#Sorry for how grainy these came out

[goddamnitmahtin]

The Fenton Effect

(Or that one time a few Waynes joined a polycule)

(This got really long)

Danny sighed as he looked out at the rest of the city from Tuckers office. His boyfriend had secured himself a spot at Wayne Enterprises for something something technology and his office was on like the bajillionth floor of the building. It had an amazing view though. If only there wasn’t so much smog in the air it might have been beautiful at night.

“Danny I thought you were picking up the kids today,” Tucker said with surprise as he walked in.

Danny shook his head smiling, “Sam said that she wanted Dante and Ellie to bond with her new girlfriend after school today so she will be picking them up.” He made his way over to Tucker, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I heard that you had some free time today so I could tell you away for a bit. It’s been a while since the two of us have had some time to ourselves without children running around.”

Tucker eyed him suspiciously, “Did you call my boss and ask to take me out for a bit?”

Danny chuckled, “Maybe…” He sat down in a chair, “Well actually I was going to steal you anyways but I just happened to bump into Mr. Drake. He recognized me and told me that if I were to steal you for a bit he didn’t see anything.”

Tucker sighed, “Danny, you and Sam are always stealing me from work for dates, eventually I’m going to get written up!”

Danny pouted in response, “We only do it when you insist on double shifts for week. It’s almost like we miss our boyfriend. Besides if Me CEO agrees with me that you work too much, that’s saying something hun!”

Tucker thought for a moment and then looked back to Danny, “Okay. Let’s go out for a couple hours.”

Danny hopped out of the chair again, “Yay! There’s this new restaurant I found that is supposed to have amazing steak.” He took Tucker’s hand and led him out of the office.

“Mm you know how to treat a man don’t you?” Tucker said in response, letting Danny pull him along.

“I try,” Danny said back wiggling his eyebrows as they went to the elevator.

…

Jason sat on his bike. He wasn’t in his Red Hood gear at the moment since he was just doing some recon. According to Tim, there was a newer family in town that he needed to look into. Apparently one of his employees had a boyfriend that appeared to be an un registered meta of some kind. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem but there was also the detail that when Tim did a background check on the family, it came up that they had two children neither of which had birth certificates or adoption papers or anything. Like they had appeared out of nowhere. Though Tim doubted it, he had still sent Jason to check it out in the off chance trafficking or some other fishy shit was going on.

He looked at the photos Oracle had provided of the targets he was looking for. Two of the 3 were supposed to be arriving at this restaurant soon. An African American man, the one working for WE, named Tucker Foley. The other… well this was interesting. When Jason went to look at the photo of the other man he was looking for named Daniel Fenton, he noticed the photo was grainy and distorted.

“Babs why does this Fenton guy’s photo look like a horror movie filter?” he said into his comms.

“That’s the best I can provide you with Jason, I’m sorry. All photos anyone takes of him are like that. I tried to clean it up the best I could. The last known photo of this guy without distortion I can find on public domain is from a yearbook photo when he was 14,” she responded.

Well fuck okay. Something was definitely up.

“Could you send that yearbook photo my way? As long as the guy hasn’t made any drastic changes to his appearance like dyed his hair or some sort of Botox I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out,” he said softly as he didn’t want the car that pulled in next to his bike to hear him.

“On its way,” he heard from Babs before he started to pretend to be scrolling through his phone while the occupants of the car got out and entered the restaurant.

While on his phone he noticed a new message from Cass. She had met up with the woman of the family he was tracking. They had gone to the primary school to pick up the children and was on their way to get ice cream.

The message was followed by a selfie of herself holding hands with a goth woman with purple eyes and black hair. Jason recognized her as Samantha Manson from the third profile Babs had given him. On Samantha’s shoulders was a little girl with dark hair and blue eyes, laughing and reaching for the camera and at the woman’s side holding her hand was a small boy who looked the same age as the little girl who looked almost like a carbon copy of her. Probably twins. He was waving to the camera.

Jason immediatly noticed slight distortion around the children in the photo. Similar to the distortion from the Daniel Fenton file but not nearly as extreme as he could still identify the children in the photo if he were to see them out and about.

He sent Cass a thumbs up in response.

“I’m assuming you got the message too?” He spoke into his comms.

“I did. Looks like the kiddos might be whatever kind of meta this Daniel Fenton is. They do both carry his last name,” she responded.

“And his face…” Jason said as he pulled up the yearbook photo Babs sent him, “Are we sure these aren’t just his kids? Who cares if they weren’t properly documented, that kind of stuff happens all the time in small towns. Have you ever seen Clark’s papers? A fucking mess.”

He heard Oracle sigh, “I have unfortunately. I would be inclined to believe your theory except for the fact that based on their ages, they would have been born when Fenton was 15 but according to my records and from what I can get from Tim, Fenton is more inclined towards men.”

Jason scoffed, “Is that it? That’s not much of a reason at all. People experiment. I’m into guys too but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a few girlfriends before figuring that out.”

“AND,” Babs continued (Jason had apparently interrupted her), “There’s also the bit where based on the DNA samples Cass has picked up from the kids and Tim has picked up from Fenton, all three of them have 100 percent identical DNA.”

Jason paused. If the DNA was all identical, how is it that two of them are male and the third is female? That wouldn’t be possible without some external fuckery. Not to mention two identical children who only have the DNA of one parent and not the other? This was definitely not right.

“Are you convinced we should look into it now?” He heard Oracle’s voice say into his comms.

“Yeah yeah I’m gonna poke around,” he said while hopping off his bike, “Let me know if anything else comes up.”

Jason ruffled a hand through his hair, took a fucking breath, and walked into the restaurant.

…

Sam wasn’t nervous…. no not at all. She was just taking her kids to get ice cream after school. With a really pretty lady….

Sam had met Cass a few weeks ago at a small cafe when she was stopping by to get Danny a coffee since he was holing himself up in his workshop for two days at that point and she was hoping the smell would tempt him out of his hole. The two of them got to talking, well signing, while waiting in line and they had hung out a few times since then. Danny and Tucker made fun of her crush but who wouldn’t crush on such a beautiful lady?

Now they were standing in line for the ice cream cart in the park. Not many people went to Ivy’s park but that just made it better for Sam because the line was never long. Besides, None of the plants ate you if you respected them and the ice cream was guaranteed to be Ivy Approved which meant it was ethically sourced.

Currently, Dante was signing to Cass (Cass had told Sam that they didn’t need to sign back if they didn’t want to but Sam had told her that signing was an important thing she wanted the kids and herself to get better at) about his new favorite star that Daddy taught him about and Ellie was playing with one of Ivy’s safer sentient plants. Sam kept an eye on her.

