on the lips until he pulled away and kissed her forehead. “Y’ready for dinner?” He asked.

She nodded, but stopped him before he fully climbed off the bed. She gabbed his face and kissed him again, a smile on his lips as he kissed her back. “I love you,” she sighed softly when she broke away. His gaze was soft looking at her eyes again.

“Say it again,” he whispered, making her giggle.

--

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[klausysworld]

Hi, your writing about how a yandere reader kidnapped Klaus is quiet interesting and this gave me an idea: how about a scenario where a yandere reader kidnapped a yandere Klaus? Like where reader faked Klaus to believe she was innocent and sweet but in fact she was just obsessive and possessive as he was, so she kidnapped him to protect him from being hurt by his enemies? Thanks a lot.

(Readers gonna be a witch cuz I doubt a human could kidnap him by themselves)

Power Play

He started it.

He was the one who started following me, not the other way around. He wanted to know more about me, know where I live and how involved I was with the ‘save Elena gang’. He wanted to stand outside my house and watch me like he didn’t know I left my curtains open on purpose.

It was all him.

It isn’t my fault that his obsession brought on mine.

He was just so possessive and jealous and damaged and desperate for love, I couldn’t just ignore him.

I wanted him so I took him. Just more gradually than maybe I would like.

I had to entice him first. Once I realised he had chosen me, I needed to find out why.

I didn’t really get in the way of his plans and kept relatively quiet whenever the others were planning anything and to Klaus that mean that I was innocent in the situation and didn’t like to hurt people. Partly true but it was more that I couldn’t be bothered.

But I was happy to play the innocent victim if that’s what he wanted.

All I had to do was have him find me crying over a boy and he was all over me, telling me I was too good for a common fool and that ‘a little witch like me’ should be with someone much more powerful to keep me safe.

The feel of his arms around me was perfect and I knew I would need it more. I could hear his breath hitch as I hugged him back tightly, his hand ran through my hair making us both sigh before inevitably having to pull away.

He kissed my forehead and I kissed his cheek before we both parted, each of us with a smile on our faces for very similar reasons.

That night when he stood outside my house I decided to give him more of a show, leaving the curtains open after my shower and sitting by my window as I rubbed cream onto my bare legs.

It was so easy to wind him up, showing him any amount of my skin had him immediately as close as he was allowed without it being suspicious.

Walking around in my mini skirt and tight cropped top always had him approaching me, his arm fining its way around my waist as he pulled me to him

“You look gorgeous today sweetheart” he would compliment while staring any others who looked my way down.

“Oh, thank you, I liked the colours” i mumbled while smiling up at him making his lips upturn and him to nod

“So do I”

Though I knew his attention was truly more focused on my legs and cleavage, not that I minded.

Occasionally he would request a spell or two from me but I pretended I wasn’t very good at all. Which earned me lessons from him

“A pretty little witch like you should know how to defend herself, how about we start with something simple hm?” He placed a candle in-front of me and although I could easily light a thousand of them alight, I made a struggle out off it and made myself appear frustrated and upset so he would bring comfort and words of encouragement.

Once I had it lit he was over the moon, spinning me in his arms and kissing the corner of my mouth before bringing a beginners spell book over and allowing me to choose one to try next.

I knew if I got too good or confident then he would feel threatened, he didn’t like powerful things, he liked people to be weaker and sweeter than him.

So I was just that. Even took to baking to make appear as though I had some basic human hobbies, I would bring him biscuits and cakes when we had my lessons and each time he tried a new one he threw a fuss over it.

When he started gifting me little flowy dresses I knew he thought me to be an angel. Diamond necklaces and pearl earrings always being presented to me wrapped in pink ribbons. White was his favourite colour on me

“The colour of innocence and purity my love, it’s perfect for your beauty”

“There must be something I can buy you?” I offered with a smile but he shook his head

“Your baked treats are all I need” he murmured

“Surely you desire something else? Anything?” I questioned and he shifted in his seat, clearly thinking something a little more than a normal gift. “How about my blood?” I tilted my head and his eyes widened

“Love-“

“No I insist, you can drink from me, I don’t mind” I gave him my wrist and watched the hesitation on his face. “Please? It’s my thank you to you…for being so generous and caring for me” I whispered and his eyes softened

“Alright…you tell me if you feel dizzy or if it hurts okay?” He checked and I nodded.

The second his teeth were in me I knew he was hooked, the moan that left him said enough as the veins danced beneath his eyes and he swallowed my blood down like an addict.

It drove his obsession through the roof and he found himself needing it more and more. As soon as I was offering he was latched onto my arm just like I had expected.

It was all too easy to have him feel like he saved me. Just had to put myself in a couple risky positions for him to swoop in and suddenly he never wanted to leave my side.

Only downside was it was hard to have any time when he wasn’t watching me to plan my attack on him.

So I had to move slow, unbearably slow. But eventually I had it set up. Turns out the Lockwoods have more than one underground cellars and they’re hidden all around.

I chose one furthest out in the woods and told him I had planned something special for us. Of course he probably expected a date of sorts, most likely didn’t think I would be kidnapping him.

I felt a little bad when I stabbed him in the back with a high concentration of wolfsbane and vervain but at the same time it was for the best. The group were planning to kill him and for once their planned actually sounded promising and I didn’t like that. It was more risky to let them go through with it than for me hide him. Besides it’s only temporary…

Lets say he wasn’t too pleased to wake up in chains, apparently it wasn’t one of his kinks,yet.

But really I think he was more upset that I wasn’t the sweet little flower that he thought I was.

His first question was who enchanted the chains but he knew. He just didn’t want it to be true.

“Sweetheart I don’t understand…if you had all this…power why hide it from me? Why do this now?” He gestured to the cage he trapped in.

“The Salvatores have another plan. But this one was a little too promising and I couldn’t risk them getting you.” I told him with a weak smile, still keeping my distance so he couldn’t get too mad

“So you have me here…so they don’t kill me?” He trailed a little confused and I nodded

“Yes and because…I love you and you aren’t very good at keeping yourself safe” I mumbled and he blinked right back at me. I could feel my face getting a little hotter and I glanced to the exit

“Y/n…I love you too, let me out and we can talk about this a little more…well humanly” he muttered with a small and somewhat nervous chuckle.

I sighed as I looked him over, I knew he was trying his best to keep his anger in check and I was beginning to feel a little bad but I was in the right. And it’s not like he wasn’t going to do the same thing to me, I watched him too difference was that he didn’t know it.

“I will…soon just after everything has cooled down okay? Everything’s gonna be just fine. You don’t have to worry, you can drink from me or blood bags, you have a mattress and pillow, blankets. What else do you need? I got the fairy lights so it’s not dark. Books, I even got you some canvases and artsy stuff. This place is temporary, just relax for a moment and I’m gonna be back really soon okay?” I had gotten closer to him as I spoke and my hand cupped his face gently.

“You’re leaving? Love, you can’t leave me down here!?” He grabbed my wrist firmly but not painfully however he was still incredibly weak so I easily got out of his grip.

“I have to make sure everyone believes you’ve left” I whispered while leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “I can’t have anyone looking for you”

“Y/n, don’t leave me” he murmured, his forehead pressed to mine making me sigh softly

“It’s not for long klaus, I promise”

“If you love me…you wont do this to me” he mumbled and I hummed

“You act as though you don’t have a room ready in your basement ready for me”

He pulled his head back and frowned at me “how on earth do you know that?”

“Do you think I don’t see you outside my window?” I whispered and his eye’s darkened

“You watch me too?”

“Mhm except I actually go inside, I don’t just wait in the garden”

He stared at me for a moment before a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips “you truly are something else aren’t you sweetheart?” He muttered, the backs of his fingers brushed over my cheek. “What is it you want me to do love?”

“Just stay here until it’s safe…maybe we’ll go somewhere else after, somewhere real far away so it’s just us”

“Okay…how about we start looking, after you go secure your plan?” He kissed my neck softly and smiled down at me

“We can take Elena, for your hybrids if you really want” I whispered hoping if he was just lying to trap me back, I could sway his decisions.

“Nonsense, my hybrids don’t like me anyway, I’d rather just have you my love”

I just hoped it was true, not that it mattered, if he didn’t then I’d just have to get better security measures.

[bellysoupset]

Vince sick with the flu at Wendy's birthday

Vince knew he was bound to catch the bug after being so terribly exposed, he had just been counting on the fact he had gotten the stomach flu back in the end of January and hoping this meant he was immune.

No such luck.

Not only he had definitely caught the bug, judging by how upset and gurgly his belly felt, but he had caught it on Wendy's birthday. He wanted to cry.

"Are you alright?" His father asked, looking up from the dishes he was doing when Vince groaned, tugging at the roots of his hair.

"I think I caught the stomach bug that's going around the school," he answered and Giuseppe frowned, drying his hands on the dishcloth and walking closer.

His palm was cold against Vince's forehead, all soft thanks to age, "you're a little warm, piccolino," he hadn't called Vin that since his son had outgrown him.

"That's just great," Vince sighed, leaning slightly on his dad's touch. He wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and crawl up into his childhood bed, let his family fuss over him, but instead he had to hit the road. There was no way he was going to miss Wen's birthday.

They had already talked the night before, video called at midnight so he could wish her happy birthday, and texted in the morning, Wendy sending excited updates about everything.

Her parents had sent her a huge breakfast basket with flowers and she had gotten a bunch of chocolate from patients, which Wendy was over the moon about as it was her first time getting gits from patients.

She was going to have lunch with Bella, Jonah, Barbie and Megan and then the party was going to be at night, at a rooftop and Vince knew for a fact that Jon had gotten fireworks for her as a surprise.

"I have to get going," Vin forced himself to pull back and stand up. As soon as he stood up, he felt all sorts of woozy, so Vin grabbed the wall behind him and breathed through his mouth until the slight vertigo faded away.

Giuseppe's silver eyebrows were up, blue eyes scanning him, "you're planning on driving like this? No, you're not."

"Babbo, I can't not go," Vince sighed, "I'm gonna drive slow, I promise. And text you as soon as I get there."

His father didn't look one bit pleased, "at least take some medicine before you go..." he mumbled, looking nervous about the prospect.

Although the old man looked fearful, he did let Vin go, without telling Ma about the fact he was sick, something Vince was very grateful for. There was no way his mother was going to be this cool about him getting in the motorcycle when feeling that woozy.

By the time Vince entered the big city, he was freezing. It was only partially due to the fever, it was the last day of February, so it wasn't exactly warm to begin with.

He had the key to Wen's apartment and she, thankfully, still wasn't home, so Vince headed straight to the bathroom. His reflection was a sight, his skin had gone from its usual light olive tone straight into green territory, all pale and with dark circles around his eyes. His lips were devoid of color and his hair had flattened down around his head, clinging to his clammy skin.

"Looking handsome," Vince grumbled, planting his hands on the sink and taking a steadying breath as his stomach gurgled uncomfortably. The nausea was taking its sweet pace building and currently he was covered in goosebumps, his mouth feeling sticky and sweet.

Vin stumbled into the shower area and turned up the hot water, hoping to wash away the look of sickness. He had very little energy, so he just stood under the stream, letting the water do most of the work.

He washed his hair and then gagged when the scent of conditioner hit his nose, making him rush to wash it off. It was to no avail, and Vince leaned over the drain, retching softly until a thin stream of watery puke came up.

It brought no relief whatsoever, but his stomach's muscles relaxed, leaving him still just as nauseated and unable to barf. Vince groaned, washing away the evidence and his face all over again.

Once he stepped out of the bathroom, with Wen's large lilac towel wrapped around his waist, Vince opened a smile as he saw Wen had left an outfit picked out on top of the bed.

He put on the boxers and the social pants and was sitting on the edge of the bed, struggling to tie his social shoes since the position squeezed his tummy, when Wendy opened the bedroom door.

"Oh hi..." she sounded all breathless and Vince didn't have to force a smile. His girlfriend stood at the doorway of her bedroom, with her hair in rollers and a pink robe.

"Hi birthday girl," Vince grinned, "c'mere-" he got up to kiss her and Wendy's whole face turned pink as she promptly wrapped her arms around his neck, getting on her tippy toes.

They stumbled back inside the bedroom and Vince bit down a groan as he felt Wendy climb his lap, still kissing him fiercely. He moved his face, planting a kiss on her neck and squeezing her on a hug.

"I missed you," Vince whispered, planting a kiss on her shoulder, pushing her robe out of the way, "I missed you so much."

Wendy let out a pleased sigh, pulling back and running her fingers through his humid hair, "I missed you too," she pressed her forehead to his, "I almost wish we could just stay in bed."

Vince snorted at that, patting her ass so she'd get off his lap, "no, you don't, you'd never miss your own party."

She blushed as he read her so easily, then climbed off of him, "I'm just gonna take a quick shower, can't get the hair wet. Are you almost done?"

Almost, he just really needed to throw up first, Vince thought, but kept his happy smile on.

"Yeah, pretty much. Take your time, though," he kissed her temple and swatted her ass, "I'm gonna go get your gift."

"My gift?" Wendy's voice went up at least two notes as she smiled and Vince rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, your gift," he steered her to the bathroom, "c'mon, you don't wanna be late."

He had left Wendy's gift in his backpack and Vince went to the living room to retrieve it, while buttoning up his shirt. She had picked a deep red button up, her favorite color on him.

Vince sat on the couch as he heard the shower running, allowing his mask to slip and wrapping an arm around his stomach. Even though he had left his belt quite lose and not yet tucked in the shirt, he already felt like he was being squeezed by it all.

His intestines were gurgling something fierce and when Vin pressed on his warm, sensitive belly, he felt a burp sneak up his throat. Airy and with no sound, but turning wet at the end. Vin snapped his mouth shut, swallowing back the urge to gag.

He felt another shudder run up his spine and Vince pressed his eyes closed, valiantly fighting a cramp- Then he heard the bathroom door open and immediately pulled himself together, pushing everything out of his mind and getting up.

Wendy was already in her shapewear, pulling out a deep magenta dress from her closet. She had removed her hair from the rollers and they fell around her heart shaped face like old Hollywood waves.

"You look great," Vince smiled, leaning against the bedroom's doorway, "you look gorgeous."

Wendy opened a big smile, then she caught a glimpse of the simple black box in his hands and raised her eyebrows, "what is it?"

"Turn around," Vince stepped closer, holding the large square box. He was quite nervous about it, actually. It hadn't been cheap, but it was nowhere near what a girl like her was used to. He knew Wendy was the Harry Winston and Cartier sort, so he was really nervous about buying her jewelry.

Vince put the necklace around her neck and planted a kiss on top of her head as she looked at her reflection in the closet mirror, "what do you think?"

