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drvscarlett · 11 days

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The Tortured Drivers' Department

— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged

Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece

Fortnight

— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)

The Tortured Poets Department

— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)

Down Bad

— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)

So Long, London

— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)

But Daddy I Love Him

— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)

Fresh Out the Slammer

— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)

Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine)

—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)

Guilty as Sin?

—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)

loml

— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)

The Alchemy

—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)

Clara Bow

— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)

The Black Dog

— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader

imgonnagetyouback

— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)

The Albatross

— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)

How Did It End?

— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)

So High School

—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)

I Hate It Here

—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)

thanK you aIMee

— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)

I Look in People’s Windows

—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)

The Prophecy

—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)

Cassandra

—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)

Peter

— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)

The Bolter

— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)

Robin

— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)

The Manuscript

—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #max verstappen x reader #lance stroll x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #fernando alonso x reader #jenson button x reader #sebastian vettel x reader

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mariasont · 7 days

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Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus - S.R

a/n: im so sorry in advance

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x reader

summary: in which spencer needed you but he needed drugs more

warnings: drug use, angst, imperfect characters

wc: 2.9k

December 19th, 2021

You were tired, each movement a chore as you fumbled with the key and heaved the door open to your shared apartment. It welcomed you with its hushed darkness, broken only by the intrusive light of the streetlamps outside, which bled through the windows and stretched shadows across the room.

It was quiet, too quiet. Keys clinked quickly onto the counter. "Spence? Are you here?"

No answer. Your brows contracted in a frown as you moved with increased urgency through the apartment, heading down the hall to your shared bedroom. There he was, on the bed, his back to you, shoulders tensed and drawn up as though bracing against something.

At the creak of the door, he turned towards you in a slow motion, his eyes glossed over, movements sluggish. The signs were unmistakable--the ghostly colorlessness draped over his skin, the faint tremor in his hands, the beads of sweat on his forehead.

His speech was slurred whether he realized it or not, words melding into each other. "Hey... I didn't hear you come in."

A cold hand gripped at your heart, dragging it down to the soles of your feet, as the vial on the bedside table glared back at you.

"Spencer, you promised," your words trailed off, choked by the tears that now glistened at the edge of your eyes, your hand dragging through your hair, while the other reached out for the bottle. "You promised me."

His gaze lingered on you, heavy and slow, as if each movement you made was effortful to follow. "I...I know. I just...I tried."

"But we've been doing so well. The therapy sessions, the support groups. I thought it was helping. You told me it was helping. You've been clean for a month."

You were trembling, your eyes searching his, but you could barely stand to look at him. It was a bitter pill that you didn't want to swallow--that the person he was right now wasn't him. It wasn't the man you loved, the one who stayed up late to braid your hair, the man who laughed at your jokes even when they weren't funny and he didn't understand them, the man you envisioned as the father of your children.

"What happened?"

"I didn't mean to."

June 2nd, 2021

You were humming to yourself, the melody trailing off as you placed your bag down, but your steps towards the refrigerator halted by the unexpected clatter from the bathroom. You froze in the spot—Spencer should be at work. Your heart was pounding, with a boyfriend who did what he did for a living you were always prepared for the worst.

Your hand found the pepper spray in your bag as you inched forward, the distance to the bathroom shrinking with each pulse of your racing heart. The door was barely open, but the sliver of view revealed Spencer, syringe clutched tightly, his damning evidence, desperation drawn across his face.

"Spencer? What are you doing?"

Shock rooted you to the spot, watching him spin around--a ghost of himself, eyes alarmingly wide and bloodshot, as he furtively tucked the syringe out of sight.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Your body reacts before your mind can, pulling away sharply from the venom in his voice. It's a voice you don't recognize. He didn't even speak to you like that during arguments. Confusion clouds your mind as you retreat, one cautious step after another.

"I...I forgot my lunch. I came home to grab it. Spencer, are you okay? What was that?"

His face crumbled, his hand outstretched in a silent plea, but you, still trembling with apprehension, still unsure, took another step back, your gut twisting at the way hurt reflected in his gaze.

"I can't—it's not what it looks like, okay?"

"But it is, isn't it?" Your hands are clasped behind you, knuckles white, eyes searching his face for something, anything. "It's exactly what it looks like. You're using."

His shoulders sag, his hand reaching behind him to stable himself on the counter as he ran a hand over his face. You were well-acquainted with his past; though you hadn't been there, his stories painted a hauntingly clear picture. If the man responsible wasn't already dead, you'd take him out with your own bare hands.

"But Spencer it's been eight years... what? I just, why now?"

He gave you no response, just the slow, defeated bob of his head, chin sinking to his chest. You released a weary breath, the act itself a release of the pain that tightened around your heart at the sight of him. You closed the distance between you, your hands reaching out, fingers aching to weave through the strands of his hair.

"Hey, look at me, it's okay. We can get you help, okay? Everything's going to be fine, baby."

"No!" His voice erupted, too forceful, but it faded as fast as it came, his words turning to a raw scratch. "No, no... 'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't let this get out. I could lose my job."

Tears carved a path down your cheeks, unchecked, as you held his gaze, hands fastened around his arms.

"Spencer, I don't care about your job right now. I care about you," you plead with him, your fingers slipping between his. "You need help."

"You wouldn't get it, okay?" he murmured, his curls tumbling forward as his hands left yours to gently cup your face. His hands were cold. "Just give me some time to handle it. I'll stop, okay? I can stop."

You were silent, the lack of experience of the situation paralyzing your thoughts, rendering you unsure. How were you supposed to go about this? Who could you tell? You knew the consequences of telling Hotch or even Morgan, knew the depression that would follow if Spencer lost his job. You wanted to believe him; you really did.