“Now what did I say about the plants at Miss Ivy’s park Ellie?” she called.

“I can look but no touch unless Miss Ivy says so,” Ellie called back, smiling. She seemed to have made a friend with a rather large flower.

Sam nodded and smiled when the child remembered.

She then felt a tap on her arm and looked to see Cass signing, “Not many people come to this park, you seem to not be afraid of the rogue who has claimed it?”

Sam shrugged and signed back while she spoke, “Poison Ivy may be an extremist but I respect her want to preserve natural flora and fawna. My boyfriends and I have already decided that we want to teach the children to respect those things as well since they are important for the health of the people and the Earth. So we come here since Ivy does not have anything against innocent children but if one of them were to misbehave with a sentient plant, they would have an easier time understanding why it is wrong because Dante and Ellie have higher empathy than most.”

Which was true. But also the reason it worked so well is because since the plants were kind of sentient, Ellie and Dante could tell if they accidentally killed one and it made them sad enough to not want to hurt them. They found that out on accident once and since then the children have been strangely fond of the park. But she wasn’t going to tell Cass that.

Sam was nervous that Cass didn’t like that but honestly they were her children and Cass didn’t seem opposed to the park in the first place when the kids suggested it.

After a few moments Cass nodded in response and signed, “Boyfriends? As in plural?”

That was not what Sam was expecting her to ask and it made her blush in embarrassment that she hadn’t explained it sooner. “I am polyamorous. I have two boyfriends. The three of us raise the children together,” she signed although he had a hard time remembering the sign for polyamorous so she ended up spelling it out.

“You all date each other?” Cass signed, curious.

Sam smiled, she didn’t seem to be judging her lifestyle which was something she didn’t find very often. It was part of the reason they had to leave Amity Park in the first place. It was helpful when Tucker got the Timothy Drake scholarship which was a full ride for Computer Science and Engineering at Gotham University.

When they moved into Gotham after that, they weren’t allowed to live on campus with him so Sam and Danny had to start out in a small apartment near Ivy’s Park so they always kept some plants in the window for protection since they had children of course. Since then, Sam had gotten a job as a personal assistant for some rich woman her family was friends with and Danny was working part time at as a bartender during the night shift and was a stay at home Daddy during the day until the kids were old enough for school.

When Tucker graduated he was immediately hired on at WE and not long after that, they bought their much nicer house in a much nicer neighborhood close to Wayne Manor. Was it mostly Tucker’s salary? Admittedly yes, WE pays very well to ensure the employees live in good neighborhoods. But Sam made quite a bit as well and since Danny got the space to tinker with his gadgets and quit bartending as often (he still did it occasionally when his old boss would ask), he had started making a good amount selling his one of a kind clocks mostly. Sam just knew Clockwork was so proud.

Sam signed as she spoke again, “Yes, Tucker is bisexual and Danny and I prefer the term pansexual. We are all together because we are poly (spells it out), and we are open to any of the three of us dating others as well as long as we all discuss and we are honest. Because we have kids we want to make sure our bond and trust is always strong. We want to be together for a long time. See the littles grow up and all that fun stuff.”

Sam was excited to talk about it with someone other than her boyfriends or Jazzy on the phone. No one ever actually wanted to listen about that stuff because people didn’t like things they didn’t understand right away.

They were at the head of the line now though it was going to have to wait until after they got their sweets. Sam corralled the kiddos and asked them what they wanted. Dante and Ellie decided they wanted to share a sundae and Sam ordered herself the Ivy recommended option of the week. She also offered to pay for whatever Cass ordered but before she could, the woman was already paying for everyone.

Sam lead the kids to a park bench where they all sat down. Ellie and Dante immediately started to rock paper scissors for the cherry on top and it wasn’t long until Dante tried to cheat and Sam confiscated the cherry so they wouldn’t start fighting. She didn’t need them to accidentally use their powers in public.

“You didn’t have to pay,” she said, “But thank you.”

Cass smiled and very softly said, “It’s okay. I like you.”

Sam’s cheeks burned. Cass had told her that she did speak sometimes and that her mutism was selective but she didn’t expect her voice to sound so… pretty.

…

Jason immediately found the targets in a corner table. Most notably a corner table that Fenton had a view of every exit from. Only people who are used to either defending or fleeing at a moment’s notice did that. It wasn’t helping the theory that something was going on.

Fenton hadn’t changed much from the highschool yearbook photo. He looked slightly taller and he had slightly broader shoulders than before but overall the guy was still lanky and thin. His hair was still dark and he still styled it in a similar way. His eyes were still huge and round on his face. The most noticeable difference to the photo though? Danny was much MUCH paler. Almost like a walking corpse. And the eyebags were hard to miss.

Jason sat himself at a table within earshot of the two, ordering himself a beer and some appetizer he didn’t actually read. He was much too focused on listening.

For the most part, it seemed pretty normal stuff. Work, flirting with one another, commenting on the food. But then it got interesting when Foley brought up their supposed children.

“Dante told me you taught him about the dog constellation the other day. He told me Sirius was his new favorite star,” Foley mused.

A chuckle from Fenton, “Yes, he has been super into animals recently so I showed him some constellations like the dog, serpent, eagle, bull. That sort of thing. We used your old PDA to look up where they were in the sky and even pulled up pictures of some of the stars. He was floating with excitement when I showed him the Sirius star. He lost control though and Sam had to help me get him off the ceiling.”

Floating?

“I never thought I would say that I am glad that they don’t have all their tricks yet. Imagine if either of them went intangible when they were infants. I would have had a heart attack,” Foley responded.

Intangibility?

“Tell me about it! Highschool would have been a hell of a time if either of their eyes started glowing. We wouldn’t have had babysitters while we were in class,” Fenton remarked.

Glowing eyes?

“We already hardly had babysitters. I remember taking Ellie to math class,” Foley seemed to chuckle at the memory.

Jason noted all of the strange things the two seemed to be expecting of the children at some point. It was definitely not non meta human type stuff. One thing he did note though was that they seemed to have had the kids since infancy which at least boosts the chances of the children being their own and not trafficked or stolen.

Fenton got up apparently to use the restroom and Foley got up from his seat to sit in Fenton’s while he was gone. More suspicious behavior. But from what Jason could tell, out of the two of them Fenton was the one who would be the first to react. He sat with the view first and only after his leaving did Foley feel the need to take up the same position.

Jason considered leaving right then but he knew that he wasn’t going to get answers that way. The other reason he didn’t leave right away was a message from Cass.

Cass: They are polyamorous.

Jason didn’t know what that meant. He sent back a question mark.

Cass: They are polyamorous. Fenton, Foley, and Manson are all dating each other. They raise the kids together in one household with 3 parents.