It was a simple white gold necklace, with a flower pendant made of four rubies and the center a topaz.

Wendy didn't say a thing, leaning in to inspect it and Vince cringed, feeling a whole new layer of nausea wash over him.

"I know it's no Tiffany's or whatever, but-"

"I love it," she interrupted him, glaring at him in the mirror, "it's stunning."

Vince's cheeks burned and he fidgeted uncomfortably, as Wendy smoothed the necklace against her collarbones and opened a pleased smile.

"I really love it, Vin," she turned around to hug him by the waist and tilted her head back, opening a blinding smile, "thank you."

"You're not just saying that? Because its from a local jewelry shop, so you can definitely exchang-"

"I love it," she shook her head, squeezing him, "and it matches my dress."

Vince let out a scoff, biting down a burp as Wendy's head pressed to his upset stomach. He gulped down, keeping a hand in the middle of her naked back and breathing through the queasiness.

There was no way he was going to make it through the night without puking, Vin thought, as Wendy moved in his arms and planted a kiss to his tummy, pulling back.

"I'm just gonna do my make up and we can go," she said happily, putting on her heels and Vince forced a smile.

"Alright, I'm gonna wait in the living room."

The party was in the same rooftop Vince remembered being for Jonah's birthday, when Wendy had gotten sick due to a migraine. It was ironic she had picked it, given how horrible he was feeling.

Vince was practically wincing as Wendy intertwined their fingers together and pulled him as she checked with the staff everything was alright.

He was bouncing a leg nervously up and down and Wen let out a chuckle as she noticed that, "it's just our friends," she misinterpreted his nervousness, grabbing a champagne flute and pushing it in his hands, "you have nothing to be nervous about."

Vince offered her a strained smile, but that wasn't exactly true. Wendy was a social butterfly and he knew for a fact it was not a party just for Jonah, Luke, Bell and Leo. Half the hospital would be there, as well as all the girls she knew from yoga and from other courses. Barbie, Megan, whom Vince had met before, but they still made him nervous. Other people he had no idea how Wendy got acquainted with.

He wanted to die as the place started to fill up and his head continued to swim. Vince couldn't pay attention to anything that was being said, but thankfully his participation in small talk was all but optional.

He was feeling clammy all over as the little canapes started to circulate on top of trays.

Wendy squeezed his arm, "are you hungry?" she tilted her head to look at him and Vin promptly shook his head, almost stumbling back as it made the room spin.

Just the mere thought of putting anything in his stomach made more sickness splash up and he gulped down, "No-" his voice came out all hoarse and Vince cleared his throat, "no, I'm just warm. I'm gonna go outside for some air, okay?"

Wendy pouted slightly, "are you alright...?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Vince squeezed her hand in his, "talk with your friends, I'm just gonna get some air and I'll be back," he promised and she opened a bright smile, turning around and squealing as she caught sight of Jonah entering the room.

Vince turned around and bolted.

It was not lost on him that once upon a time he had found Wendy hunched over the same rail. He pressed his tummy to the iron rail and forced up a sick burp, but nothing came up with it.

Vince groaned, squeezing the metal and feeling like he was about to collapse. His legs were shaking and he couldn't stop swallowing down, his mouth pooling with saliva.

Another burp snuck up on him and Vin whimpered, feeling his eyes sting. He hated this, he wanted to be having fun with Wendy, not almost ruining her party.

A hand came to rest on his back and Vince shuddered, knowing who it was without even looking back, "fucking kill me, Luke."

"What's wrong?" Luke's voice was impossibly soft and Vince tipped to the side, leaning against his best friend's chest. He was freezing, he wanted all warmth he could get.

"Stomach flu..." Vince groaned as his stomach flipped again, "gonna be sick..."

"Okay, think you can make it inside? To the bathroom?" Luke squeezed his nape, rolling his thumb in a comforting manner. Vin took in a deep breath.

"Don't-" he gulped down as a gag interrupted him, "don't want Wendy to see me-"

"Buddy, the chances of her seeing you here are way higher," Luke squeezed him a little tighter, "lean on me, okay? We're gonna speed walk."

"M'kay," Vince slumped almost completely and heard Lucas let out a little huff at his weight, but he didn't let go. He was so dizzy, he didn't actually see a thing as they moved back inside the restaurant area, only heard the noise escalate and then get low once more, as Luke pushed him inside the bathroom.

Vince stumbled, bracing against the sink and Lucas let out a sigh, "c'mere," he wrapped an arm around Vin's chest, steering him towards the toilet and Vince immediately fell to his knees, leaning over the bowl and panting.

His stomach hurt with how much it was churning and finally he let out a weak gag and felt everything he had eaten since morning rush up his throat.

Vince groaned as the sheer amount seemed to suffocate him, coughing and groaning as it stung his nose. He spat in the bowl, blindly reaching to flush it, but his arms were too shaky and that almost caused his chin to hit the porcelain, wasn't it for Luke wrapping an arm around his chest.

"I got you, I got you," Lucas reassured him, before flushing the toilet, "done?"

"Nu-uh," Vince gagged, spitting once again. He had never felt so nauseous in his life, what the hell was this bug?

"Jesus, dude..." Luke groaned when Vince let out another gurgly burp, which quickly morphed into a violent heave and even more puke rushed up and splattered in the bowl.

Lucas moved so he was crouching practically next to him, planting a hand on Vince's forehead and keeping him from taking a dive in the toilet as the heaves continued to rock him. He cringed as he could feel the crazy heat under his palm, it was shocking Vince had been able to play off as healthy for so long with a fever like this.

"Okay, okay, big breath," Luke rubbed his back as Vin let out a whimper and swayed on the spot, bracing against the stall wall and causing the entire thich plastic structure that separated the cubicles to tremble.

"Fuck," Vince breathed out, squeezing his eyes and massaging his chest. His hands were trembling and tears had run down his cheek, he also looked terribly pale, "this isn't a stomach bug, it's some plague."

"It looks like it, yeah," Lucas flushed the toilet again, grabbing a bunch of toilet paper and passing it to Vince, "you good?"

"For now..." Vince wiped his mouth, blowing his nose, "but my stomach is still churning and I feel like I'm gonna shit my pants."

Luke wrinkled his nose in distaste, getting up from the floor, "you need to go home-"

"I can't go to Wendy's, it's her birthday," Vince whined, "I'm not gonna ruin her night-"

"No, you're coming to my place," Luke rolled his eyes, "can you just sit there and not die? I'm gonna let Bell know-"

"Oh god, Bella-" Vince groaned, curling up as much as he could in the small space and Lucas let out a sigh.

"Just don't die, alright? I'll see if she can go home with Wen and you come with me- Don't die," then he turned around and ran out of the bathroom.

Vince sighed, leaning his head back against the hard plastic and trying to find any strength to get up and wash his face. He hated himself for going anywhere close Daniels last week.

There was a gurgle through his stomach and Vince squeezed his belly, breaking in cold sweat. He let out a sickly little burp, getting on all fours and struggling force himself up, swaying so much he nearly smashed his head against the stall wall.

Vince fell down on the toilet, tugging on his social pants and clumsily reaching for the door and locking it, before managing to push down his pants just in time for the runs to hit him.

He wrapped both arms around his tummy, pressing his eyes closed and sniffling pitifully. The cramps were killing him and to make matters worse he was starting to feel nauseous all over again, the curled up position forcing up sickly little burps.

Vince gulped down, breathing slowly through his mouth as the woozy sensation only seemed to get worse. Then there was a knock on the door and his head snapped up, colorful little spots dancing on the corner of his sight.

"Occupied!"

"Vin, it's me," Luke said and he could've cried. In fact, judging by the way his throat was hurting and he could feel his eyes burning, he was pretty sure he was.

"Gimme- Give me a minute..." he groaned, "just wait."

"Okay, yeah, no problem," Lucas said hurriedly and Vince assumed he probably could hear the pleading in his voice, since he didn't fight him.

Vince wiped the cold sweat from his brow once again, taking slow measured breaths as he cleaned up and then got out of the stall, stumbling to the sink in order to wash his hands and his face.

He looked dreadful. Vince made a little pray that Wendy was across the rooftop and didn't get a glimpse at him, because he looked pretty close to a corpse.

He dried the cold water from his face, before all but collapsing against the bathroom's main door, pressing his forehead to it, "Luke."

"Yeah?" Lucas' voice was very clear, as if he was glued to the door and Vince thanked his stars for that.

"I think I'm gonna faint..." his lips felt numb, this wasn't good. The second the weak words made out of his mouth, the door opened. Just in time, because Vince's knees buckled and Luca caught him by the armpits, letting out a grunt as he almost went down with Vin.

"Christ, Vin-" Luke's hand pushed his hair back, patting his cheek, "hey man, I need you to help me here or I'm gonna drag your ass to the hospital."

Vince shook his head, angrily forcing his eyes open and trying to think through the fog, "Wendy-"

He jumped as there was a loud noise, followed by squeals, just outside the private hallway that led to the bathrooms. Luke stiffened his hold around him, only to let out a nervous chuckle.

"It's Jon's fireworks. We should go."

"Uhmm," Vince nodded, grabbing on Luke's arm, "I'm gonna hurl on you."

"I know," Lucas forced him up, voice all strained, "but outside of here, deal?"

"Deal," Vince almost chuckled, pressing his feverish forehead to Luke's shoulder and allowing him to rush them out of the fancy restaurant.

[jomiddlemarch]

And loved me for what might or might not be –

“Let me make you a cup of tea,” Rupert said. It sounded entirely implausible, Rupert standing in what must be his drawing room, in clothes so perfectly tailored to his body they looked as if they’d never been ironed or even laundered, making such an ordinary offer. Though to be fair, he’d enunciated every syllable in his posh accent, nothing like the way Da talked about making a cuppa for Mam, a cigarette dangling from his lip.

If it hadn’t been for the spaniels sleeping in front of the marble fireplace and the terrier whining for him to pet it, she’d never have believed it possible.

“Do you even know how to make a proper cup of tea?” she said.

“I ought to be offended by that, angel, but I have a fair idea of the impression I make,” he replied, his lips curving in a smile. “I’m not as helpless as you might imagine in a kitchen.”

“You underestimate my imagination,” Taggie said tartly, partly to surprise him and partly to distract herself from the vision his words had conjured, Rupert shagging a woman senseless on a well-scrubbed refectory table, Rupert coming up behind a woman washing dishes and bending her over to take her, Rupert’s hand, wet with soapsuds, cupping a woman’s breast through her apron bib. A woman, but really, it was always herself, Taggie being ravished, lavished with his attention, her name on his lips that’s right, Taggie darling, let me have a taste, so good, angel. He called her angel because he didn’t know better just how filthy her dreams were. Hade become since she’d met him.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said.

“I suppose you might try,” she said. “If it’s horrible, I’ll make a fresh pot.”

“We’ll hope it won’t come to that,” he said. “It’s through the hall and down a flight of stairs—”

“You’re going to make me a cuppa in the kitchen?” she said.

“You’d rather I brought it to you here on a tray, with the teapot in a knitted cozy, and a plate of ginger biscuits?” he said. She might have thought he was mocking her, except for the undeniable earnest uncertainty in his tone. It was a rare feeling, being the object of his affection and not his lust, and young as she was, she knew it, the way she knew he’d make the tea too weak, too eager to pour it out. He’d use a Sevres tea-set as casually as she’d handle the random crockery that came with the Priory.

“I’d be happier in the kitchen. And if there’s any shortbread, I like that better than ginger biscuits. Unless you have custard creams,” she said.

“You’ve got a sweet tooth,” he said.

“My mother doesn’t like to keep a lot of sweets in the house. She fusses about her figure,” Taggie said.

“I don’t know if there’s anything but the ginger biscuits. Those are my favorite and I don’t often have people round to tea,” he said, walking from the room, taking her hand in his very lightly, so that she might have pulled away without any real effort, a tentative gesture that was more erotic than if he’d palmed her ass. 

“Lizzie would come, wouldn’t she?” 

Rupert shrugged, which wasn’t much of an answer, but Taggie didn’t especially want to talk about Lizzie, how old a friend she was. She didn’t want to remind either of them how much older Rupert was, how young she must seem, naïve and inexperienced before you took into account how little she’d read and why.

They’d got to the kitchen, a brighter, sunnier space than the one at the Priory, altogether more orderly, as he must have staff in to cook and clean up, but the terrier settled down at once in a basket near the oak table’s end and she wondered just how much time Rupert spent here. He waved a hand for her to sit down, so she chose the chair closest to the Aga, the one it would be easiest to leave to help with the kettle.

Except it didn’t seem he actually needed any help. Taggie sat and watched him move around the kitchen, graceful even in the smallest ways, picking up a milk jug, setting a cup in its saucer, taking the lid off a canister that held loose tea. He had finely made hands, the whole of him elegantly put together, a recollection of him naked in the garden popping up unbidden, making her blush. He noticed, but he didn’t say anything. 

Was she the only person who knew how tender Rupert Campbell-Black could be?

If she was, did she want that to change?

“Milk, one sugar,” he said, putting down a steaming gilt-edged teacup in front of her. “I think you like honey better but I couldn’t find any. I’ll tell Cook to buy some.”

“You know how I like my tea,” she said, thinking it would be a question before she heard herself speak.

“I can pay attention when it’s warranted,” he said. 

“When it’s warranted?” she repeated, taking a sip of the tea. It was the perfect temperature, almost too hot to drink, and she could hardly remember the last time she’d had a cup of tea made so exactly to her taste, not a little too strong from being the end of the pot, a little too cool for waiting until everyone else had been served.

“When I care. You’re more like your father than I’d thought,” he said, frowning a little. It only made him more handsome. “You ask questions like a journalist.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she asked.

He laughed, a warm chuckle that she imagined only Lizzie had heard before. Maybe Cook, who bought him ginger biscuits and not custard creams.

“You’re adorable, Taggie O’Hara,” he said.

“That’s not the same as saying you adore me,” she pointed out, drinking more tea. When she put the cup back in the saucer, he took hold of her right hand, stroking his thumb across her palm.

“I don’t adore you, angel. That requires a pedestal for you to stand on and I’d much rather have you squash up next to me on the sofa,” he said.

“That sounds very domestic,” Taggie said. He’d like to have the dogs about, he hadn’t said it but he’d conjured them up with the slightly sagging sofa, the fire merry behind its screen, a half-drunk glass of Scotch on a marquetry table, the ice melting slowly into the golden liquor.

“It wouldn’t stay that way,” he said. He must have made a thousand passes at a thousand women or maybe a million, but it didn’t feel like one with his brown eyes watching her so attentively, appetite balanced by affection, the touch of his hand cherishing, not possessing.