"Okay."

December 19th, 2021

"Okay, let's do rehab."

Spencer stands from the bed, invading your space, his voice rising with a sharp edge that was reserved for moments like this. "I'm not letting you ship me away to some facility."

"Spencer, it's not shipping you away, it's getting you help, real help. I gave you a chance, okay? Multiple, actually. I did what you asked. I did everything you asked, please baby."

With each step he took, his actions grew increasingly erratic, and his words more fragmented, as he raked his fingers through his tousled hair. "You don't understand! I watched my mom, her experience with those places... I won't end up like that."

You lowered your voice, infusing it with a softness as you extended your hand towards him, only for him to dismissively shake off your touch. "Please, you're not yourself. You are so much more than this... than what it's making you."

"You don't think I know that? You think I want this?"

You took a step back, an action that had become second nature to you.

"I know. Spence, I know. Please, I'm on your side. I'm always going to be on your side," you pleaded. Your words were desperate. "I just need you to fight, and sometimes fighting is accepting that you need help."

The eyes that had once held such clarity and focus, now seemed distant, looking through you rather than at you. His words a blurred murmur. "I can stop. I just need time... I can handle it."

The familiarity of the words seemed to hit you like a truck, robbing the breath out of your lungs, tears and snot trickling down your face.

"How much time, Spence? How many more chances? I can't watch the man I love disappear before my eyes, please."

August 12th, 2021

Your back throbbed with a dull ache from a day of cleaning, but the task, weirdly enough, was one of your favorite things to do. Your fingers drummed against the wood as you started to put away Spencer's laundry, only to be interrupted by the unexpected feel of something cold and hard in the drawer. You knew it before you saw it. Inside, a collection of vials lay in a row, mocking you.

Your heart plummeted, fingers curling around the vials, the chill of the glass seeming to seep into your skin. You felt a scream clawing at your throat and tears brimming your eyes, but your voice was trapped in silence. Each step was fueled by anger as you made your way to the bathroom. The toilet bowl gaped at you, and without hesitation, you flung the drugs into the water, freezing mid-action as the front door opened.

Footsteps—his footsteps—echoed as if he had a sixth sense. "What the hell are you doing?"

You reached for the flush, only for his hand to encase yours in a startling grip, your eyes flaring wide as you tore your hand back. "Let go of me."

"You have no right."

"Yeah, Spencer? I have no right?" You hiss, shoving him just enough to carve out some distance. You couldn't breathe. "Why do you still have this? You told me you stopped."

You watched as he crumbled before you, tears prickling at his eyes. Each breath you took was unsteady, but your actions were certain as you pressed him into you, as close as humanly possible. Desperation clawed at you; you wanted this to stop. You wanted to take his pain, to make it yours, you'd do anything.

"'M sorry," he choked out, barely audible, his hand cradling the back of your head while the other clung to your waist. "I'm so sorry."

December 19th, 2021

"So, I'm the one at fault?"

"That's not what I'm saying—,"

Neither of you were making sense now; his confusion mirrored your own, and both of you knew this. You were angry, he was angry, both of you a well of grief, feeling everything and nothing simultaneously.

"Well, it sure sounds like it Spencer."

"I just need...space."

The words bit you on the ass, prompting a hollow laugh to rise from your throat--a sound that bore a closer resemblance to a mangled sob than anything.

"Space? You don't get space, Spencer." Your words didn't sound like yourself, like you were listening to someone else speak them.

May 23rd, 2019

You were sweet. It was what had first drawn Spencer to you, the way you radiated a warmth that was almost overwhelming to everyone. You were the kind of person who never met a stranger, nurtured by your innate effort to go out of your way to put a smile on people's faces.

There you stood, delicately snipping away at a bouquet's ends, a soft hum escaping your lips, with blue headphones nestled over your ears, isolating you in a peaceful bubble as you worked. You hadn't seen him approach, frankly, hadn't heard him either, so when you chanced a glance upwards, his unexpected figure prompted a yelp, sending the flowers tumbling to the ground in a colorful cascade.

In a clumsy rush, your headphones were swept off, a stream of apologies tumbling from your lips as you absorbed the sight of him. Short brown hair that framed a face with eyes so stunningly brown they shimmered like molten gold in the light, and he was impeccably dressed in a grey blazer over a rich red sweater, with a crocked tie and white dress shirt underneath.

You thought he'd have to be dying of heat, but he didn't show it.

"Sorry," he murmured, a toothless smile spreading wide across his face as he dipped his head for a closer glimpse of you.

Under the weight of his gaze, you felt a sudden surge of self-awareness, regretting not putting a little more effort into your appearance that morning.

"No, that's my bad, I should really try and pay attention to my surroundings more often."

He gave you another smile in response and that one nearly killed you, teeth and all, and it was so disarmingly handsome it felt like a bolt of lightning had struck, almost knocking the wind out of you.

You were seized by the kind of overwhelming yearning you'd only seem in those cheesy romance movies. You wanted to ask him out, but that was a first for you, so you found yourself blatantly ogling him, utterly transfixed.

"Do you work here?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Sorry, how can I help you?"

"Do you have any bouquets with Lathyrus odoratus?" he asked, eyes roving among the arrangements. "They're a member of the Facabeae family. Interestingly, they have the unique capability to convert atmospheric nitrogen into a more usable form through nitrogen fixation."

You gave him a lopsided smile. "Do you just know that?"

"Uh, yeah."

You hummed in response, fingers tapping the counter before moving between aisles to find what he was looking for. "These?"

"Perfect," he said with a nod.