Jason thought about it. That would make sense as to why they all shared one address. There was one thing though that it did open up. If Fenton was indeed dating both of the other two, that would mean that he was attracted to women. The kids biologically very well could have been his and he was simply a teen dad.

Jason: Has Manson mentioned carrying them or any mention of a mother?

Cass: No. She treats them as her own but she shows no sign of previous pregnancy. Plus neither of them look like Sam at all.

Jason: Noted. Keep me updated.

If Manson wasn’t the biological mother, it didn’t mean someone else couldn’t have been one. Jason didn’t really know how any of this polyamory stuff worked but from the way Foley was describing it, the relationship had already been established when the children entered their lives. Unless Fenton was unfaithful in some way? Jason sighed, biting his knuckles as he felt the pressure in his chest. The pits were acting up.

Jason looked up from his phone once he felt it calm down just to see blue eyes glaring at him. Fenton was standing a few feet from his table, his eyes staring directly into Jason’s soul. The man looked offended as if Jason had done something to him.

Suddenly he felt the Lazarus pits acting up again. It felt like he was shot through the chest with a spear of ice. Like… he was getting told off for saying something bad. And it felt like… it came from Fenton? Somehow?

Jason tried to make sense of it, looking at the man in front of him but he seemed to be satisfied with whatever the fuck that was and went back to his table, giving Foley a kiss on the cheek.

“You alright Danny? You glitched for a second there,” Foley said.

Fenton scoffed, “Some dead guy’s core let out a signal that pissed me off. Tried to insinuate that I cheated on you and Sam. Fucking prick.”

Jason panicked. How did this fucker know he died? Things were getting weirder and weirder and now this guy knew things about him that he shouldn’t have… he had to keep following these guys.

…

Okay so Jason didn’t get much after that. He followed Fenton and Foley back to WE from a distance. Or at least at a distance that was far enough for the pits to not act up. Ever since Fenton got close to him at the restaurant, the pits were going crazy. It was like the man made it feel different. There was no anger or violent urge. It was like he wanted to do something but he didnt really know what it was. But he knew it wasn’t hitting people like usual.

Nothing much happened and once he and Cass were recalled to the Batcave, he retreated and went to go meet B and the others. Even Tim had taken a lunch break for once to meet up.

“So what are your reports,” Bruce asked.

Before Jason could get a word out, Cass started signing excitedly and very fast. He didn’t catch hardly any of it.

“Cass, slow down a bit,” Bruce said trying his best to sign back what he knew.

Jason paid closer attention this time as Cass signed at a pace everyone could understand.

“I think Sam is really nice and a good mom. We went to the school together to pick up the twins and they were very happy children. Ellie was very bubbly and and Dante was much calmer. Sam took us to the park to get ice cream after and we talked a lot. She, Danny, and Tucker are in a polyamorous relationship and are raising the kids together. They said that they were open as well if any of them wanted to date others. They trust each other a lot and love the kids a lot. Sam had good values and was teaching the kids the same. I think they are unconventional but very happy as a family. Like us.”

Jason watched as the others nodded, some seeming to understand it more than others. Someone was definitely going to have to sit Bruce down and explain it. He was also going to ask for more of a crash course later. Probably from Cass directly. Or maybe Babs if she knew.

After a few moments of processing what he did understand Bruce turned to Jason, “And what did you find out.”

“Shit’s weird with Fenton. I’m going to go back and get more intel,” Jason stated, “But from what I got on the kids? They’ve been taking care of them since infancy. Mentioned parenting them as babies in high school. And they seem to think that they are going to develop powers. Glowing eyes and intangibility. Fenton mentioned the boy Dante being able to float already. Definitely metas.”

“Maybe we are being over paranoid. It sounds like a teen pregnancy situation in a small town where paperwork isn’t always filed properly,” said Steph, putting her hands in her hips.

Jason shook his head, “Nah that Fenton guy is fucking weird. Did shit that Bruce taught us. Made sure the table was seated in a corner where he had a view of every exit. Civilians don’t do that shit.”

“Only people who are expecting a fight do,” Tim agreed.

The entire room knew that was one of the first things Bruce taught them when it came to safety in public. In their line of work they always had to be vigilant for every possibility.

Bruce conceded, “Jason, keep following Fenton. I have some things I need to look up I think.”

…

Danny was fucking PISSED. How fucking dare that guy have the nerve to not only think that but then broadcast the insinuation from his weak ass core? He would never EVER cheat on Sam and Tucker! He would NEVER betray their trust like that!

He fiddled with his newest clock commission angrily, his core feeling personally attacked. There was a gear that wasn’t really working right and he was probably going to have to remake it but honestly he didn’t really care at the moment.

“Danny…” he heard Sam call. Her voice made his core purr, feeling the slightest bit better.

Danny leaned up from his clock and looked to see his beautiful girlfriend in the doorway, “Hi Sam.” He sighed, trying to let the anger fall away. How could he ever betray his loves?

Sam must have read his face like a book because she walked over and slid her arms around him from behind.

“You’re brooding baby,” she cooed, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“I just can’t believe that guy! The fucking nerve,” Danny growled. Though his growl didn’t have any sort of malice behind it at the moment. Sam knew how to calm him down. Physical touch was one of his love languages.

“Danny it’s been a week since you saw him on your date. And you put him in his place. I know you would never do that. Tuck knows. That’s all that matters,” she said softly.

She was right of course. But Danny’s ghost instincts were super protective and he couldn’t help it sometimes. But again, she was right. He let himself take a deep breath mostly for her benefit to show he was trying to get over it.

“Good. Keep taking deep breaths. It’s okay to feel protective and it’s okay to let the feeling subside when the danger is gone,” Sam continued to talk softly, knowing she could talk sweetly to him until he felt better.

It was working. Danny focused on letting his core relax, the danger was gone. The only entities in his haunt were himself, his partners, and his children. No threat.

Next thing Danny heard was whooshing sounds as his kiddos flew into the room, both in their ghost forms. Their hair was white and their eyes glowed. Ellie’s glowed green and Dante’s glowed red.

When Dante first transformed, Danny, Tuck and Sam were unsure if they were going to be red or green since they were red back when he was Dan. When they did glow red, Danny guessed that it was most likely because it was what was familiar to him.

“Dante found a cool rock,” Ellie said excitedly.

Dante then presented the cool rock for Danny and Sam to look at. It was purple and looked like one of the crystals Sam liked to collect.

“Where did you find it,” he asked, just to make sure they didn’t just steal it from the collection Sam kept in her room.

“It was on the floor in Papa’s office,” Dante said proudly. Ah. It must have fallen out of one of Sam’s pockets at some point.