“Good,” she replied. “D’you know what I’d like?”

Another woman, well-read, cultured, in a matching set of lace underwear, would have meant it as coquetry. That was beyond Taggie and she’d have to hope he wouldn’t be disappointed.

“What’s that, angel?” 

“Scones. Cook must keep the ingredients at hand. They don’t take long to make,” she said. She didn’t say they were her specialty, but perhaps he’d be able to tell.

“Would you teach me how?” Rupert asked.

“Yes, but why?” she said.

“So I might make the next batch for you,” he said.

[q-gorgeous]

Not the Lab

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 7184

No one knows au except dash baxter @xscarletsakurax

warning: dissection, scalpels, its not a very graphic description tho

hehehehhehehe

Danny opened the door and was met with a broad chest. His eyes raised and he met Dash’s gaze. He was leaning against the door frame and was staring down at Danny.

“What do you want, Dash?”

“I’m here for my tutoring session with your sister. Let me in.”

Danny blocked Dash’s step forward. “She’s not even home.”

“Oh.” Dash looked away. “I guess I got the day wrong. Again.”

“Yeah.” Danny stared at him. 

Dash looked back up at Danny. “Do you care if I still come in and just work on my homework? Jazz is great at answering my questions when I don’t understand something but she’s also mostly there to redirect me when I lose focus. This place has good learning energy.” Dash gestured with his hands in a big circle.

Danny watched him for a few moments before sighing. “Fine. But if you start messing with anything in here you have to leave.”

Dash nodded. “I’ll just be in the kitchen like when I’m with Jazz.” He walked in and turned back to look at Danny before he walked into the kitchen. “Did you want to work on your homework with me too?”

Danny shrugged and followed behind him. “Might as well. I gotta keep an eye on you if you’re here. Let me just go get my backpack.”

He headed up the stairs and left Dash to walk into the kitchen by himself. He set himself up at his regular spot at the table and started pulling all of his materials out. When he was done he looked up and saw the door to the Fenton’s lab that stared at him every time he was here. 

Just as he was thinking about standing up, Danny walked back into the room with his backpack. 

“What are you starting with?” Danny asked as he rummaged inside his open backpack.

“Math.” Dash replied. “It’s my worst subject so I’d rather get that done first where the learning vibes are good.”

“I guess I’ll start with that too. Then we can ask each other questions if we need to.”

Dash nodded. “That makes sense.”

They sat there for an hour doing their homework and occasionally asking each other about one of the questions in their textbook. They finally finished the assignment and Dash slouched down and leaned his head over the back of the chair. 

“I hate math.”

“Me too.”

They sat in silence for a few more moments before Dash spoke again.

“Want to take a break?” 

He brought his head back up to see Danny staring at him. Danny’s cheeks flushed a little and he snorted. “What would we even do?”

Dash looked over Fenton’s shoulder at the lab again. 

“We could go take a look in your parent’s lab.”

“No!” Danny shouted. 

“Why not?” Dash leaned forward in his seat. “Are they secretly mad scientists experimenting on people down there?”

Danny leveled a stare at him. “No. Other people just aren’t allowed in there. It’s family only.”

Dash leaned back in his seat again and tapped his fingers against his arm. There was no way he’d be able to weasel his way in with that argument.

“What if I invited you to my next party? Would that be enough to let me go downstairs?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Go to one party? Or not get grounded by my parents? That’s not a difficult decision.”

Dash squinted at Danny and stood up. He started making his way around the table and Danny stood up blocking Dash’s path. 

“You haven’t been able to take me in years.”

“I’ve been taking your shit everyday.”

Dash groaned.

“C’mon, Fentina! Just let me take a peek down in that so-called lab! I just want one little look.”

Danny placed himself between the basement door and Dash. “No. My parents would kill me if I let you down there.”

“What’s the fuss, anyways? You’ve said yourself that none of your parents' inventions even work because ghosts aren’t real. What’s the harm in just one little peek?” Dash bent down to look Danny in the eye. 

“Just because ghosts aren’t real doesn’t mean my parents don’t work with hazardous chemicals. I don’t want you touching something that could burn your skin off or, I don’t know, seal all the orifices in your body closed.” Danny crossed his arms. 

Dash snorted. “Yeah, like they have something like that.”

He tried to go around Danny but he moved so he was still in front of Dash and poked a finger into his chest.

“We’re not going down there.”

Dash grabbed the wrist on the hand that was pointing at him. 

“Don’t you want us to think you’re cool? I wanna see your parents' cool lab. We could even see if we could fix that new invention of theirs. It would make them super happy.”

Danny stared at him for a few moments, studying his face. “If they couldn’t get it to work properly, I don’t see how we’d be able to do it.”

“So does that mean you want to try?” Dash asked with a smile on his face. 

“If it means my parents will be happy afterwards, we can try.”

Finally, Danny turned around and opened the door. 

Dash could tell it was a heavy door. It was made of metal and creaked when it was pushed open. A cold waft of air gusted past them and Dash stared down the stairs over Danny’s shoulder. He flicked a lightswitch and the lights over the stairs flickered on. 

Danny started walking down the stairs and Dash was still for a moment before following behind him. 

“So what’s this new invention of theirs? Some kind of portal?” Dash asked as he studied the metal paneling on the wall.

“Yeah.” Danny responded over his shoulder. “It was supposed to be some kind of ghost portal but when they plugged it in it never turned on. They were really disappointed about it.”

“Do they really believe ghosts are real?” 

Danny shrugged. “They’ve got all these studies and measurements. I have no idea how they’ve gotten all this information but they believe ghosts are the cause of all of it.” 

They stepped down off the bottom step onto the clean, tiled floor. Dash looked around the basement, taking in all the science equipment they had laying around down there. It was very messy, which heavily contrasted what the rest of the house looked like. He figured the Fenton’s would be more neat than this, especially concerning the hazardous materials Danny was talking about before. He can see why Danny was worried about that. There were green splatters everywhere. On every counter and on the table in the center of the room and he even saw it on the door as Danny pushed it closed. 

“Why’s it so messy down here?” Dash asked as he walked further into the lab.

Danny walked over and stood next to him. “One of my chores is to clean the lab and I haven’t had time for it lately.”

Dash shot Danny a look. “Your parents make you clean up their lab?”

Danny shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Why are they making you clean up hazardous material? That was an excuse you gave me for why I shouldn’t come down here.”

Danny waved him off. “It doesn’t matter. Besides, I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so.” Dash went to go look at the mess of items on one of the counters. The green splatters were so vivid. They almost looked like they were glowing. Dash turned and caught a glimpse of what he assumed was the Fenton’s new invention.

“Hey.” Dash nodded his head at the hole in the wall. “What’s that?”

“That’s my parent’s attempt at building a working ghost portal. They don’t know what’s wrong with it.” Danny walked right up to the portal and peered inside. “They said they had an earlier version of this that worked a little better so they thought they had this one right. They’re not sure why it didn’t work.”

“Maybe we can figure it out.” Dash said. “Maybe they overlooked some small detail.” 

“Maybe.” Danny turned back around and walked to the opposite side of the room. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a jumpsuit that looked similar to what his parents always wore. 

“You have matching outfits with your parents?” Dash snickered.

Danny unzipped the zipper. “They’re supposed to help prevent ecto-contamination.”

“Ecto-contamination?”

“Yeah. It comes from ectoplasm.” Danny stuck his legs into the suit. “That’s what ghosts are made out of and produce. That’s what my parents use for their studies.”

“How do they get their ectoplasm?” Dash asked, studying the green splatters again.

Danny shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think they’ve said there’s just more than average residual ectoplasm in Amity Park or something.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Yeah.”

Danny turned around and Dash held in a snort.

“Ha! What is that?” Dash laughed and pointed at Danny’s chest.

Danny looked down and groaned. He pulled his dad’s face off of his jumpsuit and threw it in the garbage. “Embarrassing.”

Danny walked up to the portal and stood just outside it, staring.

“What do you think is wrong with it?” Dash asked.

“I have no idea.” Danny replied. “I’m hoping it’ll be something fairly obvious though. If it’s too complicated I won’t be able to do much.”

He started walking inside and he looked all around the portal. Dash wasn’t sure what he was looking for, and he was sure Danny didn’t know either. The further in he walked, the darker he got. 

But then everything went wrong.

Dash watched as Danny tripped over something in the portal, and then he heard a soft click. Suddenly the inside of the portal was lighting up and Dash felt his heart fall to his stomach. 

This wasn’t good.

The humming got louder and louder and Dash started running forward.

“Danny!”

A moment later a green light so bright it looked white filled the room and Dash staggered back, shielding his eyes. Danny’s screams filled the room. They were so harrowing and pain filled and it had Dash covering his ears closed instead of covering his eyes. 

He didn’t know how long it lasted for, if it was moments or minutes, but when Dash finally heard something hit the ground, he risked peeking his eyes open. 

When he saw that the bright light was dying down, he opened his eyes the rest of the way and saw Danny laying on the floor in front of him. He looked strange though. 

His hair was now snow white and his jumpsuit had been inverted and was now mostly black. Danny looked like he had burns from the portal but somehow they seemed to be healing themselves back up, even the suit. Danny even looked like he was glowing.

Once the green light disappeared into a swirling vortex, Dash ran forward and dragged Danny away from it. Once he deemed them far enough away, he knelt on the ground and pulled Danny into his lap, his back resting against Dash’s legs.

“Danny.” He shook him. His white hair ruffled back and forth from the movement. “Danny. Wake up. Please.” 

After the last shake, Danny’s eyebrows furrowed and he groaned. He raised a hand to his forehead and pried his eyes open. He looked around for a few moments before his gaze drifted up to Dash.

“Oh, thank god.” Dash whispered. “I thought you were- I don’t even know if you really are- You look so-” Dash cut himself off as he choked up. 

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“You went into the portal in that hazmat suit. You tripped over something and fell into the wall and there must’ve been a button on it or something because everything started glowing this scary green color and then you were screaming. You were screaming so loud.”

Danny rubbed a spot on his hand, a vacant stare in his eyes. 

“Danny, are you okay? You look so different. What if you’re-”

Suddenly a bright ring appeared around Danny’s waist. They both jumped and watched as it split and traveled over his body. Dash thought he would’ve felt something, but it was like the ring wasn’t even touching him even with Danny’s proximity to him. 

When the ring passed over his head and disappeared Danny was left just how he had walked into the portal. 

“You’re-” Dashed started. “You’re back to normal.”

“What happened to me?” Danny whispered, still rubbing the spot on his hand. 

Dash’s heart rate picked up. His chest started rising and falling faster and the room spun a little.

“We have to go get your parents! We don’t even know what this thing did to you. They would-”

Danny sat up and turned. He covered Dash’s mouth with his hand. “We are not telling my parents. We’re not even supposed to be down here.”

He looked at Dash with wide, shaken looking eyes. “My parents would have killed me if they knew I brought you down here. But I don’t know what they’d do to me if they found out what their portal turned me into.”

Dash’s eyes widened and Danny slowly removed his hand from his mouth. 

“I killed you.” He whispered. 

Danny shook his. “Don’t say that.” He whispered back. “I’m not dead. I’m right here.”

Dash ran a hand through his hair. “You died! You stepped out of the portal all glowy and different colors! Then you magical girl transformed!”

“I died but I don’t think I’m dead.” Danny said. “I can still feel my heart beating.”

Dash stopped and looked back up at him. “Really?”

Danny nodded.

“Can I…?” Dash reached a hand out.

Danny nodded again. “It’ll probably help convince you I’m not actually still dead.”

Dash pressed his fingers against Danny’s neck and waited. Then he could feel the soft beats of his heart. He held his hand there for a few more moments before he lowered it.

“What even happened to you?” He whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“What do we do?” Dash asked.

Danny shook his head. “We can’t tell anyone. People would think I’m some sort of freak. And I don’t know what my parents would do.” He looked up at Dash. “This has to stay between us.”

Dash nodded. Who would they tell anyways? No one besides the Fenton’s could really help them. There was no one to turn to. 

Danny groaned. “Help me up.” 

Dash stood and grabbed Danny by the hands and pulled him up. Dash was about to let go when suddenly Danny started sinking through the floor. 

“What the fuck?” Danny shouted panickingly as his feet disappeared into the tiles below them.

Dash kept a tight grip on Danny’s hands. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he let go and Danny disappeared. He pulled Danny up and out of the ground and when Dash set him back down, Danny’s feet were once again solid. 

“Never seen that before.” Dash whispered.

Danny just stared at him. “Thanks Sherlock, me either.”

“How do we stop that from happening?” Dash asked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe-”

A beeping rang throughout the lab and Dash looked around in a panic. Was something about to blow up? Danny wasn’t nearly concerned enough for that. He did look a bit panicked though.

The beeping died down and Dash looked around him again. “What was that?”

“The ‘someone’s in the driveway alert.’ My parents are home.”

Anxiety spiked in Dash’s stomach and he turned to face the stairs. “Why do they-”

“It doesn’t matter. They can’t find us down here.”

Dash grabbed Danny’s hand and pulled him up the stairs. 

They were at the top of the steps when they heard the rattling of the front door knob through the door to the lab. Dash ran up the rest of the way as he pulled Danny behind him. Together they pushed the heavy door closed. They rushed back to their seats and sat down just in time for Danny’s parents to walk in. 

“Hi, Danny!” Maddie called. “How are you- Oh.”

Maddie paused as she walked into the kitchen, gaze landing on Dash. She looked between the two of them and smiled.

“Dash! It’s nice to see you again. I’m glad to see you two hanging out again after all this time.”

Danny’s gaze landed on Dash. “We’re not friends, Mom. He thought his tutoring session with Jazz was today and asked if he could stay and do homework here. He said the house has ‘good learning vibes.’”

“Oh.” Maddie’s smile fell a little and Dash wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Well, I hope you two still had a good time.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “It’s just homework.”

“Nevertheless, if you two ever need to-”

“Danny-boy!” Jack bellowed as he walked into the kitchen, carrying three cartons of fudge. “They stocked up on your favorite peanut butter fudge!” He thrust them into Danny’s hands.

“Are all three of these one flavor?” Danny asked, flabbergasted. 

“You betcha.” He turned towards the basement door. “Your mother and I are going to start running diagnostics on the portal and try to figure out why it didn’t turn on.”

He opened the door and started walking down the stairs. 

“Wish us luck!” Maddie called to them before she followed behind him and closed the door. 

Dash stared at it for a moment. “How do you think they’d feel if they knew they just hadn’t actually turned it on.” 

“I’m sure it’s just a new addition on a long list of oversights.” Danny said. He stood up from the table and staggered, holding his head.

“Are you okay?” Dash asked. 

“I’ve got a killer headache. And my head feels like it’s spinning.”

