first sentence game
 Tagged by @voxofthevoid đ
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, donât be shy and share anyway.
Iâm doing a mix of posted fics and wips, bc why not.
In reverse chronological order (for wips based on when I plan to finish/post):
1. Travis doesnât recognize the guy in his face running through all the stupid protocol questions heâs done a million times. (tknp concussion angst, wip)
2. TK is halfway through a story when he stops, frozen, mouth hanging open, Law staring at him like heâs a fucking idiot, people awkwardly shuffling around them. (tknp, thirsty airport meet cute au, wip)
3. Nolan tries hard to project an aura of âresponsible adultâ as he walks into the schoolyard. (tknp, school pickup thirst au, wip)
4. Normally they leave him alone when he gets like this, let him suffer in silence for a minute until he gets his shit together enough to address the team, say something to bring everybody back together, refocused and leaving the last period behind. (sidgeno d/s fic, wip)
5. Patty holds his breath when the text comes through from his agent with a link to the article. (tknp, patty retires fic, wip - hopefully my next to post but still a ways out!)
6. Sidâs happy, watching his team trail into his house with their wives, girlfriends, and kids. (sidannageno, canât help it i want you, posted)
7. Allison watches as Cora grips a canvas bag she doesnât recognize, twisting the handle in her hands. (allison/cora, letâs get lost, posted)
8. âTheyâre never gonna go away,â Stiles says, out of the blue, while heâs chopping veggies for a salad and Stiles is stirring a pot of pasta sauce on the stove. (sterek, i know places, part of stiles gets migraine âverse series, posted)
9. Allison hears someone come into the bathroom and figures itâs probably Lydia waiting to corner her about some party this weekend. (allison/erica, pink like the truth you canât hide, posted)
10. TK drags Patty by the hand through the woods until she stops bitching about TK making her hike and starts taking in the beauty around her. (rule 63 tknp, she, posted)
No pressure tagging @jbarneswilson @munsonboy @lostcol @onward--upward @librarian-von-sassypants
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I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds đ Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?
I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).
Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!
My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel đ„°)
Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!
Wrong Number
Sylus x Reader đ©ž
Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...
Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry đ)
Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having âšfunâš)
| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
âMr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistakeâ almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!â
Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. Heâs been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.
âSay that again,â he drawls with a sinister smile.
âIt was an honest mistake,â the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. âIt was almost indistinguishable from aââ
âAlmost indistinguishableâŠâ Sylus confirms. âAlmost. Almost.â Heâs savouring each syllableâ tasting them like wine.
âIt would have fooled almost anyone!â
âAlmost anyone?â Sylus laughs, and itâs a wicked, dangerous thing. âWell yes, I rather think thatâs the point. But it didnât fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.â
His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.
âPlease, Mr. Sylus!â the dealer pleads, desperate. âIâll do anything! I will! Iâll make it up to you!â
âNo, thanks.â Sylus studies his palm as it heals. âIâve had my fill of fake protocores.â
âSylus!â
The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealerâs limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. Heâs struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, andâ
Something rings.
His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylusâs spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.
âMmm?â he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.
Thereâs only one person who calls him at this time of night.
âWhere are you?â your voice echoes from the other side of the line.
âThatâs a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.â
âWhaâ Sylus?â
âYes, sweetie,â he drones.
Thereâs a moment of silence. âShit.â
Itâs not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so heâs going to let it slide. Thereâs a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.
âWhat are youââ he begins, but then he identifies the sound. Itâs a fingerâ your fingerâ jabbing away at a screen. âIf I didnât know any better, Miss Hunter, Iâd say you were trying to get rid of me.â
âNoâŠâ you deny too quickly. Itâs still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and thenâŠ
The call cuts out.
Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know heâs not a patient man, but you donât pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for youâ he tells himselfâ as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charityâŠ
His gaze drops to the dealer. âGet out,â he sneers.
The man doesnât have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the roomâs exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieranâs being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.
Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.
Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.
âHello?â Youâre back. âFinally! Where are you? I donât see you.â
âStill me, sweetie.â
âSylus?â you actually whine. Itâs adorable. âWhy is it you? Go away.â
âNo,â he lilts tunefully, and then heâs coaxing: âI want to help you, kitten. Wonât you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?â
Frustration spills from youâ fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. âThe taxi, Sy,â you whine again. âThe stupid taxi, ok? Itâs not here. Itâs meant to be here.â
âWhereâs here?â
âHa!â you exclaim like youâve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. âNo. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?â
âYeah.â
âThen leave me alone!â
Withâ he can imagineâ some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the momentâs gravitas. Thereâs a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.
He smiles to himself. Then accepts. âHi sweetie.â
Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. âWhy can Iâ wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!â
âMy, my,â he tuts, but heâs smiling still, âlook at youâ the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such⊠reliable hands.â
âWhat dâyou mean?â you mumble.
âYouâre drunk.â
âYouâre drunk!â
He chuckles. âAnd thereâs that infamous wit.â
You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. âListen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?â
His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. âYeah.â
âThen be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?â He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. âIâll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Donât go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?â
Youâre nodding away, the odd âmmhmmâ escaping your lips, but youâre not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails offâ realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. Youâre cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; youâre⊠stroking the screen?