Danny smiled, looking at his son’s pride in finding it, “Good find buddy!” He turned his head to look at Sam, “What kind of rock is it Momma?”

Sam ceremoniously took the rock from Dante and used Danny’s bright work table lamp to get a look at it, “This seems to be a purple amethyst. Good work Dante.” She smiled brightly, encouraging the excitement of the kiddos for the find.

“Purple amythest,” Ellie repeated excitedly.

“It’s really pretty Momma,” Dante said, looking at the small polished stone. Danny could feel his son’s core buzzing happily about it.

“Why don’t you keep it in your room Dante? Then you can look at it whenever you want to,” Sam said smiling and giving it back to the floating red eyed child.

“Really?” Dante asked.

“Of course kiddo,” Danny added. He felt Dante’s core give off a burst of happiness. It made him smile.

“I’ll go put it in my room!” the boy said happily and flew through the wall out of the room.

Ellie then began to pout, “How come I don’t get a pretty rock?”

“When you find one, you’ll get to keep it too,” Sam smiled, “Now I believe your Papa mentioned a Bluey marathon scheduled for tonight. Why don’t you go get your brother and maybe together you can convince Papa to make you some popcorn?”

Danny felt Ellie’s core start to buzz with excitement and determination as she nodded and flew out of the room fast.

Once Ellie was out of the room, Sam gave Danny a kiss on the cheek, “Since Tuck is watching the kids tonight, how about we go get you some more relaxed?”

Danny chuckled, feeling his core buzz. He closed up the clock he had been working on and came to a stand, facing Sam.

“More like wear me out,” he said, giving her a kiss.

“Well of course,” Sam smirked as she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

…

Jason watched Fenton for like a week. A whole ass week and he got absolutely nothing on the guy. The only times he ever left his house was for dates with either Foley or Manson or to pick up his kids. At this point Jason was positive they were his in some capacity. The DNA proved that much and he seemed like a pretty standard stay home dad. There was one time that week where after school he took Dante and Ellie to an observatory but as long as Jason wasn’t close enough for the pits to react to him he seemed like just some guy.

Jason slumped onto the couch in the first floor living room of the manor. He didn’t like being here but everyone was out busy today and apparantly someone in the family needed to be there to sign off on some sort of delivery. He didn’t understand why Alfred couldn’t just sign it but the butler had refused, insisting that Jason be the one to do it. It was so annoying.

It wasn’t like he had anything to do that day anyways. Periodically he had all his guys in his organization take a day off and he had promised them today. Not to mention he was “on rest” from patrolling after his fucking helmet broke after falling down a fire escape. Embarrassing as fuck. But he still had to wait for a new one because that was his last spare.

He just didn’t understand. On the surface level, Fenton seemed like a normal ass dude. But he knew what he felt. And knew what he heard. The fucker could tell Jason was kind of dead. And he did.. something to him at that restaurant. The pits kept pulling him toward the guy like he was some sort of fucking magnet.

“Master Jason, the delivery is at the front door sir,” Alfred said appearing out of fucking nowhere.

“Thank you Alfred,” he said as he got up to go do the stupid signing thing. Once it was done, he could jet outta there and start following Fenton around again.

Jason made his way to the front door and opened it only to find it was none other than the creepy fucker himself. The pits sparked in his chest making him squeeze the door a little too hard.

“You,” said the pale man, his eyes burning with disgust. The pits didn’t like that. Suddenly, Jason had an urge to make sure the anger on the man’s face went away. At first Jason thought that was fucking stupid but honestly… being nice might be a good plan.

Now that they were face to face in proper lighting, Jason was able to really get a good look at Daniel Fenton. Of course he knew what the guy looked like. Obviously. He had been stalking him. But this was the first time he had been able to really register it.

Like he had noted before, his hair was dark and he was pale as fuck. But what he hadn’t seen before was the way his hair was blacker than anything he had ever seen before, shining in places that the locks caught the light almost like little stars in a night sky. His eyes were big and bold, an icy hue that that sent shivers down the spine. He was pale of course but not in the way that made one think he had never seen sun before, more in the way that dead bodies look during funerals. All the blood drained from the body. His cheekbones were sharp giving his face a sunken in look like he was malnourished even though Jason fucking knew he wasn’t. His stature was lean and lanky but clearly he was hiding some muscle because he was carrying a big ass clock that no doubt weighed a shit ton like it was nothing.

Jason hated to admit it. He really did. However. Daniel Fenton was attractive.

…

Danny couldn’t fucking believe it. That dead motherfucker was a Wayne. His core buzzed with anger and he had to take a breath to calm it.

“Yeah it’s me,” said the asshole.

Danny sighed and maneuvered the clock into one arm and gave paper to the guy, “Just sign it.”

Now after doing this he realized that casually holding a heavy ass clock like a football was not the normal thing to do since the man obviously took note of it as he stared a little too long before taking the sign form. However, he already made the decision and he was gonna have to stick to the bit.

Once this guy signed the paper and took the clock he could just leave. Just fucking go. And he could make a note to never take a commission from this address again so he wouldn’t have to see him again. He could do that.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened,” the really fucking large man said as he signed the paper. Danny checked the guy’s core. He was being genuine. And it was also giving off confused vibes. Ancients, why- This guy didn’t even know what he did. Fucking of course. Ughhhh and now because Danny was a good person he was gonna have to explain it to him. Fucking great.

Danny sighed, “It’s… fine. Where do you want me to install the clock?” He wasn’t going to talk about this shit openly. He could do it once they were inside.

The man seemed confused but let him in anyways, “I don’t really know where B wants it. For now I guess you could put it on this table over here.”

Danny noted the small table in the entrance hall and put it down where he was told to. Once his hands were free, he collected the sign form from the man and folded it, storing it away in his back pocket.

“Now, I assume you have a shit ton of questions,” he said.

The tall man nodded, “So fucking many.”

A butler escorted them to a sitting room of sorts and disappeared again without a sound.

“Are you okay with him possibly overhearing any information I give you….” Danny realized he didn’t actually know this guy’s name.

“Yeah that’s fine,” said the man, sitting in a chair. Danny decided to sit across from him on a couch. It was off putting how docile this guy was acting with just how fucked up his core seemed to be.

“My name is Daniel Fenton. You can call me Danny. It seems you were never really explained to about this whole being dead thing,” Danny started. He didn’t really know how to go about this. With Dante and Ellie it had always been free knowledge for them to ask about whenever they needed but there was no sit down conversation where he had to like, reveal their identities or anything.