“Will you be-”

Danny shook his head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. You should go before my parents pull us back down into the lab to show us that the ghost portal miraculously started working.”

Danny’s screams rang in his head again. He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to step foot down in that lab again.

“Yeah. I should be heading home anyways.”

Dash packed up his backpack and slung it onto his shoulder. Danny walked him to the door and opened it.

“See you tomorrow?” Dash asked.

“Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.” Danny replied and closed it behind him once he walked out. 

Dash stared at the door for a moment before he turned around and walked down the stairs to the sidewalk. 

He took a deep breath and gripped his shaking hands onto his backpack straps. 

Danny died today. Danny died and they didn’t have any answers. Danny died and it was Dash’s fault for insisting they go into the basement. How could he ever face him again? 

The walk from Danny’s house to Dash’s felt way too short. Almost as if he blinked and suddenly he was home. 

Maybe if he went to sleep he’d wake up and find out this was all a bad dream. Maybe he could pretend that none of this actually happened. 

He quietly unlocked and opened his front door, closing it behind him. He quietly made his way up the stairs to his room and dropped his backpack on the floor before collapsing into bed. 

He hoped none of this would be real when he woke up. 

~~~~~~~~

Dash wanted to go back to bed.

Dash wasn’t sure he had even wanted to go to school today. His stomach was still roiling and he didn’t want to find out if Danny had actually died yesterday. Maybe he had just imagined the whole thing. Maybe Danny had actually died and was still lying fried on his basement floor right now. Maybe he survived the initial accident but died later that night. 

He stood on the sidewalk staring at the school as it towered in front of him. He was already here. He had to go in. 

He took a deep breath and was about to start walking when he saw a mop of black hair walking ahead of him. 

Danny yawned a big yawn and he looked tired but he was alive. 

“Danny!” Dash shouted, waving a hand in the air. Danny turned around to look at him. He looked around them as Dash walked up to him. 

“What do you want, Dash?”

Dash stopped short. “I came to see how you were doing. Glad to see you surviving was real.”

“Oh.” Danny shuffled awkwardly on his feet. “Yeah. Still alive. I think I ended up sinking through my bed into the living room last night, though. I woke up at like four in the morning on the living room floor.”

“Oh dang.”

“Yeah.” Danny said as he started walking toward the school. Dash followed after him. “The worst part though was when I tried lifting my arm up in front of my face and I couldn’t see it because somehow my body had turned itself invisible.” 

“I’m still wondering just what exactly that portal did to you.” Dash said, lowering his head and his voice closer to Danny. “Like, do you just have ghost powers now or something?”

Danny frowned. “I’m sure it’s more than that. But basically.” 

“Man, that’d be so cool.” Dash said. “If I had ghost powers, I’d-”

Dash was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. They turned around and were met with Sam and Tucker looking at them.

“What’s going on here?” Sam asked, pointing between the two of them.

“What?” Danny asked, his voice rising in pitch. “There’s nothing going on here. We’re just two guys chatting.” 

Sam and Tucker shared a look and smirked at Danny.

“No! Not like that!” A blush rose on Danny’s cheeks and Dash looked between Danny and his friends a couple times before he processed what Danny meant. A blush rose to his own cheeks. 

“Well, what’s happening then?” Tucker asked. “Did you guys finally make up?”

Sam looked at him. “Make up?”

Tucker nodded. “Yeah. They used to be friends when we were kids. They had some fight when we were younger. I never really knew what it was about.” 

Dash looked at Danny to see him already staring at him. Danny studied him for a few moments before speaking. “Yeah, I guess you can say we finally made up.” 

“Cool.” Tucker said casually. 

“Cool? That’s it? No questions?” Sam asked him. “You’re not curious at all how they figured this thing out after years of conflict?” 

Tucker shrugged. “If they want to tell us they will.” 

Sam crossed her arms and huffed. “I guess you’re right.” 

They started walking towards the school and Dash and Danny followed behind them.

“Did you want to tell them?” Dash whispered.

Danny looked at him and then looked back at Sam and Tucker. “I… I don’t know. I don’t want them to think I’m weird or a freak.” 

“Okay. We can keep it between us for now.” Dash nodded. 

Danny gave one curt nod and then quickened his pace to catch up with Sam and Tucker. 

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

“Phantom is so cool.” Sam said as she finished swallowing a bite of her food. 

Danny spit out his drink and looked up at her. Dash sent him a look. “He is?” 

“Yeah. I mean, some vigilante ghost kid fighting to protect us even though no one trusts him? I’d say that’s pretty cool.”

“Do you trust him?” Danny asked, looking between Sam and Tucker.

Tucker shrugged. “He hasn’t really given us a reason not to trust him.” He placed a hand on his chin and started thinking about it. “Except for maybe that time he ruined Valerie’s life. Or when he kidnapped the mayor. He also stole all that stuff one time. Or-” 

Sam elbowed Tucker. “People have off days! I don’t think he did any of that stuff on purpose. Remember he broke out of that spell that Freakshow put him under? He saved me because he was able to break out of it.” 

“Also it was the dog that ruined Valerie’s life.” Dash corrected. “Not Phantom himself.” 

“Yeah!” Sam gestured at Dash. “All the ghosts seem to have it out for Phantom for some reason. How do we know it’s not just all orchestrated?”

“Is the property damage orchestrated?” Tucker asked her. 

“Haha.” Sam took another bite of her food. “But I’m serious. He just… He’s just a kid. Doing this all by himself. It’s messed up.” 

Tucker nodded. “He seems so familiar too. It makes me wonder if we knew him before he died.” 

Dash watched as Danny looked between the two of them, stunned. He opened his mouth.

“Guys, I have something to tell-” 

Danny was interrupted by something crashing outside. It sent the windows shattering and screams erupted around the cafeteria as everyone ducked down to cover their heads and faces. 

“What happened?” Sam looked out the windows, her breathing quick. A screech echoed around the schoolyard. 

Danny gasped out his ghost sense and Dash followed his gaze to where it stood. 

“There’s a ghost.” Dash pointed to it. 

It was digging around in the dirt like it was looking for something. Dash couldn’t tell what animal it was supposed to be. It was boney and skeletal, its hips jutting out from its body. 

Danny stood up and ran across the cafeteria, pushing open the door along the wall with the windows.

“Danny!” Sam and Tucker shouted as they stood up together. 

They went to run after Danny but Dash grabbed Sam’s wrist before she could go anywhere.

“What are you doing?” She asked him hysterically. “We have to go get him! He can’t just be running around outside like that while there’s a ghost attacking!”

“Yeah, dude. Are you mental?” Tucker asked Dash.

“Danny-”

“Needs our help!” Sam tore her wrist out of Dash’s hand and they ran across the room to the door. Dash shifted in his place, jittery. He finally followed after them. 

When he got outside they were already across the grass, but instead of looking for Danny they were looking up in the air at the fight. 

“Foley! Manson! Get over here!” Dash shouted at them from the building. “You’re not even looking for Danny! You need to-” 

The screech of tires signaled the Fenton’s arrival. They jumped out of their van and brandished their weapons. 

“You take that side, Jack! I’ll stay here!” 

“Aye, aye!” Jack ran away from her to the other side of the schoolyard. 

“Sam, Tucker! Get-”

The ghost looked up at Dash’s voice but its gaze landed on Sam and Tucker first. It hissed at them, the sound grating. It started charging at them and they both took a step back but it was moving too fast.

“No!” Danny shouted, flying towards them. 

He got to them just in time to grab them both and knock them out of the way. They tumbled across the ground and Dash could hear Sam and Tucker screaming from where he stood. Danny pulled himself back up and stood between them and the ghost. His fists clenched.

“You’re not getting through me, ghost!” 

Danny jumped back into the fight and it took only a couple more hits fueled by his rage before the fight was over and he caught it in his thermos. 

He turned to look at Sam and Tucker and he flew forward a couple steps before he was being shot square in the back. He hissed and looked behind him to see his mom still aiming her weapon at him.

“Wait!” Sam ran forward and put herself between Danny and Mrs. Fenton. 

“Sam!” Maddie shouted at her. “Get out of the way! We need to capture him!” 

“No, he just-”

“Jack, do you have a shot?” Maddie called, looking in his direction.

“No! The kids are in the way!” 

Maddie snarled. Dash watched Danny recoil. “If you don’t move-”

Danny started flying away. Maddie aimed her gun at him again but he turned invisible before she could take another shot. She shouted into the empty air and threw her gun down. She glared at Sam and Tucker. 

Maddie walked up to them. “Are you aiding the ghost kid?”

They looked between each other, shock on their faces. “No.” Sam said. “The ghost was going to attack us. Phantom was just trying-” 

“To win you over.” Maddie hissed out. “He’s nothing but a manipulator and an evil ghost. He doesn’t really care about whether or not you get hurt. He’s just doing it to fulfill his own needs.”

Sam took a step back at Maddie’s words. Tucker grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. Dash could tell that her words upset them. Unsettled them. He’d never seen Mrs. Fenton talk to someone like that before. Let alone Danny’s friends. 

Danny walked up behind him, his arm brushing against Dash’s. 

“We can’t tell them.”

Dash looked at Danny sharply. “What? I thought you were going to-” 

He shook his head. “It would be nice for them to know, but would it just put them in danger? All I did was push them out of the way of that attack and my mom’s accusing them of aiding and abetting me.” 

Dash looked back up at where Maddie was stomping away from Sam and Tucker. Their shocked expressions turned to look at Danny and Dash. 

“What would she do if they knew and they were really helping me?” Danny whispered. 

Dash shook his head. “I.. I don’t know.”

Danny turned his head to look up at Dash. “We can’t tell them.” 

“Okay. We won’t tell them.” 

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

“Get back here, ghost scum!” 

Dash ran behind Danny’s parents as they chased him through the air. Of all the things to be giving them the most grief these days, it was Danny’s parents. 

Let’s tear him apart molecule by molecule.

We have to have some remains to examine. 

I wonder what his insides look like. 

Let’s tear him up and find out.

They were relentlessly hunting Danny every time another ghost attacked. They didn’t even bother with the other ghosts anymore either. They only had their sights set on Phantom. That was all they cared about.

He heard Maddie’s weapon go off again and Dash turned down an alley. He had to somehow get to their rendezvous point before them so that Danny could transform and they could get his parents off his trail. 

As he came out of the alley, he saw that Danny had turned around in the air. Dash waved up at him and when Danny caught sight of him Dash ran into the next alley. Dash had his back pressed up against the wall and hid on the other side of some garbage cans when Danny flew into the alley and came to stand next to Dash. 

Dash pulled Danny behind him and turned so he was blocking him from being seen from the entrance. 

“How close were they?” He whispered.

“Too close.” Danny breathed out heavily, calling on his transformation rings. “They-”

His parents ran around the corner of the alley right as Danny’s transformation finished passing. He had a panicked look on his face. Reaching up, he grabbed Dash’s cheeks and pulled his face down. 

Dash’s eyes widened.

“Freeze, ghost scum!” 

Understanding dawned on Dash and he wrapped an arm around Danny’s waist and deepened the kiss. Danny carded a few fingers through his hair and then jumped and pulled away, faking surprise as he looked over Dash’s shoulder. 

“Danny?” His mom called over in surprise. “Is that Dash?”

Dash tried to turn around sheepishly. “H-hey, Mrs. Fenton.” His voice shook and he hoped she couldn’t pick up on the fear that laced through it. 

Jack sniffled. “Maddie, our little boy is turning into a man. I think it’s time we gave him the talk.”

“No!” Danny lifted both hands from Dash and waved them vigorously over Dash’s shoulders. “No talk! I do not want to suffer through that.” 

“I didn’t know you two were-” Maddie scratched her chin. “When did you two start dating?”

They looked at each other.

“Today-”

“The beginning of September-”

Danny frowned at Dash and he chuckled. 

“Haha, yeah, the beginning of September.” 

Danny facepalmed. Maddie’s eyes opened wide.

“You’ve been dating that long already? Why didn’t the two of you say anything?” She gasped and held a hand up to her mouth. “Did you not feel safe talking to us about it? I’m so sorry, if we ever did anything to make you feel unsafe-”

“No, mom. It’s- it’s not that.” Danny stammered. “I’m just not ready to talk about it yet.” 

Dash looked between Danny and his parents. And the weapons that they were still holding in their hands. Maddie smiled at them. 

“That’s okay. We’ll be here when you’re ready.” She lifted her gun to brandish it in both hands again. “Did you two see where that ghost went off to? We were hot on his trail just a minute ago.” 

Danny shook his head. “No, sorry. We were, uh, busy.”

“Drat.” Jack snapped his fingers. “He got away again.”

“It’s okay, Jack. We’ll get him one of these days.” Maddie placed a hand on his arm. She turned her head to look back at Danny. “Be sure to be home for dinner. Bring Dash with you if he would like to join us.” 

They walked back out of the alley. Danny leaned his head forward and rested it on Dash’s chest, letting out a deep breath. 

“That was too close.” 

They sat there like that for a little bit. Dash’s hand was still on Danny’s waist. He started rubbing small circles there with his thumb. Danny took another deep breath and pulled away. Dash wilted at the loss of contact. 

“Let’s get back to the house.” Danny said quietly. “Unless you want to go home?”

Dash shook his head. “I’ll come back with you. Stay for dinner.” 

Danny nodded, relieved. Dash reached a hand up and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. 

“Let’s go home.” 

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

“So, Pariah.” 

“Yup.”

Danny was slumped in his seat at the kitchen table. His head hung over the back of it and he just stared up at the ceiling. 

“Almost died.”

“Yeah.” 

Dash played with his pencil that was sitting on the table next to his homework. “At least the ghosts seem to have more respect for you now. You put their terrifying king back into his coffin again.” 

Danny nodded. 

Dash frowned at him. “Are you okay, Danny?” 

Danny looked at him. “Yeah. I just- It’s a lot to process. Like, why did Vlad give Valerie her weapons? Why is he looking for all these artifacts? What is he planning? Why save me? He could’ve just left me there and I wouldn’t be in his hair anymore. He’d be able to kill my dad all he wanted.” 

He looked back up at the ceiling. “What does me defeating the king of the ghost zone really mean?”

Dash opened his mouth to respond but realized he didn’t have any input for that. He closed it again and reached a hand over to Danny but jumped, pulling it away when the basement door opened. 

“Hey, boys! How are you?” Maddie asked as she came up the stairs from the lab.

“We’re good, Mom. How’s the work going?” Danny looked up at her. 

“We’re making a lot of progress on our newest invention!” She walked over to the sink and grabbed a glass and started filling it with water. “We’ll surely get Phantom with this one! It neutralizes a ghost’s powers so it can no longer use them!” 

Dash tensed up and he turned his head to look at Danny. Danny’s eyes were wide as he stared at his mom. “Yeah? Wow.”

Maddie nodded. “We’ve got to get him somehow. I think this one will give us a fighting chance. We’re looking to get a more humanoid ghost to examine for our studies and see what makes them different from blob ghosts.” 

“What will you do when you get him?” Dash asked with a little shake to his voice. Maddie smiled at him. 

“We’re going to cut him open and see if there’s anything to examine inside him. We’re really curious about his core. A blob ghost’s core isn’t strong enough to sustain itself if it’s even slightly damaged, but Phantom’s would no doubt be much stronger. We could head down to the lab and take a look at-” 

 Dash suddenly stood up from the table, his heart racing at the mention of the lab.

“I have to get going. Curfew, you know?” Dash pointed over his shoulder and then tapped his wrist.

“It’s like five pm.” Danny deadpanned. 

Maddie frowned. “That’s too bad. Don’t be afraid to come over more often. We don’t bite. We could even give you a tour of the lab!” 

“Haha, that’s okay. I’ve been warned about all the hazards and wastes that are down there. I’m good hearing about it from up here.”