As you assembled the bouquet, your hands moved nimbly, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at his left hand--no ring in sight, a promising detail. But he was buying flowers, that couldn't be a good sign for you.

"Your girlfriend will be ecstatic with these beauties."

You thought you were being slick, but he'd later tell you he saw right through you, I mean, of course he did.

"Oh, no, no girlfriend," he clarified, almost too quickly, sending a flutter through you heart. You concealed your budding smile by bowing your head, giving the bouquet your full attention. "They're for my mother."

You practically melted. "That's so sweet..."

You lingered on the words, feigning the need to ask for his name, it was a stretch, sure, you didn't really need his name in this context.

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

You returned your name with a beaming smile. "Well, it's wonderful to meet you, Spencer Reid."

You presented him with the completed bouquet, ringing him up while discreetly stealing glances his way.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, anytime."

He came back every week after that.

December 19th, 2021

"You're not the person I fell in love with."

Now that stung. You felt like he had just knocked you on your ass and he hadn't laid a hand on you. Mostly because he was right. You weren't.

You were on edge more than not, your patience wearing thin more than you'd like to acknowledge, and you couldn't remember the last time you had flirted with Spencer like you used to. You couldn't remember the last time you begged for him to come to bed just to feel his arms around you, couldn't remember the last time he'd come home early just to see you, the last time you'd had sex.

You used to be so happy. You used to surprise Spencer with his favorite homemade cookies, leave hand drawn comics on his desk, carefully adjust his tie every morning, listen so intently to every lengthy explanation he had for everything.

You wanted to blame him, wanted to scream, to fight, to kick, but your body refused to cooperate. You were cemented in place, your stare heavy, silently begging him to take it all back, but the words hung in the air, unrevoked.

"You're right." A softness flickered in his eyes, his hand moving forward, but you stepped back. "Don't touch me."

"I didn't mean that—,"

"You meant it, or you wouldn't have said it," you said, your voice cracking as tears stained your face. "I can't keep doing this, Spencer. I've tried, god knows how much I've tried, but it's like you're not even here. I don't recognize my own reflection, let alone us. I love you, Spencer, with a love so deep it fucking scares me, but I can't stand by and watch you kill yourself."

April 23rd, 2024

"One sec!"

The bell over the door jingled, prompting you to snap the inventory boxes closed, nudging them back with your hip as you maneuvered through the storefront, balancing the boxes towards the desk.

"Here let me help!"

The boxes obscured your view, but a hand with neatly polished nails gracefully relieved you of one, placing it gently on the ground.

You let out a light laugh, easing your own box to the floor. "Thanks, I somehow always underestimate the weight of soil."

The woman was breathtaking, the kind that could make you second-guess the fairness of fate. She seemed more suited to the glossy pages of a fashion magazine than the worn-down, way overdue for a deep clean, flower shop.

"How can I help you?"

"Just a dozen roses, please."

You offered her a brief nod, reaching for one of the pre-arranged roses from the shelf behind you and placing it down on the counter.

"Could you leave a note?" she asked, her glittering finger lightly pressing against the fabric of her dress. Now that was a rock.

"Of course," you say, your hand deftly sliding open the drawer beneath you to retrieve a card. "Just let me know what you want it to say."

As she spoke, your pen hurried to keep pace. "A year of marriage and a lifetime to go."

You flashed her a warm smile. "Congratulations. Who should I make it out to?"

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

Nausea churned in your gut, somersaulting into a sharp, searing sting. This must be some cruel joke. But the date wasn't April 1st, and the woman's serious expression stripped away any hope of humor.

You swallowed hard, writing the name of the man you'd thought would be your husband. While ringing her up, you did everything in your power to conceal the tremble in your hand and the tears that were just moments away from falling. He hated roses.

Your eyes followed her as she left, watching her every step to the car and out of the parking lot, until she was just a speck in the distance. The realization hit you like another wave of nausea--why could he get clean for her and not you?

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #Spotify

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toppamplemousse · 3 days

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sebastian vettel & charles leclerc: on almosts

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus x sebchal

#ok this is blurry if not on mobile SORRY #anyway. obviously listened to ttpd and thought. how can i make this about my favorite homoerotic hero worship dynamic #but luckily i didn't even have to try! as this was right there #WILL I ALWAYS WONDER #sorry we will never be normal abt them #sebchal #ttpd #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel

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supernaturalgirl20 · 1 year

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The Decision

Pairings: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, couple fighting, mention of divorce, separation, mentions of fertility issues, Marcus being a little bit of a dick, cursing.

Chapter summary: you both decide to end your marriage and separate but what about the family tradition of Christmas with the pike’s?! Can you really pretend to be together for 7 days?! Or will the cracks start to show?

A/N: this will link up with my Xmas writing challenge (you’ll see 😏) Thank you to Chloe @misspearly1 for the beta. You’re a little gem 💎

Series Masterlist

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Silence befell the room, though the mental suffering was audible in your stammered breaths as you sit staring at your husband - his hair slightly dishevelled from running his fingers through it frustratedly - you can’t help the way your heart breaks just a little more.

How had it all come to this? You ask as the image of your wedding day flashes through your mind and the watery smile he had on his face when he saw you in your dress for the first time. The day was beautiful, the love was young and strong, yet it feels like a distant memory. It feels lost and forgotten.

A deep sigh escapes his lips, pulling you from your thoughts as he slowly lifts his head to face you. “So, this is it then.” He says and you’re not sure if it’s a question or a statement, but you nod anyway. “It’s for the best. I mean, you said so yourself.”

“Yeah, I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though.” He looks away briefly and shakes his head, pondering in thought as if memories were flashing across his mind too before looking back into your eyes, “I still love you. I always will, it's just…we’ve drifted apart and I’m so tired of all the fighting.”