“No. I wasn’t aware there were rules,” the man said, a smile tugging at his lips at his own joke. Now normally, Danny would laugh at that. Because let’s be honest, he would. But he was a bit caught up in realizing that this guy he spent that last week hating was fucking huge. Tall as fuck. At least 6 foot. And his wingspan had be just fucking outrageous. His shoulders were wider than Danny’s front door at home.

Once he noticed that, Danny took an actual good look at the guy. His hair was black mostly, with a signature white streak in the front, no doubt a side effect of dying. It seemed to be a permanent feature rather than something brought on by transformation like for Danny and his kiddos. His eyes were blue, a solemn almost sad blue but they were still very beautiful. He had eyebags for days, probably didn’t get the proper nutrition very often only eating human food with no ecto in his diet. Sleep was probably not a thing either. He was nothing but muscle all over, no doubt an effect of him dying and then getting better. He was covered in scars as well that looked as though they healed a little too quickly to be proper. All in all, everything pointed to gaining the very sliver of his ghost powers without any of them making it to the finish line. Even so, he was the type of guy anyone with eyeballs would swoon over.

“Mr…… Wayne?” Danny guessed. He immediately felt the man’s core recoil in disgust. Okay so not Wayne.

“Todd. My name is Jason Todd. My dad is Wayne. Not me. Just- just call me Jason,” the man said quickly.

Danny nodded and redirected, “Jason, before I start explaining all this stuff, when did you die and how come that’s not the case anymore?”

He again felt Jason’s core want to pull back but none the less he still answered, “I was… I don’t know? 15-16? I don’t fucking remember it was a while ago. Anyways, apparently I got revived by the Lazarus Pits so I was only dead for like 6 months or something.”

Danny nodded solemnly. He knew what it was like to die young. And of course Jason’s core and ghost powers were all fucked up. Those pits were nothing but a shit ton of toxic, contaminated ecto. He wasn’t surprised that when given the chance to create a halfa they would do it in the shittiest way possible.

“Okay so basically, you’re gonna want to buckle in cuz this is about to be a lot,” Danny said, making himself comfortable. They were gonna be here a while.

…

Tim paced his office. Back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth. This was a bad idea. Yes, the Fentons had been cleared but it was still a bad idea. To be honest, he didn’t really want to think about the fact that his favorite employee had been searched by his family for suspicious behavior a month ago.

Yes. His favorite employee. Tucker Foley. Not just his favorite employee but the best one who had never turned in a report late or found a problem he couldn’t fix. Technically his name was Tucker Fenton but the name change wasn’t official yet. Polyamorous marriage was illegal so the family had to send in papers to change their names legally so they would share a last name with their children.

Tim had been eyeing Tucker since he met him which was honestly far too long after he had joined the company. He had been so busy that he had never actually seen the guy face to face until he happened to pass his office and saw the man dutifully typing away at his computer.

He remembered just how immediately he noticed the attractiveness of the man and at first was sad to hear he was in a relationship. He thought he was with a woman named Sam at first. And then a few weeks later he started seeing Danny in the office too. Tucker was poly. Had two partners. And two children with them. A family man.

Then his family started tracking them all and it gave him an excuse to hang around Tucker at the office as much as possible. Of course he only ever got normal vibes from the guy until he noticed some background tabs running on the PDA he used alongside the desktop the company provided.

Of course Tim found time during a date Danny and Tucker went on for lunch to snoop through it. The tabs were all mostly data except one that was in the process of breaking down a government firewall with a prewritten program. Some organization called the GIW. Tim looked through the rest of the computer. There were files on Tim and the rest of his family. Files on WE. Files on the company’s funding and where it all went. He had done his homework before taking the job clearly.

Of course it all looked suspicious at the time. But things had changed since then. Danny Fenton had sat Jason down and explained a lot of things. Who they were, why they were in Gotham. Who they used to be. It made alot of sense.

And it made sense why Danny readily shared the information so freely. After Tim found the files on the PDA, of course he hacked it and sent it over to Babs. After Jason made a fool of himself at the restaurant, the PDA started having files added to it. Of the Bats and the birds. And a very well written and polite file stating that Tucker knew his PDA was fucked with. The vigilante files were his way of telling everyone he knew who they were.

So the Tucker guy was fucking smart and didn’t really give two shits about computer privacy. Now any normal sane person would have found this very concerning but for Tim it only fueled the highly inappropriate crush he had begun to develop on the guy. How hot is it that the guy was cordial enough to write a file detailing that he knew they were watching him and that he was honored to have been hacked?

So… there Tim was in his office. Pacing. He was about to do the craziest shit. He was about to ask out the hot guy from the tech department. Was it a good idea? No. Absolutely not. This guy was about as crazy as he was. Oh but he liked that. He really fucking liked that. He also loved the tracker he found in his shirt after stopping into the guys office to give him some paperwork. It had taken him about a week and a half to find it and since Tim only had 3 shirts he wore to the office, he wore it around alot in that time.

After that, Tim left his own tracker in Tucker’s PDA only for Babs to find a new file on it that simply stated, “Found it.”

How fucking hot was that? He found it in no time even after Tim had taken the time to make sure it was inside the thing. Since then they had been placing trackers on one another whenever they passed, taking turns and making sure the other knew when they had found it. Tucker was always faster. He had yet to take longer than 24 hours to find it no matter where Tim hid it. It was like the hottest kind of flirting Tim could fucking imagine.

So… now that Tucker was cleared of any suspicion, he was free game. When Cass told everyone in the Batcave that the relationship was open to other partners, he nearly had to turn around in order to hide the excitement from his face. He kept his cool though, obviously, he was a professional.

He didn’t mind Tucker Fenton having other partners. He didn’t mind that he had kids. He wasn’t the only one either. He could tell that Cass was crushing hard on Sam and sure enough a week ago, the two of them were official. Now he just had to make his move and ask Tucker out. That was all.

Tim heard a ding on his phone. He looked to see who it was. Barbara.

Babs: New file just got saved to the Fenton PDA.

Tim’s heart raced. Tucker had probably found the tracker he had slid under his collar during their meeting that morning.

Babs: You two really need to bone, this is getting ridiculous.

Tim: WHAT DID THE FILE SAY BABS

Babs: I didn’t open it. The file is literally titled “For Tim Drake (if anyone else opens this I’ll make sure a virus melts your software)”

Hot.

Tim: Pull it up on my desktop.

Babs: On its way you sicko.

Tim rushed to his computer to see a file open on the screen. It was a google doc that Tim was given permission to edit. At first, the doc seemed blank but he knew Tucker well enough now that he knew that there was more to it.

He used his mouse and clicked Select All and sure enough, white writing appeared on the screen. He changed it to black so he could read it properly and he found a series of dashes and dots. Morse code.