Maddie shrugged. “Suit yourself. But the offer still stands if you ever want to take us up on it one day.” She grabbed her glass of water and walked to the lab door. “Back to it!” 

She pulled the door closed behind her and after a minute Danny’s gaze shifted to Dash.

“Curfew?”

“I don’t know!” Dash groaned and covered his face. “It was the first thing I thought of.”

“Knowing your dad, my mom probably believed that he would move up your curfew to some insane time.” 

Dash shook his head and closed his eyes. He just… Couldn’t go down there. Even the thought of it brought Danny’s screams back into his mind. 

He felt a hand on his arm and opened his eyes. Danny was looking at him. 

“You don’t have to go in the lab if you don’t want to. Ever. Even if they’re begging on their hands and knees.”

Dash smiled and patted Danny’s hand. “Thanks. I do think I’m going to head out for the night though. Call me if any ghost stuff happens?”

Danny nodded and stood up to walk Dash to the door. “You know I always do.” 

He waved at Danny over his shoulder. 

“See you tomorrow.”

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

Dash hadn’t heard from Danny for two days. Before, that wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary. But ever since the accident with the portal Dash usually got at least one update from Danny on the whole ghost thing a day. 

He was on his way to Fentonworks now. He just… had a bad feeling. He couldn’t describe it. He knew that if he went to check on Danny and didn’t find him, that he could panic a little more reasonably. 

He walked up the steps to the Fenton’s front door. He went to knock, but when his fist made contact the first time the door opened slightly. Dash frowned.

Why would they just leave the front door open like that? Were they even home? 

Dash pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked inside. 

“Danny?” He called into the house. No one responded. 

He pushed the door closed behind him and headed towards the stairs. Hopefully Danny would just be sick in his room. He really hoped that was where he’d be. 

It was eerily quiet as he walked up the stairs. Fentonworks was always full of life and people any time Dash had been there before. It unnerved him how calm it was. 

Dash made his way to Danny’s door. He paused outside it for a moment before he raised his fist to knock.

He waited a second, two, three, but there was no response. 

“Danny? I’m coming in.” 

He opened the door and swung it open. His heart dropped when he saw that the room was empty. Danny wasn’t here.

He turned back around without closing the door. He walked down the hallway to Jazz’s room and banged on the door, more panicked now. 

Jazz must not have been home either because he waited and didn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. He turned around and headed back towards the stairs, pulling his phone out.

He didn’t think he had a choice. He had to tell Sam and Tucker. Maybe they knew something. Maybe Danny told them where he was. He’d start with that, if they’ve heard from Danny at all the past couple days. Then if he had to he’d tell them about Danny being a half ghost. Maybe they would be able to help.

He heard a noise. 

Dash’s head whipped towards the kitchen. He slowly walked into the room and turned his head.

Dash saw the open door to the lab. There was a light flickering down there and dread crawled up his throat. 

He never wanted to step foot in that lab again.

Dash gulped. 

He had to do this. He could go down there again. He had to see if Danny was down there. He had to find him. 

Dash walked through the kitchen and into the open doorway. He tiptoed his way down the stairs slowly. He could still turn around. He didn’t have to see what was happening down here. 

Dash took a deep breath and took the last step into the lab. 

Danny was there, surrounded by his parents. His insides exposed for Maddie to root around in. Dash felt nausea well up inside him. 

“What have you done?!” 

Jack and Maddie didn’t pay any mind to Dash’s outburst, but he could see Danny stir.

Danny locked eyes with Dash just as his parents touched the glowing orb that sat in his chest with a scalpel. 

An explosion erupted from it and Dash covered his face. It sent cracks up the walls and across the floor and the building was trembling. Everything was creaking and debris was raining down from the ceiling. 

Danny still lay on the table but his parents were on the floor. He couldn’t tell if they were still breathing or not, but right now he didn’t care.

He ran across the lab to where Danny lay on their dissection table. Danny’s insides were all laid bare to the air. How was Dash supposed to get him somewhere safe?

The house creaked above him and Dash decided that there was no choice. He’d just have to pick him up like this. 

Dash scooped Danny up into his arms. He was limp, but he was miraculously still breathing. He turned towards the stairs as the building gave another creak and they caved in. Panic spiked in Dash’s chest. What was he supposed to do? His only way out was blocked. How-

The green glow of the swirling portal caught his eye. He turned his head to look at it. He had no other choice. That was his only way out. 

Dash turned his body and started running towards the portal as the rest of the ceiling started collapsing. 

He clutched Danny to his chest and dove into the ghost portal. 

[chaoticpuff17]

Amygdala

Master list

Chapter 1 named oc x mafia yoongi

“Sir?” Minwhan asked hesitantly, seeing how perfectly still his boss was. 

“What did you just say?” Yoongi’s tone was low and each word articulated in a dangerously slow way, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a grim line that promised swift and terrible retribution should the answer to his question be less than agreeable. “What did you just say?” He repeated after a moment when Minhwan had failed to answer, each word practically spat from his mouth. 

“The woman, the foreigner, caught in the altercation, her name was Margot Brooks.” 

The poor man stumbled over his words unsure what this information had caused such a reaction from his boss. The only reason something so insignificant had been brought up to him in the first place was because the woman was foreign and no one wanted to deal with the hassle the police would make if she brought it to them. There wasn’t much the police would actually do, but they’d put on a show to save face, and that would be a hassle for everyone involved. 

“Was she injured?”

“A little- a little bruised, I think.” He replied, stumbling over his words still reeling from the unusual reaction, and the intensity with which his boss was looking at him. “But overall I don’t think she was harmed, maybe a little shaken.” 

“I’m going to Yongsan-gu.” His boss announced, abruptly standing from his desk and shrugging on his jacket. 

“Sir?” 

“Send me the address.” 

——-

“I’m fine.” Margot assured, trying to push away the elderly man who continued to fuss over her despite the fact that she was fine, a little bruised, but fine. “You really don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Of course I do.” Tae-il huffed, taking the tray of empty dishes away from her. “And you worked all day! You don’t need to come help an old man.” 

“Someone needs to help until Maria is released from the hospital.” She reminded him gently, as she took the tray back, carrying it to the kitchen. “Besides, I like helping. It makes me feel useful.” She flashed him a grin, disappearing into the kitchen and ignoring the way her hip ached from the bruise that was firmly settled there. It was a lovely souvenir from when she had been shoved into a table the night before.

The way that Tae-il’s brow scrunched up in concern didn’t escape her. She was well aware of how much the old man loved his wife, and she was also aware of how heavily the medical expenses weighed on his mind. She suspected that they had to do with their visit from what she could only describe as a couple of thugs the night before. 

Three men had unceremoniously barged their way into the little noodle shop the night before, overturning tables, pushing her into one when she tried to stop them, and demanding their payment from Tae-il. Unfortunately, the old man had nothing to give them, and they had left with promises to return and threats about what would happen if he didn’t have their money the next time they did. 

She’d tried to ask about it. She really had, but Tae-il refused to talk about it. She suspected it was because he was too ashamed about what had happened, but this was the kind of problem that she didn’t think would go away on its own. Her thoughts weren’t really the ones that mattered here though. What mattered was what Tae-il was willing to do, and so far he was unwilling to talk about what had happened or to contact the authorities. The most that she could do was help put things back in order and help around the restaurant as much as she could even if Tae-il was insistent she didn’t need to. 

Margot had known Tae-il and Maria for years. They were old friends from her college days when she had been studying abroad. The older couple had no children of their own, and with Maria being an expat herself, they were very sympathetic and more than willing to take in a nervous college student struggling to survive in a new place on her own. They had become her self-proclaimed guardians, and when she’d returned to Korea to teach, they had insisted that she come stay with them instead of getting housing through the school as she had planned to do. 

She had just started sweeping the floors when the bell over the door sounded, informing her that a new customer had entered the space. 

She raised her head and began to sound off a polite greeting, but the words died in her throat as she saw who was walking in.

There were two men who looked quite similar to the ones who had caused so much chaos the night before and behind them entered a man dressed impeccably in a suit. This she had to assume was someone with more authority in the nonsense that Tae-il had gotten them mixed up in. 

“Yah!” She shouted, gripping the handle of the broom firmly. “We already told you we don’t have your money.” 

“Ma’am.” The two men bowed politely, making way for their boss who was staring at her with an expression that was completely indiscernible to them and that Margot simply wasn’t paying attention to as she brandished the broom in front of her almost like a weapon.

“Out!” she ordered, sweeping the broom and the subsequent dust from the floor towards them. 

“Margot?” The man in the suit spoke her name, calling her attention to him. The way he said it was odd though. It held something halfway between wild hope and disbelief.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She asked sharply. “Out!” 

“Margot.”  

He stepped forward, taking in the sight of her. The years had changed her. Of course they had. He couldn't expect her to be unchanged in all this time, but it was still her. 

Her hair was a little darker. It wasn’t as long anymore, but her eyes were the same. They were the same honeyed brown they had been then, still hidden behind a pair of glasses. They were different glasses now, but they still slipped down her nose in the way they did then. 

She eyed him warily, broom still held in front of her as if she were going to whack him with it at any given moment, but the gears were working in her head as he got closer. She was taking him in, examining him just as he had examined her, and he let her, watching with predatory grace as she put the pieces together.

“Yoongi?” she asked after a moment, recognition softening her features into surprise and disbelief instead of the open hostility she had been showing. “Min Yoongi?” 

“Margot.” his face lit up in a gummy grin as she let the broom fall, her hands going to cover her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. 

“Oh my god!” 

All at once she threw herself at him, knocking them both back as he fought for a moment to keep his balance, arms locked around her as he kept them both steady. 

“I can’t believe it’s you!” she cried, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His hold was no less tight as he kept her pressed to him, relishing the feel of her in his arms. 

How many years had it been? Six? Seven? It had been far too long, but she was here now. She was here in his arms, and that was what mattered. 

She pulled back, eyes scanning his features as she fired off a rapid series of questions. “Oh my god! How long has it been? How have you been? What have you been up to these days? You look great!” 

“One question at a time.” he chuckled in the face of her enthusiasm, holding her a little tighter and prompting her to return the hug once more.

“I missed you.” she breathed out, face pressed into the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

“I missed you too.” he admitted softly.

They stayed like that for a minute, both of them basking in the reunion until she let go.

“Come! Sit! Tell me all about life!” 

She pushed him towards a table, the men he entered with completely forgotten in her excitement to see her old friend again.

Yoongi obediently sat down, watching with amusement as she darted into the kitchen.

“Have you eaten?” she called over her shoulder, already grabbing something for them both to drink. “Uncle makes the best jajangmyeon. You remember Uncle Tae-il right?” She asked, emerging with two bowls of noodles on a try and a carafe of water with two glasses.  

“I can’t believe this place is still here.” he admitted, smiling politely at the old man who was eyeing him warily from the kitchen, more worried for Margot than he was for his restaurant. 

They shared a look, and Yoongi understood then that Jung Tae-il was not his ally in this matter at all. The older man knew exactly what Yoongi did these days, and based on his sour expression, he didn’t want Yoongi anywhere near his business or Margot. 

“You always did make the best noodles, ahjussi.” he called with a dangerous grin, daring the other man to say anything as he enjoyed his reunion with Margot. 

“I know.” Margot sat down with a pleased smile. “I was so happy when I got back and Maria and Tae-il were still here. They were even kind enough to let me have the third floor apartment.” 

“How long have you been back?” he asked, picking up his chopsticks.

She thought for a moment, picking up her own chopsticks. “Around two years now?” She estimated. “Is that about right, Uncle?” 

Tae-il made a noncommittal noise from the kitchen, still keeping a wary eye on the interaction. 

Two years, Yoongi pondered. Two years and he hadn’t known she was here. Two years and she hadn’t reached out to him. She’d been within reach, and he hadn’t known.

“You should have reached out.” He scolded gently, and she blushed sheepishly.

“I would have,” she began hesitantly, “but we parted on such bad terms, and when I finally worked up the courage to do it, your number wasn’t in service anymore. I didn’t have any way to contact you.” 

He couldn’t fault her for that. His number had probably changed multiple times since they had parted, but it still burned him that she’d been here, within reach, for two years and he hadn’t even known. 

“Tae-il and Maria didn’t know how to reach you either. I think we all assumed you went home to Daegu after school finished.” 

But Tae-il clearly knew better, Yoongi thought to himself. The man had reached out to Yoongi’s organization for a loan that he couldn’t seem to pay back. If he had wanted, he could have told Margot that he was in the city. 

“What brought you back to Korea?” he asked after a minute, eyes fixed on her intently. 

“I came to work.” she shrugged. “I missed it here so I got a job teaching English. What about you? What have you been up to all these years? You really are looking great, Yoongi.” 

He smiled crookedly. “I’ve been doing this and that. I’ve got my own business these days.” 

“Really? Doing what?” 

“A couple different things.” he hedged, not wanting to give too much away. “But I want to hear more about you.” 

“Same old same old. I don’t think I’ve changed all that much.” 

Yoongi disagreed. She was the same, and yet he could tell that there were things about her that were different and not just about her appearance. Six years was a long time to be apart. 

“I’m teaching English at a local school, which is exhausting, but it’s good. I really enjoy the kids.” Her smile was a little more subdued now, but still bright. 

“What grades are you teaching?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he waited for her answer. He wanted to know everything that he’d missed in their time apart. 

“I’m teaching the little ones, six to ten year olds. You know?” 

“You always were good with kids.” He chuckled, shooting her another crooked grin. 

“They drive me batty, but I love them.” 

They continued in this way for a while, asking questions and sharing answers back and forth even after they’d finished their meal. Tae-il continued to keep a close eye on them, clearly anxious for when Yoongi and his men, who had taken a seat away from Margot and Yoongi were sitting waiting for their boss to make a move and more than a little bemused by what they were seeing.

The two had settled into old rhythms as they talked, like the fight that had occurred just before she’d left had never happened. It was as if the six years they’d been apart were washed away, and they were right back where they left off, thick as thieves. 

“I should let you go.” Margot said after a while, standing to collect both of their bowls, as well as the empty carafe and cups. “It’s getting late, and I don’t want to take up your whole evening.” 