“I just wanted to spend time with you like we used to. Before…” You look away too, shaking your head as you take a second to calm your emotions before speaking. “...You’re never home anymore, Marcus.” You say calmly.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he huffs in frustration, “I know that,” he runs his fingers through his hair once more before lifting his head to look at you, “I know but I’ve got that big promotion coming up, I’ve told you that. Fuck! We can’t keep coming back to this.”

“Isn’t that why we’re separating?” You snipe sarcastically.

“That’s not fair.”

“I know, I’m sorry. What will we do about Christmas? It’s only a week away and your mom has everything organised.”

Marcus sighs again, slumping back on the couch with his head facing up at the ceiling. “Fuck I don’t know. She’s gonna be so upset about this. It’s gonna break her. Maybe we could…no, never mind.”

“No, what? Tell me.” You move your hand to rest on his thigh and you think you hear his breath hitch at the contact. It’s the most you’ve had in weeks and a huge part of you misses how it used to be.

“Maybe we could just go and not say anything.” He’s looking at you now, his eyes soft and pleading as he waits for you to answer. “Marcus, we can’t not tell them.”

“No, I know, that’s not what I’m saying,” he says as sits up. “We could just wait until Christmas is over, just give mom one last Christmas dinner with us together?” Your eyes trace the outline of his face, taking him in like this will be the last chance you get. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and it almost breaks you. He has so many little quirks that you spent years learning and now you’ll never see them again.

“I guess we could…. I mean it’s only for a couple of days, but when everyone else leaves after new year’s we need to tell them.”

Marcus is nodding his head furiously, “we will, I promise.” A smile breaks out over his face as he places his hand atop yours, giving it a quick squeeze before he shifts off the couch and stands. Your heart shatters as you stare at his now empty spot on the couch beside you. “I got to get back to work,” he says as he grabs his keys off the side table. Clearing your throat, you stand and follow him. “Yeah, of course. I’ll… I’ll start packing my things I guess.”

He falters in his step but quickly recovers giving you a forced smile before he nods and then leaves, the door closing loudly behind him. It’s over. It’s really over. Your breath hitches as you begin to sob, crumbling under the weight of your grief. Your hand rests on your stomach. If only you’d been able to have a baby. Been able to give him the family he always wanted. The one you always wanted. Maybe then he would have been home more.

Wiping the tears away you pull yourself together and make your way into the kitchen to make tea. It won’t fix anything, but it will help. At least your nan used to say so. Then you can start packing. It’s just a week. You can survive that at least. Well, you hope you can.

***

The week passed much the same with Marcus constantly working late, only coming home to eat and sleep. He had completely moved into the guest bedroom and the nights were colder without him, but this was your new reality now, you would just have to get used to it. He wouldn’t be there to wrap his arm around you and pull you close after getting in late or tickle you in the mornings to wake you up before you’d make love. A knock to your door startles you, “Hey the cab will leave here in 20, so if you wanna shower before, you better do it now.” Marcus’s voice is muffled by the door, but you can still hear the impatience in it before the sound of his footsteps fade down the hall. You take in a shuddered breath as you lay back in the bed and star up at the ceiling. Time to face the music.

***

Marcus is quiet in the cab only speaking when he absolutely must, and you hate that it’s come to this. You’ve become strangers. “So, how’s work going? Making any head way on the promotion?”

“Jesus Y/N, can’t you give a rest just for once about the job. Can’t we just spend our last few days together not arguing?” He doesn’t even turn to face you as the harsh words slip past his lips. “I was only asking,” you say trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to leave your lips. “No matter what you think of me, I still care about you. I’m… I’m sorry.” Turning quickly to face the window you try to hold back the tears, but they come out as a strangled sob.

“Hey,” Marcus whispers softly, his tone laced with regret as he rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. When you turn to face him, he reaches out to cup your cheek as his thumb gently wipes the falling tears. “I’m sorry… that was uncalled for. I hate making you cry. I seem to do a lot of that these days.” He trails off as his eyes flick down to your lips quickly before he clears his throat and removes his touch. “Were almost at the airport. Try get some rest.”

***

The rental car is small and electric, and you roll your eyes at how this is so typically Marcus trying to always save the world. Ironic when he didn’t seem to want to save your marriage. You let your eyes drift over his form, and you can’t help but notice the way his jeans hug his thighs snuggly or the way his t-shirt stretches a little over his muscular arms. It sends a spark straight to your cunt and a heat begins to build within you.

“You ok over there?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. “You look a little flushed.” Marcus’s eyes drift over to you briefly and you feel your face heat up even more. Clearing your throat, you turn your gaze back out the window. “Yeah. All good.”

“Sure? I can pull over if you want some air?”

“No, its fine, honestly. We’re nearly there now anyway.” You huff out a breath hoping he’ll get the hint and let it go.

“I’ll just pull over it’s no big deal.”

“Jesus Marcus, just leave it. I said I’m ok.” You huff in frustration and Marcus mumbles something under his breath you don’t quite catch. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

His hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter and you can see the muscle in his neck strain a little. You hate the way your body is betraying you, even now. “No say it, come on. Get it off your chest.”

“Fine. You want to know what I said?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have asked otherwise”, you snipe back at him.

“I said you’re getting more like your mother every day. Old and bitter. All you ever do is complain.”

You gasp, feeling like you’ve just been kicked in the gut “You take that back.” Marcus shakes his head. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“You tell me it enough.” Marcus runs a hand through his hair and sighs in exasperation. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. How are we gonna play nice for seven days in front of everyone? We can’t even sit in the same car together for five minutes without arguing.”