Tim felt his heart rate rise at the little game. He had told Tucker in passing that he couldn’t read Morse code but he knew how to sit down and translate it if he wanted to. And the man was so perfect he had remembered.

Tim got out a piece of paper and started decoding the message that looked to be like a poem of sorts. It didn’t take long at all. It turned out to be a series of quotes from media and literature that Tim had at one point brought up enjoying in passing.

“All we can know is that we know nothing. And that is the height of human wisdom.”

“She had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy; but her manners were excellent.”

“Knowledge is power.”

“Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror.”

“Elementary, my dear Watson.”

“O Captain! My Captain!”

“Unless I be relieved by prayer, which pierces so, that it assaults mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, let your indulgence set me free.”

“To die would be an awfully great adventure.”

Tim stared at the quotes knowing that there was more meaning to them. Knowing Tucker, there was probably a certain letter or word from each phrase he needed. He wasn’t provided with a key to solve it so it must have been pretty simple. Then he got it. And his heart raced.

He responded by calling his secretary to tell one Tucker Fenton (Foley) that he needed to send in in his schedule for the next week.

Not 20 minutes later did he see new writing on the google doc, “I’m free Friday night.” Who cared if it was a bad idea.

Tim smiled wide, texting Babs excitedly.

Tim: TELL B I CANT PATROL ON FRIDAY

Babs: Why?

Tim: IM GOING ON A DATE

Little did Tim know that the moment Barbara saw the message, she breathed a sigh of relief, “Fucking finally.”

…

Okay so here was the deal. After Danny had explained everything (including the pits actually being a core and the fact that Danny’s children were the de-aged results of cloning and timeline fuckery), he had started helping Jason stabilize his core. And Jason was thankful for that but at the same time… as more and more time went on spending his off moments with the guy, his core was acting all kinds of weird. He didn’t really know how to tell Danny about it because the last time he had tried to explain the weird pull and very odd pleased hum his core had whenever he was around Danny, the guy had waved it off as because he was the Ghost King and all that. Jason was trying to believe that was the case but now that he was in the Fenton household sitting across from Danny in his workshop… it was hard to ignore.

“Well Jason, you definitely look a lot better than a week ago,” Danny said while staring into Jason’s chest. He knew that it was because his core was supposedly around that area but with the fact that he was wearing a t shirt that had shrunk in the shitty dryer in his apartment, he was feeling a little exposed.

“That’s good,” he said clenching his fist to try and ignore the almost purring sensation his core made at the compliment.

“Just a few months and you’ve been reconstructing it really well,” Danny said continuing to stare.

Jason nodded, he had been trying to do the things Danny told him to, added pure ecto to his diet and tried being more open to listen to his core. Although most of the work had been done by Danny, placing his hands on Jason’s chest, shuffling his shattered core pieces around and trying to fit them back together. It had been a joke for a long time that he “came back wrong” but according to the literal Ghost King, it was actually fucking true.

Jason noticed Danny was still staring. His core buzzed, liking the attention. He had to try and distract himself.

“So I noticed when I came in it was awfully quiet. Normally Dante and Ellie meet me at the door,” he said, clenching his fist tighter. He had to change the subject.

Danny looked up from his chest, “Oh uh yeah. Sam and Cass are on a date and Tucker took the kids out to an escape room with Tim. So it’s uh… just us at home at the moment.”

Jason wasn’t as good at reading body language as Cass but he knew enough to know that Danny was acting stiff around him which he wasn’t used to since before they started his core reconstruction therapy.

“I get you all to myself then,” he said chuckling trying to be lighthearted. Was Jason normally this civil around other people? Fuck no. But with Danny… he really couldn’t help it. It honestly felt more like the old him before he died. Before he went all… murder psycho because he literally came back wrong.

He watched as the shorter man in front of him began to actually gain some color in his cheeks. Holy hell he didn’t know Danny was capable of that. He thought the dead guy look was a permanent thing. Jason kind of liked it though.

“I guess you do,” Danny said allowing a small smirk onto his face.

Oh. OH. Jason’s core really liked that. And it must have done one of those things where it told all the other dead people around because Danny’s smile grew wider. What Jason didn’t expect was feeling a mutual positive energy from Danny’s core in response.

Jason felt his own cheeks start to burn the slightest bit, not really knowing why.

“Actually Jason… I didn’t ask you here today just to check on your core. Or because I’m technically your king and I can,” Danny said.

Ah yeah that. Jason knew that because he was dead Danny was technically like, royalty to him. But it had never really clicked since he never acted all high and mighty like that whenever they were together. Which was a lot. But now that Danny mentioned it… he technically could have have power over Jason that he could use whenever he wanted.

His cheeks burned a bit more at that, his core reacting the same way it did before. He really needed to get more control over the sending out core vibes thing because Danny reacted to it again.

The Ghost King’s cheeks grew pink, “I didn’t know you were into that,” he said, leaning back in his chair, the motion causing light to reflect off of his hair like stars, “I wanted to talk to you because your core has been flirting with me non stop since we started your reconstruction therapy.”

Ah fuck. Jason knew Danny was hot but his core was really betraying him by telling him that.

He looked away, embarrassed. Admittedly, it wasn’t like the thought to flirt hadn’t ever crossed his mind. After Babs, with come help from Cass, really explained what polyamory was to him, he had entertained the idea once just to see what would happen but Jason very honestly didn’t know if he liked the idea himself or if it was just his core longing to be close to its king. Or at least that what he was telling himself

“Listen I’m not mad Jason,” Danny said. Jason felt cold fingers brush his cheek to turn his head to face the man. His body reacted the same way if always did when Danny touched his chest for reconstruction. Like a very pleasant bolt of lightning had stuck him, the buzz spreading throughout his body.

Jason knew Danny was a touchy kind of person and he had accepted that but god fucking damn it was still a lot of physical feeling from one touch that he wasn’t used to.

Jason had dated other guys before. He had been more than close and personal with a few. But touch was always a dull feeling when it came to anybody. Danny was the only person he could really… feel. Like back when he was alive. Every touch felt real and not disconnected. He could actually feel the pressure of a hand on his skin and the tingle of when skin brushed his own. It was… electrifying for the lack of a better term.

“I just want to talk about it,” Danny said.

Jason didn’t know how to talk. He didn’t even really know how he felt. He was running on pure instinct and LOTS of willpower to fight said instinct.

“Danny, I- don’t know how-,” Jason started, not really knowing how to communicate into words about it. Clearly he didn’t have to as he could tell his core had betrayed him again.

“It’s okay. I can talk. And if I say anything you don’t like or agree with, you can let me know. How’s that?” Danny asked. It was right about now Jason noticed that Danny hadn’t let go of his face and he was really close. His core liked that. And honestly, so did he. Jason didn’t mind staring into those big blue eyes for a bit. He nodded.