âYouâre so pretty, Sy,â you murmur breathlessly.
His gaze softens. He sighs, âYouâre pretty too.â
Then you make a sound heâs never heard before: you squeak, the phoneâs audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcoholâs afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly youâre gone.
Thereâs a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylusâs grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesnât think itâs broken. Heâs face down, apparentlyâ subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.
âOh, shit!â He hears you gasp.
Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. Youâre turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. âSorry, Sy. Are you ok?â
âIâll survive.â He raises an eyebrow. âYou know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.â
His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with youâ a dark idea in your eyes. âWanna go again?â
Before he can protest, heâs looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.
âAh, ah, ah,â he interrupts, panicking briefly, but youâd never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. Heâs brought in front of your face again, and youâre frowning oh so sweetly. âI asked you to do something, remember?â
âYou told me to do something.â
So pedantic. âWhat did I tell you to do, sweetie?â
You donât say anything. Thereâs a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then youâre concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when youâre whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.
Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. Heâs up in a heartbeat, telling you heâs on his wayâ that you did such a good jobâ and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture theyâve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.
I'm leaving. Clean this up.
âŠ
âSo then Xavier, likeâ well, you know Xavierâ he was all, âIâll tell you later,â but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, âask Xavier yourselfâ, and I was like, âI literally just did!â, and he just shrugged, and itâs⊠driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks itâs because heââ
Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.
âWhat does Tara think, sweetie?â
âShh shh shh! Wait a secondâŠâ
You clutch your phone to your chest like itâll somehow suppress Sylusâs voice. Youâre sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.
âI donât like this, Sy,â you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. âThereâs a car here.â
âOh?â
âShh!â you hiss again. Itâs not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.
âWhat exactly are you afraid of?â Sylus asks, his tone so thick itâs practically bleeding through your phone. âIs a big, bad man trying to get you?â
âWell I donât know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and Iâ AH!â you gasp. Â
A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. âGot you, sweetie,â Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.
âSylus!â you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You donât think youâre trying very hard.
The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. âHi,â he whispers.
âHi.â For a little word, thereâs so much fondness.
âLetâs get you home to bed, ok?â
You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and youâre having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies youâ placing a hand on the top of your headâ and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and theyâre dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. Youâre not sure of anything at all, exceptâ
No-one has ever looked at you like that before.
And you wonât remember it tomorrow.
âCome on,â he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though youâre dragging your feet. âI want to hear all of the associationâs dirtiest secrets while I still can.â
âTara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.â
Sylus blinks, then laughsâ a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. âYou donât say,â he beams.
No, you wonât remember it tomorrow.
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we used to have more | oscar piastri
part 2 part 3
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: while working as community manager in formula 1 you have to follow a rule of no fraternization with the drivers, which keeps you and oscar from being together
fc: different girls from pinterest
warnings: some characters have names (because thereâs only so many y/f/n that i can use), some mentions of oscarâs girlfriend as her ex
a/n: so i have this one shot called guilty as sin? (that you should totally go read) and iâve been thinking about expanding on it a little because i keep getting ideas around the same concept so welcome to an au version of my own fic in smau format, enjoy!
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yourusername another season, another year of trying to make f1 fun for the girliesđ
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lissiemackintosh do you just casually serve face like this on a random thursday?
yourusername occupational hazards đ
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username my icon
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f1gossip mclarenâs oscar piastri was seen this weekend next to y/n y/l/n (the community manager of f1 social media) on different occasions. the people who sent us the videos said that oscar was the one that looked for her and approached her every time
tagged oscarpiastri and yourusername
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username yeah no
username pls lord let this be fake news
username he. approached. her. every. time.
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username nooo y/n is one of the f1 female icons, dating a driver would be such a setback for her đ©
username pls if she wants to date a driver then itâs her business, doesnât take away everything sheâs done for women in motorsports
username i love y/n and oscar separately, together âŠ. uhmmm
username omg my faves!!! i hope they date theyâd be so cute together đ„°
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oscarpiastri back to my roots in baku đ
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username good luck this year đ§żđ§żđ§ż
username manifesting a championship as we speak đŻ
username ugh look at him i just KNOW a future F1 champion when i see it
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landonorris đđœđđœđđœ
oscarpiastri đ
username nonchalant king!
lissiemackintoshâs instagram stories
[caption 1: milesbaldwin, declanmurray] [caption 2: yourusername my đ]
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yourusername always hustling as you can see đ§đœââïž
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username so beautiful đ€©
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milesbaldwin đ
declanmurray itâs past his bedtime
miguelsossa đ€Łđ«”đœ milesbaldwin
username i love their friendshipđ©
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f1gossip mclarenâs oscar piastri was seen this weekend with his ex girlfriend at the paddock together, emerging rumors of possibly getting back together after six months of breaking up
tagged oscarpiastri and exgirlfriend
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username not again
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username guys theyâre holding hands⊠itâs over
username my guy really lost the game of getting over your ex
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