“You wanted this. I was happy to just tell them over the phone, but you didn’t want that so you’re gonna have to suck it up. Or don’t, I don’t care anymore. You can always leave me at the next hotel and tell your mom yourself, be a man for once.”

“How did we end up like this?” Marcus sighs and you swear when you look at him his eyes are welling with tears. “I ask myself that every day. We used to be so close, you were my safe place. Do you remember that Christmas we decided to drive to your parents and got snowed in half way, so we hauled up in a cheap motel for the holiday and just ate diner food and watched hallmark movies on the shitty tv?”

Marcus smiles over at you, a warmth filling his brown eyes that you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. “That Christmas was my favourite. It was just us.” He says in a soft voice as he stares out the window and continues to drive. “Yeah, it was mine to.” Silence fills the car and then you’re pulling up to his parents’ house. Once the car is parked the front door swings open and Mary Pike waves vigorously at you both. Clearly excited to have her family home for Christmas.

Smiling back at her you turn slowly to find Marcus’s gaze already set on you. His eyes hold an emotion you can’t read but before you can even question it, he’s shaking his head and plastering a smile across his face. “Show time.” He leans over and kisses your cheek before hopping out and greeting his mom. You place your hand on the cheek he kissed, the ghost of his lips still lingering there before you take a deep breath and follow your husband. This was going to be one long week.

Part 2

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @dindjarinswhore @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories

#pedro pascal #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x female reader

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markedbyindecision · 1 year

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Chloe Decker and Marcus Pierce in Lucifer 3x09 “The Sinnerman”

#chloe x marcus #chloe x pierce #do they have a ship name?#chloedeckeredit #marcuspierceedit #luciferedit #dailylucifernetflix #lucifergifs #*#*gifs #*lucifer #dcmultiverse #(spoilers)#chloe x cain

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 4 days

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Chloe Or Sam - A Dieter Bravo Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader Word Count: 500 Summary: Friendship get complicated whenever somebody confesses their feelings. Warnings: Angst, smut memories, feelings, lost friendship. I'm sorry your heart was broken Dieter. A/N: Hi, it's me again posting yet another Taylor song themed drabble. I listened to "Chloe Or Sam Or Sophia Or Marcus" and had to write this out.

Masterlist

He’s there, always there. At your table, a chip taken out of the vase from the time he accidentally knocked his hand into it while animatedly telling a story. In your car, his forgotten sunglasses still sitting in the middle console, one of the many pairs he always loses. On your couch, the brown blanket you have draped over the back reminding you of his big fuzzy coat you helped him pick out. In your bed, the memory of the time you took your friendship a step forward, his eyes watching as you unbuttoned your shirt, his smile as you climbed on top of him.

The walls of your apartment whisper his name, they hold the sound of him telling you he loved you, tearing your world apart, his confession, his idealization of you. You’d never be able to change into his idea of what he wanted, what he needed, you’d never be able to save him the way he always wondered if you could.

A sigh, his brown eyes downcast at your rejection. His earring glinting in the light as he solemnly nods, that same earring you helped him pierce in your bathroom while splitting a bottle of wine. Your apology, his smile as he tells you he understands, he’s such a good actor.

He walks away, how many times will he tear your world apart?

You watch from afar. You dress up as someone else, changing into what someone else needs, still feeling like a fool while you play the part of someone else’s goddess, looks like you’re also a good actor.

You watch his movies, you watch his interviews, you ignore his calls, you never text back. His handsome face shines on the screen. Your heart breaks over and over as you match each smile with a memory of him. A chill as he tells the pretty starlet he loves her as he saves the day, you pull the blanket that reminds you of him closer feeling like a villain as you wonder if your boyfriend can sense your guilt. You wish you could be his hero, you wish you could change into the cape and save him, but you know he doesn’t need you like he needs drugs. You could never watch that.

Tabloid fodder, paparazzi pictures, rehab rumors gallop around your head like wild horses. He tries on partners as you settle down, you think of his hands all over them. You watch it happen.

You sell off that apartment, moving into a new home, somewhere that he no longer haunts like a phantom hologram. The cadence of his footsteps no longer following you down the hall into your bedroom, the breeze from the window no longer floating across your skin as he undresses you, the walls of your bedroom no longer painted dark green acting as the backdrop while his naked body crashes into yours.

You try to outrun the desertion, you try to tell yourself you were too impaired by your youth, you were a wreck, he still is one.

It could never be enough.

Bravo.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal drabble #dieter bravo brainrot club #dieter bravo fanfiction #ttpd #the tortured poets department

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permanently-stressed · 11 days

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I’m not yet done with my TTPD x KOTLC analyses, I only have 6 posted rn, but what are your thoughts on that album with kotlc?? Cause some of those songs were SCREAMING the names of some of my favorite characters and ships—

Ok so I HAVe ALOT OF THOUGHTS BUT THEY'RE VERY UNORGANIZED SO BEAR WITH ME.

So when I listened to "Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me?" for the first time I thought 'okay this is what Sophie needs to be like in book 10' but also consider MARELLA!!! IN BOOK TEN!!! AS THIS SONG!!

"My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys" gave Human AU Sophitz to me ngl. Like, if Matchmaking hadn't pushed it to the edge, they would've had a very slow death imo

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart is Biana Vacker and Biana Vacker only, enough said (I might do a longer post on this when it marinates)

Down Bad and So High School are both Sokeefe songs in ✨vibes ✨

I Hate It Here gives me Sophie in the forbidden cities all around. We don't often see her soft side, but this is what I think it would sound like.

The Tortured Poets Department is giving me SOMETHING. I feel like it's screaming the name of someone but I still can't figure out who and that's frustrating me.