“I like you Jason,” Danny started. Jason’s core? Loved that. But Jason’s brain and probably his heart was waiting for the “but.”

“And so does my core. I think you are good for me,” Danny continued. There was no “but.” It made Jason’s innards do a fucking somersault into the splits.

“Wait you do?” Jason asked, studying Danny’s face. He was still blushing which was a good sign but sometimes you just need to be sure and double check you know?

Danny nodded, making Jason’s core buzz excitedly. Now up until this moment, Jason was very much repressing his own thoughts when it came to Danny. He was slow to catch up when it came to, well, feelings. Well let’s just say Jason was all caught up now. And his cheeks were burning as his lips curled into a smirk.

Jason felt a very strong core response from his king, full of flustered and dare he say lustful emotion that made his core and his chest burn with a desire to pull towards him.

Jason was no good with words. Terrible infact. And Danny knew that about him. So if he had any chance of communicating effectively, he had to take his foot off the brake and let his instinct do what it wanted.

“I’m about to do something stupid,” Jason warned. And then he pulled Danny closer into a kiss.

He felt Danny’s core purr in response as Jason’s lips felt like they were dancing on lightning. Everything felt right. He let his core say whatever the hell it wanted because it knew what to do. He just focused on how right right everything felt.

After they broke apart from the kiss, mostly because Jason needed air in a way Danny really didn’t, he locked eyes with the gorgeous man in front of him. Now that he wasn’t restraining himself, he was letting himself take in Danny’s beauty.

“Be my boyfriend,” Danny breathed, an icy sensation tickled Jason’s ear as Danny’s breath left the slightest bit of an icy fog in the air.

“Deal,” Jason responded, his breath catching up.

Jason’s body burned with sensation and he wondered if this was what being alive felt like and Danny pulled him into another deep kiss and hurriedly dragged him to a bedroom.

…

Extra:

Bruce at some point after all this: Where are all of my children?

Alfred: Well sir, almost half of them are at the Fenton household at the moment and the others…

Bruce didn’t even listen to the rest, he just sighed. He should have known. Fentons had that effect. He still remembered Jack from college.

[norristeria]

Miss Independent ! LN04

━━━━━━ Part of the LOVESICK IDOLS anthology!

SUMMARY 𝄡 You can buy your own diamonds and flowers, you always have. This independence is so sacred, it blinds you to Lando's need to provide.

PAIRING 𝄡 Lando Norris x A-List Actress! FemReader

TAGS 𝄡 Fluff, Angst.

WORDCOUNT 𝄡 4k.

NOTE 𝄡 The idea hit me in the face in the middle of the night & I knew I had to get the words out before they vanished. I don't know if I like it, it's quite messy ( & not as poetic as Thy Trophy, I fear⏤I'm keeping all my pretty metaphors for another fic lol ) but oh well! This is not proofread so if you see a typo, no you did not... Enjoy!! <33

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

It all began with the bouquet of peonies.

Paris’s avenues stirred to life with the coming of spring, perfumed by the powdery scents drifting from adorned Haussmann balconies and overflowing flower stalls. Color, in all its revelry, reclaimed its dominion, dazzling eyes long dulled by winter—a resurrection both olfactory and optical, which served as a gentle reminder that Hope would always prevail.

Even the blinding fabrics of the archival pieces chosen by your stylist could not compare to Mother Nature, who had woven her finest tapestry the moment April’s soft sun had peeked through the clouds.

The prosaic birthed Beauty, and what could embody both better than a bouquet of flowers?

There, tucked on a side table in a corner, the peonies reigned. You had spotted them the moment you had walked in, and since then, they had haunted your gaze and mind.

Pink and violet blurred at the edge of your vision. Whenever the stylists were not looking, you would breathe in, hoping to catch their delicate scent, but were left only with frustration and the stiffness of your stance atop that damned pedestal.

You had been invited to yet another dinner—something of the “upmost importance,” according to your agent—and now you had to decide on a dress.  

Not on sunlit café terraces, nor in the gardens of the Tuileries, no, but here, in a showroom lit by artificial light and chilled by aggressive air conditioning.

Since morning, people had poked and prodded, measured and tightened corsets, adjusted layers of tulle and silk. More doll than human, you suffocated in the vast white hall of the 30 Avenue Montaigne, longing to trade its sterile walls for the breezy avenues of the 8th arrondissement.

Your gaze drifted again to the peonies, and you sighed.

Spring would have to wait.

Suddenly, your phone rang. The chime cut through the whispering—though not-so-discreet—remarks of the stylists, their brutal musings on the shape of your hips or the width of your arms.

You silently thanked whoever had called for silencing them, even if only for a heartbeat.

Unable to move—a stylist was pinning lace across your torso—you asked your assistant, Marguerite, to bring the phone to you. When you saw the name written on the screen, a breathless smile spread across your lips.

“Hello!”

“Hi, my love,” came Lando’s weary voice.

“How’s Japan?”

You heard the rustle of bedsheets through the speaker as he shifted. Night had long fallen in Suzuka, stealing away the euphoria of race day and leaving only its ghosts—the stress, the nerves, the doubt.

“It’s fine. It’d be better if you were here, though.”

You winced, guilt flaring sharp in your chest. You closed your eyes.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry... I’d rather be with you than do these stupid fittings.”

You ignored the scalding looks from the stylists.

Lando did not reply. He sniffed. Your heart broke.

How you wished you could pick up its pieces, but the corset pressing against your ribs held you prisoner in your pain.

You dreamed of following Lando across the world, cheering from the paddock instead of watching grainy videos shared online. But your career came first—whether you liked it or not. Your agent made sure of that.

Such was the price of passion: loving by proxy, surviving on scattered calls and whispered promises.

The gods had not been kind to you. They punished your love, destined to transcend physical laws and only exist on different time zones.

His breathing echoed in your ear as you searched for a distraction, something to take his mind of the weekend. He rarely called during races—it reminded him too much of your absence in the McLaren garage.

You knew this call meant more. It was flare in the dark.

Your eyes swept the room once more and found the peonies. They would do.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, perhaps a little too brightly. “Dior has the most adorable bouquet of peonies I’ve ever seen. Hold on, I’ll send you a photo!”

You snapped a picture and sent it before he could say a word.

“Don’t you think they’d look perfect in the apartment in Monaco?”

The apartment. Not yours. Just another in-between you lived in. Not quite London, not quite New York. Not quite Monaco, not quite Paris. Such was the life of an actress, a never-ending wanderer.

“I trust your taste more than mine,” he said.