“You can take my evenings anytime.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully but didn’t say anything as she returned the dishes to the kitchen where Tae-il was anxiously waiting for her. 

“Margot,” he began, practically wringing his hands. “I think they should go. That young man… that young man is trouble.” 

She looked at him confused. “It’s just Yoongi, Uncle. You remember him from when I was here for college right?” 

He shook his head anxiously. “That is not the same boy you knew. The best thing is to get him out of here and forget the whole conversation ever happened.” 

She was going to argue, but seeing how anxious Tae-il was gave her pause. “I’ll see him out, Uncle.” 

He shot her a grateful smile and returned to what he had been doing before she entered, keeping a watchful eye on her as she went back out.

As she entered the main space again, she saw the two men from earlier talking with Yoongi in hushed tones. Yoongi’s expression set into a grim line she wasn’t familiar with. 

“But, boss, aren’t we here about the money?” One of them asked, and Margot’s blood ran cold. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Yoongi snapped, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Be grateful that I didn’t skin you and those other fuckers alive for what happened last night. You’re lucky she isn’t injured.” 

The bruise on her hip seemed to throb in time with his words as the realization of what he was saying sunk in like a stone settling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Boss?” She asked, her voice both confused and indignant. She stepped back, breaking away from his hold. “Those men worked for you?” 

“Margot…” Yoongi shot up from the table, eyes wide as he looked at her. He took a step forward, reaching for her, but she took a step back, reaching down for the broom propped against the wall. 

She took another step back, holding the broom in front of her as a weapon once more. 

“You’re the one who sent those guys here last night?” She demanded the hurt and confusion clear on her face as she stared at him.

“Margot, I can explain.” He tried, but she was having none of it, pushing the broom at him menacingly to keep him back. 

“Don’t.” she hissed, tears welling up in her eyes. “Is that the business you run? You terrorize old men and women? You extort money from them?” With every sentence her voice rose in pitch, hysteria rising along with bile in her throat.

“Margot…”

“Get out!” she shouted, pushing the broom at him again. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” 

With every yell she pushed him closer and closer towards the door, and with every push Yoongi’s temper rose. He’d only just gotten her back. She was finally within reach again, and now she was trying to push him away? He wasn’t going to accept that lying down.

“Margot,” He growled, grabbing the handle of the broom and wrenching the wretched thing away from her. “Let me explain. This isn’t what it seems.” 

She scrambled a couple steps back, trying to put some distance between them. “I think it’s exactly what it seems like.” 

“I’m still your Yoongi, Margot.” he tried to plead, schooling his features into something soft, something gentle despite his rising frustration.

“The Yoongi I knew didn’t terrorize people,” she spat, venom on her tongue despite the tears welling in her eyes still. “Or extort them for money.”

“Get out.” she ordered, softly now but sternly. 

“Margot…” 

“Out!” she whispered fiercely. “Before I call the police.” When he didn’t move she took one step forward and then another until they were toe to toe. “Out!” she ordered shoving him back with both hands against his chest. “Out!” 

They continued in this way with Margot pushing him back and Yoongi allowing her to do so while his men watched on flabbergasted as he did until they got to the door. It was at that point that Yoongi grabbed her hands, stopping her from shoving him again, and stared down at her with an indiscernible expression. 

“You’re upset now.” he conceded, gently squeezing her hands in his where they were still resting against his chest. “We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down, yeah?” 

Keeping both of her wrists secured in one of his hands, he gently brushed some hair out of her face, watching silently as the tears started to fall, but Yoongi knew better than most that these were frustrated tears, angry tears. There was no use trying to explain to her now, not when she was like this. 

“Get the fuck out.” she hissed, wrenching her hands away from him and taking a few steps and clutching her hands to her chest as though she had been burned. 

“Tae-il nim!” he called, looking over her head towards where the older man was watching the interaction anxiously. “Say hi to the missus for me, yeah?” 

All the color drained from Tae-il’s face, and the heat rose in Margot’s cheeks as her fury rose, but before she could say anything, Yoongi had already turned to go, motioning in a lackadaisical way for his men to follow behind as if this had been all been normal, casual even. 

Tae-il and Margot watched as they all drove away, not saying a word until they were out of sight and they were both sure they weren’t coming back. 

Slowly, Margot turned to her old friend, the grief and horror caused by the revelation written across her face. “What are we going to do?”

Part two

[mylostloversbookmarks]

Waiting for a Miracle

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams

Summary - After being attacked by raiders, you sustain a serious injury - Joel and Ellie do everything they can to save you but will it be enough?

Word Count - 2.5K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Angst, mentions of blood and wounds, swearing, hurt, anxiety, pain, guilt, insecure!Joel, upset!Ellie. Suicide attempt mentioned but not heavily discussed. Im not a medical professional so forgive me if anything is medically inaccurate!

A/N - I hurt myself with this one! Set Post-Outbreak! This is heavily inspired by EP.6 ~ Kin and the beginning of Ep 7 ~ Left Behind, and I thought it would be fun to reverse the rolls on this.

Reblogs, comments and feedback are so welcome and so so appreciated!

If you enjoyed this check out my other works here ~ Masterlist

Divider credit to @saradika

As he walked through the barren wasteland, he could feel the all-too-familiar sense of desolation wash over him. The air is thin and icy, hurting his lungs as he inhales. The only sound that can be heard is the howl of the wind and the crunch of fresh snow under his tired, heavy footsteps.

Moving further down the dirt road, he can see the outline of the dilapidated farm house where he left Ellie watching over you. Its walls crumbled, the roof caved in, the windows shattered, and the once-blue front door hung loosely on its rusted hinges.

Inside, the scene was just as bleak. The remaining furniture was overturned and broken, thanks to raiders tearing their way through any property they came across.

The walls were peeling and covered from floor to ceiling in a thick coat of dirt and grime. A heavy layer of dust had settled over everything in sight.

Moving further into the house, he makes his way to the barricade he had put in place before he left you and Ellie this morning to look for more supplies and any medication he could get his hands on.

 "Ellie?" He huffs out to let her know it is him moving the barricade as he leans his weight on one side of the heavy mahogany book shelf, sliding it along the dingy wooden floor to reveal the doorway.

"Joel? Did you find anything?" Ellie's pleading voice is muffled from behind the closed door.

Opening the door, he finds Ellie in the exact spot he had left her several hours before, sitting on her knees beside the filthy matteress he had laid you on what felt like a lifetime ago.

She was hunched over you with an old rag in her hand, mopping up the sweat that was beading on your forehead. He could see the worry etched onto her face as she did everything she could to keep you comfortable. She looks up at him as he enters, her face grim.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't that he didn't want to disturb you; he just wasn't sure he could stop his voice from breaking if he spoke any louder.

Ellie shook her head. "She's still unconscious, but I think her fever has gone down a bit and the wound isn't bleeding anymore."

Joel just nods, his eyes fixed on you. Seeing you lying there so helpless and vulnerable, like a ghost of your usual bubbly, sarcastic self, the ever-present crease between your brows was gone; your teeth were no longer fussing at your bottom lip; your smart mouth was no longer calling him out on his bullshit; and your face was pallid and covered in a sheen of sweat.

The sight stirred up a storm of emotions within him that he couldn't quite put a name to. Joel knew that he had always been drawn to you, even before the attack.

Though he would never admit it and always did his best to hide it. He couldn't place what it was about you that brought him out of himself, despite his best efforts to keep you at arm's length.

He had vowed to himself that he would never get attached to anyone again. Not after what happened to Sarah.

It wasn't that he didn't want to care about people, but he has learned that in this world, caring for people only brings pain, and he just didn't know if he could survive another loss.

He almost didn't survive it the first time. The faint scar on his temple is a constant reminder of the events he has drank himself into oblivion over on many occasions in the hopes of scarring them from his memory, but it never works.

Though Ellie had always ribbed him when she caught him watching you from a distance, usually when youd set up camp for the night and you were rolling out your sleeping bag or flipping through one of the books you had picked up on the road.

She would jab him in the ribs with her elblow, uttering "Eh? Eh?" with a wiggle of her fair eyebrows. He normally silences her quickly with a stern warning glance, worried you might overhear her.

Now, though, his feelings were more intense, and he didn't know if it was because he was too tired to keep up the effort to hide them or that the fear of losing you was overpowering every other thought that raced through his head.

His mind was consumed by guilt; he had failed. Again. He had failed Sarah. He had failed Ellie over and over, and now he has failed you. Failed to protect you from the man coming at you from behind because he was too fucking old and deaf to hear him coming.

He couldn't fathom why you both had insisted on staying with him when you had both overheard him speaking to Tommy. It was the first time Joel had opened up in what felt like two decades.

He openly admitted to his brother that he knew he was going to get you both killed. He begged Tommy to take Ellie the rest of the way, and he knew that you wouldn't leave her side.

He remembers standing in the stables thirty minutes after he had intended on leaving, pretending to check over the horses saddle and reins, when Ellie walked in, closely followed by you and Tommy.

He offered you both a choice, insisting you would be better off with Tommy. He didn't even make it through his sentence before Ellie was thrusting her pack into his chest, effectively silencing him.

You had given him a reassuring smile and a small nod as you moved to help Ellie onto the horse. And now here you are in front of him, lying lifeless on a soiled mattress in the dead of winter in the middle of nowhere because of him.

He knelt down beside the mattress and took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing small circles into the clammy back of your hand. Motioning to Ellie to pass him his pack, Joel opens it and takes out the supplies he found on his run.

"I found a drug store; it was mostly picked over, but I found this under one of the cabinates." He explains, lifting out a vile of pennicilin and a syringe that is still safely housed in its unopened sterile packaging. He says a silent prayer of thanks to whatever higher power allowed him to find this.

Ellie just nods, her eyes glued to Joel's hands, watching as he takes hold of your hand, turning it so it is palm-up as he rolls your sleeve up past the crease of your elbow, removing his belt and tightening it around your arm.

Tapping at the viens in the crease of your arm but getting no response, you had lost so much blood from the wound that your viens were refusing to stand to attention.

Joel doesn't want to risk injuring a vein, so he decides to inject you directly into your wound. He removes the belt, throwing it to the side, rolls your sleeve back down, and sets your hand back by your side.

"Ellie, Im going to need your help." He murmurs to her, his voice thick with emotion.

"What do you need me to do?" she implores him.

"I can't find a vein; she's lost too much blood, so I'm going to have to put it into the wound. It's going to be painful, but we don't have another option. I need you to hold her still no matter what, okay?" Joel demanded it as calmly as he could.

"Okay, I can do that," Ellie confided, her voice wobbling with the unshed tears that were threatening to spill over at any moment.

"Hey, she's going to make it; she's going to be okay," Joel promises her, his hand coming up to rest on her cheek, wiping away a tear that was making its way down her cheek.

Ellie just nods in response, her tears flowing freely now. Joel pulls the blanket down and gently rolls your t-shirt up your torso, stopping at your ribcage. Removing the bloodied gauze that was covering the wound just above your left hip.

The wound was deep and had left a jagged, misshaped circle of angry crimson on your otherwise smooth, perfect skin.

He tore open the plastic wrapping and removed the syringe from its packaging, taking a deep breath before inserting the needle into the vein and withdrawing the medication.

"Okay, hold her still," Joel says, his voice unsteady as he positions the needle over your wound, placing his other hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb back and forth, willing you to hear him before he continues.

"Darlin, I'm sorry. This is going to hurt, okay? But it's going to help, I promise."

Ellie nods towards him, signaling she was ready; she has repositioned herself at your head, her hands resting on your shoulders, and tightens her hold on you as Joel inserts the needle and slowly pushes his thumb down on the plunger.

You flinch and groan in pain, but Ellie holds you steady, tears flowing down her face and leaving little dark spots where they land on the mattress.

Finally, Joel withdraws the needle and sets it back inside the packaging in an attempt to keep it as sterile as possible given the current surroundings.

He grabs another patch of gauze from his pack and presses it against the wound. He pulls your shirt down and lays the blanket back over you, tucking you in as best he can, being careful not to jostle you too much.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice gentle as he strokes your hair. "Now we wait," he sighs, more to himself than anyone else.

Joel and Ellie sit in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, exchanging worried glances, unsure of what the future holds.

Despite the uncertainty, Joel is determined to do everything he can to keep you safe and help you recover. He holds your hand tightly, and his thumb continues to rub small, reassuring circles into the back of your hand as he silently vows to protect you at all costs.

As the moments tick by, Ellie's anxiety grows with each shallow breath you take. She feels helpless and scared, unsure if you will make it through the night.

The weight of potentially losing another person she cares about is too much, and she breaks. Loud, ragged sobs break through her clenched teeth, shaking her small frame.

Joel's eyes snap up at the sudden sound, and he can feel his heart constricting at the sight of her tears. He releases your hand, pulling her into a tight embrace. He strokes her hair, whispering words of comfort in her ear as she cries into his chest.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, baby girl," Joel murmurs softly. "We're here for her. We're not going to leave her. We're going to get through this together."

Ellie clings to Joel tightly, her body wracked with sobs as she tries to process her emotions. She's scared of losing you and of what will happen if you don't make it. Joel's presence and his words provide some solace, giving her a glimmer of hope that things might be okay.

The three of you stay like that for what feels like hours, huddled together in the dimming light, listening to the sounds of your breathing.

It's a comfort to hear the sound even out ever so slightly and to know that you're fighting to stay alive as hard as they are to keep you with them.

Eventually, Ellie pulls away from him, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her coat. She looks over at you, still sleeping on the matteress, and takes a deep breath.

"We're going to make it through this, right?" She asks, her voice wavering slightly.

"We are," Joel replies firmly, his gaze locked on you. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you both safe."

Ellie nods, a look of determination taking over her face. She moves back to your side, taking your hand in hers and squeezing firmly.

"We're here; we're not going anywhere."

The hours passed by slowly; it was well past dark now and getting colder. Looking over at Ellie, Joel can see she is fighting to keep her eyes open.

"You need to get some rest; I'll stay up with her." He murmurs; his tone is serious, and she doesn't bother to argue with him.

"Okay, but you'll wake me if anything changes." Ellie pushed, not moving a muscle until she had his word.

"I will," he whispered solemnly.