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus is Very Much Sophitz in the sense that when I heard "you said some things I just can't unabsorb" something clicked for me

For now this is what I have lol I'm still trying to process the lyrics and meaning of each song so I'll probably post about it more

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #sophie foster #thank you so much for the ask!!#keefe sencen #sokeefe #fitz vacker #isa thinks #Sophitz #kotlc x taylor swift

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ohitsmelaura · 10 days

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i'm currently obsessed with ttpd and chronically obsessed with red queen, so here's a list of which songs i think fit which ship more and why i think they do marecal x mareven edition

obviously, spoilers

marecal:

fortnight feat. post malone (two people who are promised to another people but had a short affair and not touching each other now is ruining their lives exatcly exactly we heard that before)

down bad (you cant say mare wasn't in a "so fuck you if i can't have us" mood in war storm)

so long, london (change london for harbor bay and there you have it, king's cage epilogue)

but daddy i love him (but grandma i love her - cal's version)

fresh out the slammer (fresh out the slammer, i know who my first Cal will be to)

guilty as sin? (honestly, if you know the lyrics, you know i dont even have to explain)

loml (i wish i could unreCal how we almost had it all and "mr steal your girl then make her cry" too)

the alchemy (be serious, cal would play football irl)

the black dog (pubs usually remember me of marecal, and "old habits die screaming" says a lot about their on and off situationship in war storm)

the albatross (that's so Cal attracted to the danger she represented in red queen, then being destroyed for chasing her and then she was his lifeline in glass sword)

the prophecy (cal in the end of war storm like "i dont want the crown i just want my lightning girl 😞")

peter (not actually what happened, but the "wait for me" theme fits war storm's ending)

mareven:

my boy only breaks his favorite toys (bruh... are you really going to read this song title and tell me it’s not about mareven?)

who's afraid of little old me? (who's afraid of little old mare? MAVEN SHOULD BE)

i can fix him (no really i can) (she can't, no one can)

the smallest man who ever lived (he was sent by elara so yeah he was ACTUALLY sent by someone who wanted her dead)

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus (me and maven have a lot of things in common, one of them is sobbing to the sound of "If you want to break my cold, cold heart/Just say 'I love you the way that you were'")

how did it end? (i almost gave it to marecal bc of the dance mention, but i think mareven fits more bc 1- mare learned to dance with cal not with him and she preferred the lessons' song than the ball's song, so yeah mareven learned the right steps to different dances 2- while marecal have an on/off thing, mareven has a really slow but certain death)

#“oh where's the title track?” i dont like the title track so it's actually nowhere #i can do it with a broken heart fits both and this is a versus with no draws #rip maven you would love this album #red queen #mare barrow #tiberias vii calore #cal calore #marecal #mareven #ttpd #taylor swift

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bitchysoulwasteland · 1 month

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Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Reader

It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that Lucifer hated Marcus Pierce with a passion. A burning, hell-fire rivalling hatred. So, when he broke Chloe’s heart, Lucifer being Lucifer decided to do something about it.

But, what was uncommon knowledge was that Lucifer was married. To you, Y/n Morningstar, former Archangel before you followed him down to hell. But, you had been gone for years now.

5 years ago:

The mission was going well. Too well. You, Nat and Bucky hadn’t been fired at once. Then, all hell, metaphorically, let loose.

Gunfire came at you all from every angle, which is why you didn’t see the huge Hydra agent behind you as he knocked you straight out.

The Avengers had spent months trying to find you. Lucifer had spent two years trying to find you. He almost broke the ‘no angel shall kill a human’ rule. But none of their searching was to any avail.

Soon enough, everyone gave up. Everyone apart from Lucifer. He still spent his free days, when he wasn’t either with the detective or sorting things at LUX out, trying to bring you back to him.

A killer had struck again. Chloe explained the situation, but Lucifer’s mind was somewhere else. There were a pair of wings on the wall. Angel wings mounted on the wall. And he knew exactly who they belonged to. Emphasis on the past tense.

His eyes filled with rage as he stormed away from the crime scene and into an alleyway. He had to get to Avenger Tower, maybe someone would help him find you. Loki. You were good friends with Loki. Even if no one else wanted to help he was sure the Asgardian prince would.

Within seconds he was at the tower, due to his wings.

Storming through the common room floor, he finally found the raven haired prince.

“She’s alive.”

“She, who?”

“Your best friend. The archangel. My wife. Y/n Morningstar.”

“She was found alive three years ago, Lucifer.” Loki said as you walked into the common room after being on a run with Steve and Bucky, the pair on either side of you.

“Oh, fuck.” You mumbled as you tried to get away from the situation. But, you weren’t fast enough, since halfway to your room, Lucifer stood in your path, his wings in all their glory, taunting you. “What do you want, Lucifer?”

“What do I want? What do I want? I want to know why my wife, there all powerful archangel decided that she would stay here, for three years, completely fine and tell no one anything about it! That is what I want, Y/n!” Lucifer regretted shouting when he saw you visibly flinch.

“I wasn’t completely fine or however it was that you out it. They captured me, experimented on me. They held me prisoner. They took my wings and then they mounted them and put them on a wall in that place where I would be forced to look at them all the time. I wanted to come back to LA, to you and to LUX. But you wouldn’t want a damaged angel. Like you said, I’m supposed to be one of the all powerful archangels. I have no wings, Luci. I’m useless. That’s why I didn’t come back. You wouldn’t want me anyway.”

“Don’t ever say that you’re useless and I wouldn’t want you, my darling. I will always want you and love you. I made a promise when we married that I’d be there for you no matter what. So get that thinking out of your head. I love you, Y/n, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I just- just don’t leave me ever again, please. I don’t know how I’ll cope. You ask the detective about how I’ve been in your absence and she’ll tell you.” Lucifer said, his own tears threatening to spill.

“You really mean all that? You still want me even though I’ve got no wings?”

“I’d want you even if you turned human, lost your angelic abilities and turned into some hideous being.”

“Thanks, Luci.”

“You’re welcome, my dove. Now, show me around this place, I want to know what’s been going on in the time I haven’t been around you.”

#avengers #x reader #loki laufeyson #netflix lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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anonymousewrites · 1 year

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Adolescent Antichrist (Book 3) Chapter Twelve

Father Figure! Lucifer x Teen! Reader

Chapter Twelve: I Liked It When You Wanted to Die

Summary: Cain faces down Lucifer and (Y/N).

“We need to get evidence,” said Chloe. She, Lucifer, Ella, and Dan were gathered to discuss how to deal with Cain (Pierce to them). He had sent a killer after Dan, but luckily they had caught him and tied him up at Lucifer’s penthouse. “We can’t just hurt him, Dan.”

“He killed Charlotte,” said Dan angrily.

“I know, but if we need to take him in with evidence in order to get justice for Charlotte,” said Chloe.

“Are you sure, Detective? Because I can get Maze. She’s very good at this sort of thing,” said Lucifer.

Chloe leveled a pointed look at him. “Lucifer, just because things are ‘back to normal’ doesn’t mean Maze has to be attacking people.”

“Well, it would certainly make things easier,” sighed Lucifer. His phone rang, and he held up a hand. “Hold that thought, I’ll continue convincing you in a moment. Hello?”

“Lucifer, we don’t have time—”

“Pierce,” said Lucifer venomously as Cain greeted him over the phone.

Dan, Ella, and Chloe’s eyes widened.

“Hello, Lucifer,” said Cain. “I trust you’re already on my trail.”

“You don’t get to reinvent yourself this time,” said Lucifer, narrowing his eyes.

“No. No, you got too close this time,” said Cain. “I can’t just skip town. I need to get rid of all evidence of Marcus Pierce.”

“Starting with me?” questioned Lucifer. He scoffed. “You forgot your position now.” Cain no longer had his mark to protect him.

“I’d be careful, Lucifer. I can start with them first.” Cain pushed the phone into (Y/N)’s face in the warehouse he had them trapped in.

“Lucifer, don’t play his game—!” Cain pulled the phone away from (Y/N).

“Do you understand?”

Chloe watched Lucifer’s face pale. “Lucifer?”

He paid no attention to her. “(Y/N),” he breathed in worry.

Ella’s hand went to her mouth as she gasped in shock. Dan’s eyes widened, and Chloe’s gaze softened with worry as they realized Cain had (Y/N).

Lucifer’s fear morphed into anger in a moment. “If you harm them, I will rain all the fury of Hell on your head.”

“If you want them, track the call. I know Miss Lopez can. I’ll see you soon, Lucifer,” said Cain, hanging up.

(Y/N) glared at him from where they were tied down. “You’re going to regret this,” they hissed. The shadows below them wavered, but without direction, they couldn’t move enough to protect their master.

“No, this is all going to plan. I get rid of Lucifer to protect my identity, then I get rid of you,” said Cain. “I doubt God will approve of killing an innocent. He’ll punish me again with immortality, and then everything will be back the way it should be.”

“You want to live now? I liked it when you wanted to die,” muttered (Y/N).

“I’ve decided differently,” said Cain.

“What a time to become optimistic about life,” snarked (Y/N). “You do realize you can’t kill Lucifer, right?”

Cain smirked. “If Chloe’s there, I can.”

“Lucifer will find a way. And he won’t stop until he’s hunted you down and sent you to Hell where you belong for what you did to Charlotte,” spat (Y/N).

“That was an accident,” said Cain shortly.

“Perfect, you’ll have guilt waiting for you in Hell,” said (Y/N).

Cain kicked their chair over, and (Y/N) gritted their teeth as they hit the ground hard. They grinned as the wind was knocked out of them. “Learn to shut your mouth while we wait for Chloe and Lucifer.”

Lucifer and Chloe walked carefully into the building. Ella and Dan were watching the would-be assassin while they faced Cain. They found themselves in an old mansion filled with sellable antiques, statues and a few paintings. Chloe reached for her gun as they crept through the room.

“I wouldn’t do that, Chloe,” said Cain, walking out from a side room. He had his own gun and (Y/N) against his chest. Several other men, contacts of the Sinnerman, emerged throughout the room and floors above. Each held a gun.

Lucifer ignored the present danger and searched (Y/N)’s face for signs of injury. They appeared tired, and there was a cut on their forehead, but luckily, they didn’t seem any further wounded. And the fire in their eyes was fierce as ever as they stared back at Lucifer.

“You don’t have to do this, Pierce,” said Chloe.

“Yes, I do,” said Cain. “And normally, I would just reinvent myself. But this time, I can’t.” He pressed the gun to (Y/N)’s temple, and they sucked in a breath. Their hands were held tightly, but the shadows beneath them shifted uneasily as they strained to help. “Not before I kill Lucifer and the kid.”

“What? Why?” questioned Chloe, glancing at (Y/N) in horrified concern.

“Because I know he’ll never stop hunting me,” said Cain. “And I can’t afford to spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder.”

“(Y/N)’s just a kid. Let them go,” said Chloe.

“They aren’t a threat to you,” said Lucifer.

Cain scoffed. “I’ve seen what they can do. And their death can give me back what I lost.” His immortality would be punishment for killing another innocent. That’s what Cain believed. “But you don’t have to die, Chloe. Step away from him.”