Ellie stood and stretched for the first time in hours, grabbing her pack and unrolling her sleeping bag a few feet away from where Joel sat by your mattress.

She was so exhausted from the stress of the current situation that sleep found her quickly. In a matter of minutes, Joel could hear her soft snores.

Joel shifted into a more comfortable position beside you, stretching himself out on the floor so he was lying on his side, his head level with your own.

He reclaimed your hand in his. It was cold and limp, and he couldn't help but think about how much he had taken you for granted.

He has known that you were strong enough to handle anything that came your way and that you didn't need anyone's help. But now, as he looked at your pale face, he realised that it was ridiculous to think that anyone could have made it out of that situation in any other way.

He leans in close, his forehead resting against your hand, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I should have heard him. I should have protected you." His voice broke, and he struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by your steady breathing, Ellie's snores, and the occasional creak of the old farmhouse. Joel stayed there, still holding your hand, lost in his thoughts. He thought about all the things he wanted to say to you and all the things he wished he had done differently.

He wished he had been more open with you and told you how much you meant to him. He wished he had hugged you and spent more time just being with you.

It was too late for those regrets now. All he could do was sit there, holding your hand or stroking your hair. Willing you to wake up and hoping that somehow, someway, you would pull through. That you would come back to him, and he could make things right.

As he sat watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. Joel knew that nothing would ever be the same again. That he would never be able to erase these memories and that he would always carry this pain with him.

But he also knew that he couldn't give up, that he had to keep fighting and keep pushing forward. For you. For Ellie. For himself.

And so he sat there, stroking your hair and whispering all the things he should have told you before, waiting for a miracle.

[the-s1lly-corner]

uh, hi i’m pretty new to this but can you do a tadc headcannons for a reader who constantly wears a box and/or paper bag on their head because they don’t like how they look?

i’m not expecting you to see this! i’m just curious

TADC cast x reader who wears a box on their head due to their looks!

sorry it took me so long to get to this! my feelings have been in a bit of whirlwind lately and my motivation has taken a nose dive and i may or may not have stopped answering requests chronologically in favor of answering the ones that are easier on my brain </3

CAINE:

assuming he knows you wear it because you feel insecure, i think he would do his best to try to uplift you; especially if you guys are friends and/or partners! he cant stand the idea of you not liking yourself as much as he likes you, you know? makes it a point to tell you that he thinks youre attractive, as well as giving you extra affection... kind of goes overkill, will likely do way too much to try to cheer you up. like im talking he probably dedicates a firework show to you or puts your name in lights, stuff like that to let you know that he cares a lot... but hes got good intentions, i promise!

POMNI:

i think she would find out about the reason behind the box after you open up to her about it. she always just assumed that it was a part of your digital body... and it very well could be, just detachable, like how zooble can take parts of themselves off... not the best at comforting you and telling you youre pretty, but i think her awkwardness and stammering makes her words more sincere. they dont sound rehearsed and scripted, you know? it sounds more natural and earnest. you cant help but believe her when she says she thinks youre pretty, if you decide to show her what you look like under the box

RAGATHA:

also very sweet about it. does not ask for you to take off the box, but she does express that you can unwind around her... very reassuring whenever its brought up, in fact i dont think she wound bring it up unless you did, fearing that she would make you feel pressured to take it off. little scenario but i do think that if you took the box off around her for the first time she kind of just. doesnt notice for a moment before actually paying attention and she kind of just stands there and stares, before simply saying youre beautiful. doesnt make a big stink of it, you know?

JAX:

has probably drawn on your box at least once or put something on it (gum, stickers, slime, ect) but i dont think he would keep doing it when he finds out why you do it... though.... he does purposefully break gangles mask/steps on it so im not... actually sure about that. hmm... i think he would try to play it casual when you bring up your thoughts of yourself to him, though it may come off as him minimizing your feelings. to put it simply jax doesnt think there should be a huge fuss about it. i mean its not like its your real face... might lead to some conflict due to him not having much empathy, for you.. apologies to the jax enjoyers but i do think he would steal the box to try to prove that its not that deep

KINGER:

also thinks that the box is just a part of you before you fill him in on the reasoning around it. displays some brief curiosity before apologizing for prying. i think he would have a similar scenario to ragatha where he wouldnt realize that you took the box off around him for a minute... though unlike ragatha, he doesnt just say youre pretty. i think he would pick apart every part of your face and complement it.. though, i think he generally complements every aspect of you, face or not... you know? not quite as bold as caine, but just as much of a sap, you know?

ZOOBLE:

kind of understands, since theyre a little... complicated and they like switching out their parts to fit whatever feel that want to have that day. but im not sure how deep their feelings would go, because i can kind of see them being similar to jax in this scenario, but less of an asshole. they wont take your box, nor will they write off your insecurities because they actually hold some understanding to them. i think they would offer to help you find a look that you feel comfortable with, sometimes a little something can change a lot of things, you know? but if its something more deep rooted, they would let you talk about it... doesnt speak much on the box since ultimately thats youre business. though, you cant help but notice them complimenting your skills and talents more now that youve opened up to them

GANGLE:

i think she would relate to it. i recall seeing someone say that gangle isnt actually more confident and happy with her comedy mask, rather its a false thing to pretend theyre happy. and honestly, i can see it. id tag the person but i saw this a while ago and i failed to save it </3

moving on, i think she would find some kind of relatability in you. like sure, its not the exact same thing, but you guys are both hiding aspects of yourself behind an object. she wouldnt ever dare make you feel pressured to take it off around her. i think out of all the characters, asides ragatha, shes the best with making you feel comfortable. you can take it off around her when youre ready. i dont think she would flood you with compliments, but i do think she would do her damndest to make you feel good about yourself. leaves you lots of notes reminding you how much she values you + little doodles

[starsfic]

ain't a horror game without religion

Summary: Poppy’s angel has arrived at the factory. Deep below the depths, DogDay hopes.

AO3/Ko-Fi

-_-

“Did you hear? An old worker’s come back.”

“I thought they were all dead…”

“Not this one…”

The whispers fell silent as a tall figure stalked up towards the shrine. Most were allowed to watch from a distance when the priest wasn’t in a hunting mood, but only one was allowed to worship in front of it. The only exception grunted as he was dropped, pain ripping its way up through his body.

CatNap didn’t give him a second look, walking up to the shrine. DogDay resisted a shiver as he stood, spreading his arms in a gesture of worship towards the being that, to most of the toys, had saved them from the pain inflicted by the employees. DogDay knew better, however. And, frankly, most of the others were realizing too.

Maybe that was why the other toys sounded so excited about an employee returning.

After a few long moments in silent prayer, CatNap lowered his arms and turned towards him. DogDay winced as the cat stalked over, gently gripping his scruff without a fight from him. Those teeth could do far more damage, he knew that. He had experienced it.

“...they said that an employee came back,” DogDay eventually spoke up when they entered the halls of the Playhouse. The minis kept to the sides as CatNap carefully made his way through, their eyes glinting in the shadows. It was almost like magic how he could move so fluidly through the various play areas.

CatNap didn’t respond until they reached the cell area. “Our god told me,” he said, his voice whisper soft, as he set DogDay on the floor, fussing at the leather straps that kept him aloft. His arms were already beginning to numb.

“...aren’t you worried? Or something?”

“About what? A puny little insect?” CatNap chuckled, the noise rare since the day they met. “I’m sure that the others can handle them easily. They will never reach down here.”

“But-”

DogDay was yanked aloft before he could figure out what to say next. Without another word, CatNap left.

“But what if they do?” DogDay whispered to the air. Silence answered him.

Time passed.

It could’ve either been seconds or days. DogDay couldn’t keep count. CatNap brought him to the shrine erratically, so he couldn’t use that to keep track of time. He just dangled, left to think. Occasionally, the minis would snarl or growl from the shadows and DogDay winced, rewarding them with his fear.

He had almost forgotten about the rumor when noise met his ears. DogDay could barely look up, wondering what CatNap wanted. Except…the toy making noise was making too much noise. CatNap was quiet and stealthy, taking pride in how he snuck around. Who was down here?

“DogDay?”

He looked up. It was one of the Candy Cats, her blue coat marked with blood. Her long, dangling tongue had nicks and tears taken out of it, making the scene so much worse. “Hey there…” he said, praying she didn’t take advantage. Candy Cats were gluttons by nature, the lack of food was probably doing nothing good for them. “How did you get down here?”

She stepped closer, revealing that the blood around her mouth was shiny. Ah. “I thought all the Smiling Critters were dead.”

He nodded. “They are. It’s just me and CatNap.”

“Might just be you soon…”

“What does that mean?”

Candy Cat looked around, as if worried something would try and eat her if she spoke too much. Which was fair. “The Angel killed Huggy Wuggy.”

“The…what?” One possibility niggles at him, but there’s no way. Huggy Wuggy had killed every human that dared to trespass, only occasionally calling on Mommy Long-Legs or Boxy-Boo for help. There’s no way.

“The human. The employee.” Candy Cat’s eyes gleamed. “They released Poppy. Apparently, she sent a call for help, and they responded.”

A human had killed Huggy. A human had freed Poppy.

A note of bitterness rolled through him at the fact that he had failed to do the latter, but he swallowed it down. Help was here. Poppy was out, and Huggy was gone, which took down one of the layers of protection around the Prototype.

“Everyone’s been calling them the Angel.”

As though Poppy had prayed to God- the real one, not the Prototype- and God had sent help. It weirdly worked.

“What else has happened?”

“Ollie’s getting involved,” Candy Cat whispered. “He was the first person she called.”

Ollie…Ollie…Oh! DogDay remembered now. Oliver had been one of the babies of Playcare, one that Bobby had strapped to her chest in her rush to get them all to the bunker. He would be ten or eleven by now, if DogDay remembered. He had been three when they agreed to send DogDay on that fateful quest… Wait. “I thought Ace was in charge of watching over the security cameras.” Bubba had picked the sullen, rebellious fifteen-year-old to train in the security system, in case something happened to the elephant.

“Who cares? The Angel’s receiving help. That’s all that matters.”

Before DogDay could respond, something lunged at her from the darkness. Candy Cat screamed, but the mini CraftyCorn had dug its teeth into her throat already. Like piranhas, the minis followed and swarmed the poor toy, dragging her screaming into the darkness before a wet crunch cut off her scream.

DogDay was left in the silence.

CatNap soon came to check on him, but DogDay couldn’t dewell on his nonsense.

There was just one thing in his mind.

An angel has arrived.

There’s hope.

[bvtbxtch]

Jack O'Lantern Kiss | Eddie Munson

Day One of Kinktober

Summary: Carving pumpkins with your best friend Eddie leads to confessions you may or may not have always wanted to hear.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, brief mention of Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

wc: ~2k

Content Warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, unrequited love, allusions to smut, hickies. This story takes place in an au where the upside down is not a thing. Although this is a pretty tame story, my blog is 18+ so Minors DNI.

A special thank you to my love and collab partner @darknesseddiem. I am so thankful to know you. Here's to an amazing October!

It was your favorite time of the year. The unforgiving Hawkins summer had ended its assault and the fiery leaves crunch underneath your boots and you can finally have an excuse to curl up with your favorite metalhead and read books all day. You had been best friends with Eddie Munson since 10th grade math (when he was in 11th grade) where you helped him figure out how to find x in beginner algebra equations. You immediately fell head over heels for him, but when he began dating Chrissy Cunningham, you learned how to stoke the fire in your heart to embers. Eddie and you continued to get closer throughout high school. Chrissy never made a fuss and you felt like a constant plus one in their little universe. Eddie was the first one to give you a swooping hug after walking the stage (about 20 minutes after he did). You both had dreams to leave sleepy Hawkins and find yourselves in some big city where you could cheer each other on from your shared apartment. You never imagined Eddie not being in your life; you knew he was your soulmate. It wasn’t until this past August that you considered it might be as more than friends.

-

Eddie called you at 3 in the morning on August 12th. You jolted up, body dusted in a light sheen of sweat from the near 30 degree night. You reached for the receiver and held it to your ear with a groggy hello. You were met with a small sniffle. You knew it was your Eddie. 

“Ed? What’s wrong?” You immediately were shaken from your sleepy daze.

“She… she-” Eddie cut himself off with a pitiful sob. You let out a long sigh and hung up the phone with a soft ‘I’ll be right there, Eddie’. 

The drive to Forest Hills Trailer Park was usually 15 minutes. You were there in 5. You had never heard Eddie cry before, and never expected to hear him cry that hard. You spent the night petting his head and hearing him weep into your body. Three years he had spent loving Chrissy Cunningam, when she had fallen out of love with him a while ago (if she had ever truly loved him at all). 

Since that night, you and Eddie had been inseparable - the impossibly close bond getting closer. You barely knew what your own bedroom looked like as you were almost constantly sleeping at Eddie’s trailer, him being too upset to sleep alone. You watched movies, went to hellfire ‘alumni’ meetings (Eddie called them that but you knew it was just a way for him to make sure that Mike and Dustin were running the club properly), and watched any and all Corroded Coffin gigs you could get to. Hugs became more frequent and Eddie would use any excuse to hold your hand. He was touch starved, and you could tell he was taking this out on you. But why would he not, you were his best friend, and even though you knew that’s where your relationship drew a line, you liked melting into Eddie’s arms or smiling at his forehead kisses. 

-

October brought more scary movies and smoke sessions around the bonfire in Steve Harrington’s backyard. As the month wrapped up, like the weather, Eddie got colder. You knew that Halloween was going to be the first holiday without Chrissy and he was feeling it. You still grabbed his hand and gave him small smiles, but you often got glassy brown puppy dog eyes matched with a small smile. You wanted to take this pain away for him and had just the idea. 

You fiddled with the old lock on Eddie’s trailer door, fumbling the grocery bag in your hands and careful not to step on the two bright orange pumpkins that stand on the concrete steps. You knew you had minimal time to prepare this surprise until Eddie was back from the body shop. You wiggle the knob one more time before it gives and you spill inside the homey space. You drop the bag on the kitchen counter and hastily grab the pumpkins from the step. 15 minutes later, you had flyers sprawled across the counter, the pumpkins sitting neatly on them, adorned with different carving tools and sharpies around them. In small bowls on the stove, Eddie’s favorite snacks: cheese balls, M&Ms, skittles and a bag of cool ranch Doritos. You startle at the door slamming open and stomps of Eddie's feet on the linoleum. You get up from the couch and greet him at the door.