“Detective, for once, I agree with this imbecile,” said Lucifer. “Step aside. Pierce, let (Y/N) go. My death should be enough.”

“No, Lucifer—!” (Y/N) winced as Cain pushed the gun harder into their temple as a warning before lifting it to point at Lucifer.

Chloe narrowed her eyes and stepped between Cain and Lucifer. She couldn’t risk (Y/N) and Lucifer’s lives. “No.”

“Detective,” said Lucifer worriedly. The two people he cared about most were in danger, and he wasn’t sure how to act.

“Chloe,” warned Cain.

“I believed everything you said, Marcus,” said Chloe. “That you loved me. That you did all of this for me. Which is why I know that you won’t shoot.”

“You made me realize life is worth living,” said Cain. “And I will do anything stay alive.”

I’ve never been so upset that someone doesn’t want to kill themself, thought (Y/N).

“And if you get in the way of that…” Cain’s gun focused on Chloe, and his grip on (Y/N) tightened.

Chloe held up her hands. “I believe you. I don’t want to die. I can’t. Not without stopping you.” She raised her gun and shot.

The precision was on point, and it caught Cain in the shoulder, even as he held (Y/N). They pulled away as he fell back, and at the same moment, another of the men with Cain shot Chloe, and she fell.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in fear, and he grabbed (Y/N) with one hand and held Chloe with the other. Drawing them close, he glared at Cain, who scowled back.

“Finish it. Finish it!” shouted Cain.

A hail of bullets fired down at the three. (Y/N) cried out, pushing closer to Lucifer as he pulled them and Chloe to him. Lucifer cried out in rage and extended his wings. The white feathers curled around (Y/N), Chloe, and Lucifer, and even as bullets landed and splotches of blood appeared, he gritted his teeth and bore the pain to protect Chloe and (Y/N).

(Y/N) closed their eyes as their anxiety spiked. Being in Lucifer’s protection helped it, but the shouts and bullets were affecting them. Get me out, get me out! “Dad!” they cried.

Lucifer held them closed and flapped his wings. They were gone in a second. (Y/N) fell out of the protection of Lucifer’s wings as they landed roughly on the roof of the building.

They panted and looked up wildly at Lucifer. “Is Chloe…?”

“She’s alright,” breathed Lucifer. He lay her down gently and faced (Y/N). “Are you?”

(Y/N) nodded, but the movement was unsteady. “I’m-I’m okay, Dad.”

Lucifer’s heart swelled. Dad. They had called him Dad. “Alright. Alright. Good. Stay here. I’ll finished Cain.”

“Wait, Lucifer, don’t alo—” Lucifer was gone “—ne.” (Y/N) furrowed their brow in frustration and darted to the stairs to go back down.

While (Y/N) ran down the stairs, Lucifer took care of the hired men one by one. Without Chloe so close, he could fight, but he was still injured, and Chloe was still too close to be completely invulnerable. Cain hid and avoided getting killed. He only emerged to fire a shot at Lucifer’s back.

“Dad!” cried (Y/N), and they threw a hand out.

Shadows wrapped up around Cain and knocked his hand away. The gun skittered across the floor. Cain panted and glared at (Y/N) and Lucifer.

“I guess it’s just us now,” said Cain. He pulled out a blade of demon steel he’d stolen from Maze. “But I came prepared.”

He rushed Lucifer, and (Y/N) moved in between on instinct, even as Lucifer reached out to stop them. The stab cut (Y/N)’s side, and they fell. Shadows rushed up around Cain as he tried to continue his attack, and (Y/N) held up their hands.

Lucifer saw red. With an angry shout, he grabbed Cain’s arm and grappled with him. The shadows, sensing someone protecting (Y/N), held Cain tighter. Lucifer twisted his arm and pushed the blade. It sliced into Cain’s chest, and he fell, gasping in pain.

Lucifer helped (Y/N) up, running his hand worriedly across their wound. They shook their head, indicating they were alright. It was a shallow cut, barely there. Lucifer faced down Cain.

“I am a Devil of my word. I told you, if you harmed them, I would rain all the fury of Hell on your head. And you. harmed. them.” Lucifer glared at Cain.

Cain chuckled weakly. “I’m going to Heaven.”

(Y/N) felt pure anger overwhelm them. It burned away the nausea of seeing someone die. This was personal. “No, you’re not.”

“I don’t…regret anything I’ve done,” said Cain, coughing.

“Charlotte Richards,” said (Y/N). “Don’t you dare forget her.”

Lucifer crouched next to Cain. “You killed her.”

Cain shook his head. “No. That was an accident.”

“Well, you pulled the trigger. You ended her life. You chose to kill her,” said Lucifer. “Deep down, you know you’re a monster. And that you belong in Hell, where you will torture yourself with that truth for eternity.” His eyes blazed red as he ensured that Charlotte Richards would happily remain in Heaven while her murderer went to Hell where he belonged. “’Cause no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t outrun what you’ve done. What you truly are.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as they watched Lucifer’s Devil Face return to him. He had manifested it, not God or the Sinnerman. It was all Lucifer and his perception of himself.

“And neither can you,” coughed Cain in satisfaction. He collapsed, dead.

“Lucifer, (Y/N)!” called Chloe, running into the room from the stairs. (Y/N) stared at her and glanced at Lucifer, still with his back to her. “Lucifer?”

He turned, and his Devil Face gazed back at the Detective’s wide eyes.

“It’s all true…” she breathed.

“Detective?” asked Lucifer.

“It’s all true,” said Chloe, her voice shaking.

Oh, no.

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