“Hey sweetheart… what’s this??” Eddie’s frown turns upwards when he lays his eyes on your set up in his kitchen. He wraps you in a tight hug.

“Just something that I thought would cheer you up” you muffle your words into his chest. You look up at his chocolate eyes. “I know Halloween is your favorite, so thought we could start the festivities.” His eyes glass over, tears threatening to spill. “No, no Eddie, please don’t cry” You reach your hands up to cup his face. 

“No, sweetheart. These are good tears. Thank you for thinking of me.” He grabs your wrists to lower your hands and he kisses you on the cheek. “I’m gonna go change out of these dirty coveralls and then we can get this party started” The boy’s lopsided smile returned before he pushed away from you and trotted down the small hallway to his room. You made your way back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a dumbstruck smile on your face and butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach. Your cheek burned where Eddie had kissed you and you raised your hand to trace over the spot. You wanted this feeling to last forever. You are pulled out of your trance when Eddie meets you in the kitchen, his hands trapping you against the counter. You smile up at the boy and your heart takes a tumble. Eddie had put his hair back in a low bun and you thought you were going to pass out from how good he looked, how close he was. His lips look so plump and his cheeks a perfect blush to give his alabaster skin some color. Your best friend was perfect. You smile back up at him.

“Well, since you set all of this up, the least I can do is make us some hot chocolate.” The boy quips. When you nod and smile in agreement, he grabs your hips and sits you up on the counter. You watch him in content while he putters around his kitchen. He passes you your favorite tomato soup mug full of steaming hot chocolate. He sips at his mug, eyes never leaving yours. You could feel tension growing so thick it could be cut with a knife - but what kind of tension? You were unsure. 

-

You spent the next two hours throwing pumpkin seeds at each other across the kitchen while Eddie’s new Black Sabbath cassette played in the background. Two faces full of shy adoration and a room full of giggles. You finally turned your pumpkin towards Eddie to show him your final design - a simple outline of a black cat and a bat stares back at Eddie. Eddie reveals his own pumpkin to show two skeletons holding hands. 

“Well that doesn’t look like a scary pumpkin at all” you tease. Eddie throws a handful of skittles at you. Both of you Erupt into a fit of giggles as you both grab handfuls of snacks that you can find and toss them at each other. Eddie lunges at you in an attempt to halt the food war. His hands wrap tightly around your waist and your laughter gets caught in your throat. Your smile falls as the tension finally feels like it is going to snap. You can see Eddie studying your eyes for any sort of discomfort. Although he finds some hesitation, he knows you feel safe - that you want him to be there with you. It’s the most devotion he has honestly felt in almost a year. Chrissy never looked at him the way you do; but if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t look at Chrissy the way he looks at you either. His eyes flicker to your lips as he licks his.

“Eddie,” you whisper. You feel as if all of the air around you has become thick, unable to breathe it in. The curly haired boy inches his face closer to yours, foreheads resting on each other. His breath fans lightly at your face and you can tell Eddie is feeling the same way as you. You nudge your nose against his as a silent plea for him to come closer. He obliges and presses his lips softly to yours. 

You felt electricity jolt down your spine, goosebumps riddled your body. This is what you have wanted for longer than you would like to admit. Eddie’s hands migrate up your back to cradle your face. His long fingers find purchase in your hair while his thumbs rub circles onto your cheeks. You pull yourself away to look at the boy.

“Eddie… please don’t do this because you miss her…” you whimpered. You couldn’t handle this being a one and done situation. You had gotten a taste of what it would be like to have Eddie as yours and you would rather die than give that up now. 

“Sweetheart… I… I have been so stupid. I should have broken up with Chrissy long before she broke up with me…” Your eyes search Eddie’s and all you can feel is warmth. He’s telling the truth.

“Eddie, why??”

“Because I’m in love with you… and I have been for a while” Eddie lets out a chuckle while tears threaten to spill over his lashes again. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and you couldn’t help the ear splitting grin growing on your face. “I thought that being with Chrissy was supposed to be… right. But it way you all along. I tried to forget my feelings for you because I fooled myself into thinking that I was in love with her… But these past few months…” Eddie trailed as he studies every detail of your face; waiting for you to tell him to fuck off, or to push him away, but you keep him pleasantly waiting.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Eddie. I just tried to push it down, I wanted you to be happy” 

You barely have time to finish your sentence and Eddie’s lips are back on yours. His move in sync with yours like you were made for each other. You lift your chin up to grant Eddie access to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you let out a content moan as his tongue enters your mouth. He pushes you backwards so you are again trapped between his body and the counter, pushing you up to resume your previous position. Eddie moves his kisses to the side of your mouth, then trails them down your jawbone to the pulsepoint behind your ear. He can feel your breath hitch when he sucks down to form a beautiful indigo bruise on your neck. He can’t help but smile against your body. He wants to devour you whole, leave you nothing but a gasping mess underneath him. His hands run up your sides, desperate to feel more of you. You break the kiss to help Eddie discard your shirt. His hands were magnetic - they now needed to be a permanent fixture on your body. His eyes fixed on your skin with such adoration your head spun. your own hands track up his torso to his neck to pull him back into you. As your lips reconnect, Eddie’s hands move south to the tops of your thighs. His hands find purchase at the apex of your hips and he feels you shudder against his mouth. The anticipation of feeling him where you want him the most was killing you. But Eddie pulls away from you suddenly, his eyes lower and he grabs for your shirt that had been discarded on the floor haphazardly.

Your brows furrow in confusion while you search his face for hesitation. Your heart begins to beat wildly… Was this just a joke? A heat of the moment type deal? You could feel beads of salty tears dot your waterline. 

“Eddie… Did I do something wrong?” Eddie looked at you with golden eyes full of passion. He wriggles your T-shirt over your head and holds your cheek in his hand.

“No, but I did something wrong. I don’t want this to feel like just a stupid hook up. I want to do this right because you deserve it. I love you, doll, and I want you to be my girl. I want to take you on dates and buy you flowers. I want to make you laugh and dress up nice for you because you deserve it.” You can feel your smile growing wickedly across your face.

“Okay, Eddie. I like the sound of that” you giggle.

“So what do you say? Wanna be my girl and make this official so we can take this to the bedroom?”

“Eddie… I thought you’d never ask.”

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[dcggersedge]

" hey, yunaka. i brought you a thing. "

every day fogado has thought about the way that yunaka pulled him aside. it's not like it was an especially explosive or zappy thing to have done, but he's pretty sure that's what makes it so impactful to him. nobody ever pulls fogado aside to fuss over him because he tries so hard to hide it---but what is there to hide from someone who can see him too easily?

he still thinks about how she'd shredded her cape just to wrap his wounds. woozy, bleeding fogado, taken care of in the shady patches of a damp cave bunker. what a time, huh?

so he comes to her now with a neatly folded cape in his hands---not identical to the one she'd had previously, but pretty close. the material is nice. " here y'go! to make up for the old one. "

"You brought me a thing?!"

The situation during that supply run had been kind of dire. Yunaka doesn't know about Fogado's group, but it felt like her group kept stumbling on things that weren't what they needed and getting stuck dealing with the whole situation going on down there. With her all newly geared up thanks to Alear, and other people needing stuff way more, she hadn't expected anyone to bring her a thing.

Especially when a thing can be anything. She's got her stolen teddy bear, sure, but she's got no idea what Fogado could have snagged for her.

The fabric is a nice purple, almost matching what she wears but a shade darker. Not the worst problem in the world to have. She takes the fabric from him and lets it fall out of the folds, revealing...

"Oh! Aw, Dodo, you didn't have to get me a new cape!" She appreciates it though. She quickly unhooks the old one and shrugs it off so she can throw the new one over her shoulders in its place. It's a bit longer than her last one had been, but she doesn't hate that. She takes a second to tug it comfortably into place before striking a pose with a giggle.

"How does it look, Mr. Fashion Expert?"

[kellykidd]

Baby Severide - Chapter 8: First Shift Back

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: You surprise Kelly at the firehouse during his first shift back as a dad

Words: 1286

Warnings: cannon typical depictions of fires/accidents

Read on Ao3 here

Notes: It’s official, this is the final chapter of Baby Severide. Thank you for even reading one chapter of this fic and I hope you’ll stick around for more of my work! Thank you for your support and join the Taglist to be notified when any of my new fics are published!

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The sound of Kelly’s alarm startled you awake. 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?,” Kelly rushed.

You rolled over to see Kelly throwing on his squad jacket and grabbing his duffel from the floor.

“Stay safe today, I love you,” you said, getting up to give him a kiss.

“I love you too, but you could’ve stayed in bed, y’know?” He chuckled, kissing you.

“I figured I’d check on Alexis.”

“I got that, you go back to bed.”

You crawled back into bed, now shifted to the middle because you had it all to yourself. Kelly checked on the sleeping baby and left the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him. Getting up for work in the morning was something you didn’t miss.

——

“Hey mom,” you called from the bedroom, waking up from the second half of your sleep, “where’s Alexis?”

“She started to fuss, so I got up and fed her a bottle,” she replied, “I hope that’s okay.”

“Thanks mom.”

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to do today?”

“I told Kelly I’d bring Alexis by the firehouse at some point today.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“I should be okay after I get ready for the day. I just want to get dressed, then you can go sightseeing for the day. Meet back here for dinner?”

“Sure, I’ll cook.”

“Mom, you don’t have to do that,” you laughed, pulling some leggings, a t shirt and a hoodie out of your drawer.

“I’ll always cook for you, baby.”

“Well, thank you mom.”

You changed into your outfit for the day and went to find your mom and baby. 

“What’s on your list of things to see today?” You asked.

“Not really sure. I guess I’ll figure it out once I get started.”

“That’s the mom I know,” you chuckled.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“I’m gonna get the firehouse a couple dozen donuts before I bring Alexis to visit. I’ll grab something for breakfast while I’m at the bakery.”

“As long as you’re eating.”

“Don’t worry mom, I’ll have an extra donut just to make sure,” you giggled, packing a diaper bag for a full day of firehouse adventures, “Do you want a ride somewhere? I can drop you off on the way.”

“Sweetie, you’re too kind. I’ve got a rental car, I’ll be okay.”

“If you say so. Can I show you something?”

“Yes, please do!”

You led your mom to your bedroom where you showed her a onesie on the dresser.

“Future Firefighter,” she giggled, “sweetie I love that.”

“Kelly doesn’t know about it yet. I’m gonna put Alexis in it and surprise him today.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Help me get her in it?”

“Sure.”

You and your mom managed to get Alexis into her onesie.

"I'm gonna take a picture, send it to Kelly's mom," you laughed, pulling out your phone.

You snapped a quick picture and sent it to Jennifer, before loading up Alexis in her carseat.

"I guess we're off," you said, hugging your mom goodbye, "see you tonight."

"Yes, see you tonight."

You brought Alexis to your car and secured her in the backseat. Upon sitting in the driver's seat, you looked in your rearview mirror to see Alexis peacefully sleeping. A wave of happiest washed over you as you shifted your car in drive towards to donut shop. 

Arriving at the donut shop near the firehouse, you were relieved to find the bakery had a drive through.

"Hi, 3 dozen donuts please," you announced into the loud speaker.

"22 dollars, drive up to the window."

Rolling up to the window, you grabbed 25 dollars from your purse.

"These for the fire station down the street? 51?" the worker asked.

"Yes, my husband is a lieutenant on the rescue squad there. This is his first shift back after having our daughter and I wanted to bring them something."

You attempted to hand her the cash.

"No, please, these are on me, I insist. They helped my mom out of her house when her kitchen caught fire."

"Wow, thank you so much, I'll pass it along to them."

The worker handed you three boxes of donuts and you buckled them into the passenger seat on your way to 51. 

"We're here," you gleefully cheered to Alexis as you wrapped her in the Moby Wrap and carried the donuts into the firehouse.

"Special delivery!" you shouted, walking up the apron with the boxes.

"Babe, you didn't have to bring donuts," Kelly exclaimed, standing up from the squad table.

"Lieutenant, who are we to turn down donuts?" Joe asked, grabbing the boxes from your arms, "thank you for this."

"Don't thank me, the woman working at the donut shop down the road paid for the donuts. Apparently you guys helped her mom out of a kitchen fire."

Cruz smiled and took the donuts into the common room. Kelly came over and kissed you before checking on Alexis.

“How’s the first day back?” You asked, unwrapping Alexis.

“Good, sucks to be away from you two though.”

“I missed your pancakes this morning,” you laughed, unwrapping Alexis and handing her to Kelly.

He spotted the onesie, “where did you get this, babe?” he laughed.

“I had it made a couple months ago, figured you’d like it, you chuckled.

“Where’s your mom at today?” Kelly asked, bouncing Alexis up and down.

“Sightseeing or something. Not entirely sure. I’ll meet her at home tonight for dinner though. Any interesting calls?”

“Grease fire, no big deal. Hey, do you have plans today?”

“Just dinner with mom, why?”

“Boden’s been talking about Alexis since I got in today.”

“Let’s take her to him then.”

You walked with Kelly towards Boden’s office, Sylvie and Matt now seeing you, and following behind.

“Is that a firehouse baby I see?” Sylvie asked gleefully.

“It sure is,” you smiled, “we’re taking her to see Boden. Come with?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Kelly led the way into Boden’s office.

“Severide, is that your little one?” He chuckled, motioning to the newborn in your husband’s arms.

“Sure is chief,” he smiled, admiring Alexis.

“And how are you doing?” Wallace asked you.

“I’m doing well I think. How’s Kelly doing?” You chuckled.

“I think he’s missing you and the baby, but being back at the firehouse is doing him well.”

“Good to hear.”

“Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, Battalion 25, structure fire, 1821 West Wolcott,” dispatch announced.

“I’m sorry baby, I-,” Kelly started, handing Alexis to you.

“Don’t be sorry, you’re at work,” you smiled, placing Alexis back in the baby wrap, “I’ll stick around with Connie.”

Kelly nodded and speed walked behind Sylvie, Matt and Boden towards the apparatus floor.

——

By early next morning, Kelly was home from shift. You were still asleep and your mom was taking care of Alexis.

After a rough night with little sleep at the firehouse, Kelly came home ready to collapse.

“Hey,” you groaned, swiping the hair from your eyes, “how was shift?”

“Exhausting, we were called out to a fire and an accident after you left.”

Kelly undressed down to his boxers and got in the bed beside you. 

“Alexis with my mom?” You asked, laying your head on his chest.

“She was feeding her a bottle when I came in,” he laughed, rubbing your back.

He started rubbing your side and down to your hip, the tiredness disappearing into thin air.

“How long until you get cleared for... more strenuous activities?” He chuckled.

“Not for another five weeks,” you laughed.

He rolled over and laughed, “Longest five weeks of my life.”

"Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while," you rubbed your fingers around his chest.