You nearly cried when you heard the smile in his voice. One spark of joy in Lando was enough to ignite your own. They had grown so rare these days, each one deserved celebration.

The start of the season had been rough, and it had not let up—even with the glory.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown, especially when your name is Lando Norris, and the internet has decided to make you its scapegoat.

You spoke of anything and everything, trying desperately to pull him from the darkness, though you knew—traitorous and stubborn as they were—those thoughts would crawl back to him later, whispering their lies in the night.

Minutes passed. A seamstress pricked you five times. Then came the question, sudden and soft.

“Do you think you could make it to Bahrain? With the triple header, we won’t see each other for another two, maybe three.”

Despair bled into every word. But you didn’t hear it—Marguerite was trying to tell you something. You bent toward her, the corset biting into your waist.

“Hmm?” you asked distractedly, straightening up. “Ouch!”

The stylist apologized, trembling, needle still in hand. You sighed and waved her off.

“Sorry, Love,” you said. “Marguerite was asking about my lunch order. What were you saying?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

You wanted to insist, but he beat you to it.

“I should sleep. Jon will kill me if I don’t. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course. Good luck for tomorrow. Dream of me.”

“Always.”

You hung up.

An hour later, after endless fittings and the final selection—a Spring 1998 gown—you said your goodbyes, promised Marguerite to update her on your whereabouts, and stepped out onto Avenue Montaigne, bodyguards in tow.

The peonies had colored your thoughts, and you were determined to bring a piece of Parisian Spring back to Monaco.

Your flight would not leave till late afternoon, leaving you enough time to find a florist. Luckily, you did not have to walk far. Monsieur Dior had loved flowers, and the whole neighborhood bloomed for him.

The chime of the shop’s bell greeted you. That small melody lifted your heart, though you couldn’t explain why.

You saw them instantly.

An explosion of color rather than a mere bouquet, the peonies demanded attention. You imagined them in your white-walled Monaco living room, an impressionist painting come to life, and did not hesitate.

You pointed to them, all smiles. The florist quickly wrapped them in tissue paper.

“That’ll be two hundred euros, please.”

You did not blink and paid absently, already lost in the scent of the blossoms. They wrapped around you, filling the hollow Lando’s absence had left.

Your phone rang again, just as you stepped outside. You frowned.

“You’re not asleep?”

“Can we FaceTime?” Lando asked, ignoring your question.

“Of course. One sec…”

You fumbled for an angle, nearly dropping the bouquet. The peonies spilled into the frame, half-hiding your face.

“Oh... you bought them?” His voice was unreadable.

Odd, you thought.

“Yeah! I couldn’t resist. I hope they survive the jet ride, but I don’t see why not! What do you think?”

“They’re beautiful. Not as beautiful as you, but close.”

You snorted.

“Flatterer.”

A silence.

“Are you okay?” you asked gently.

He sighed.

“Nervous. And I can’t sleep without you.”

“You have my hoodie, don’t you?”

“Not the same,” he mumbled. “And your scent’s fading.”

Your heart clenched.

“I promise I’ll talk to Christopher and my agent. Maybe I can free up a Grand Prix weekend. Miami? I’m not due back in Sicily until mid-May.”

Paris blurred around you. The Grand Palais, the Champs-Élysées. None of it mattered when Lando needed you.

Eventually, after reluctant goodbyes, you hung up and walked on under the bright Parisian sky.

Far away, in a hotel room in Suzuka, Lando sighed and, with a swipe of his thumb, canceled the peony order he had placed with a florist in Monaco.

Then came the restaurant.

Amid the empty plates and crumpled napkins, red circles had seeped and stained the once-pristine tablecloth of the three-star establishment. The wine bottle lay on the table, empty, but its effects were palpable.

The candles that had not yet melted cast a hypnotic glow on your face and illuminated what Lando loved most about you: your pupils, dilated from intoxicating love?

You had long since abandoned any sense of decorum. The tip of your stilettos had begun to stroke his calf, leaving Lando to grip his cutlery so hard his knuckles had turned white.

When you bit your lip, he snapped and stood up so abruptly he almost knocked over his chair.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he muttered.

But instead of heading toward the back of the restaurant, he went the other way, stopping in front of the waiter. Lando handed him his card in an agitated gesture, running a hand through his curls. His thoughts were already drifting to the warmth of your skin, the softness of your lips, the tightness of your–

“It appears Madame has already paid, Mr. Norris.”

Both the effects of wine and desire evaporated in a heartbeat, leaving him pale. His hand froze in his hair. He blinked. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“What do you mean ‘she already paid’? When?” he finally choked out.

The waiter consulted his ledger.

“She left her card earlier in the evening. Here it is.”

He slid a black leather folder across the stand. From it, a metallic rectangle protruded. Lando inwardly cursed.

The black-and-bronze Centurion card, a symbol of wealth and privilege.

Now his nemesis.

Lando snatched it up. An intrusive thought crossed his mind as he held it in his large hand. What if he broke it? He’d pretend it was an accident, of course, but this temporary setback would give him the chance to finally, finally, provide for you.

He shook his head and returned to your table. The card dug painfully into his palm, a sharp reminder of its constant, unbearable presence.

You looked up when you heard him approach, a seductive smile painted on your red lips, completely unaware of the storm rising inside him.

You gaze dropped to his hand, which you admired for a few seconds, then lifted back to Lando’s now-dull green eyes.

“You got my card?”

He sighed and handed it back to you.

“Let’s go.”

Lando helped you with your coat, his hands lingering longer on your shoulders than etiquette would’ve allowed, and together you left.

“Next time, I’m paying,” he said as you waited for the valet.

“Of course,” you replied distractedly, tracing his jawline with the tip of a finger.

Your mind was already elsewhere, on the rest of your evening and the promises your smoldering gazes had recklessly sealed. Lando’s, however, remained stuck on the matter of the bill and the uneasy feeling that had spread through his veins like poison.

Insecurity.

His movements turned mechanical as he heard the engine of his Lamborghini roar. He tipped the valet, thanked him in a flat tone, opened the passenger door for you, offered his hand to help you sit down, then slipped behind the wheel.

His large hand instinctively found your bare, warm thigh—and squeezed.

In the hollow of his palm, the imprint left by the metal card still burned.

But it was the necklace that broke the camel’s back.

The streets of Monaco held a familiarity that comforted Lando after the chaos of the triple header. The narrow lanes and tight turns—walked instead of raced—distracted him from the season and the pressure it carried. The Monaco Grand Prix was still far enough away that he could see the city as nothing more than Home.

He rejoiced in the familiar scent of the Mediterranean Sea, curiously mingled with the tang of luxury car exhaust and the heavy perfumes spilling from boutique doors. Monaco oozed opulence, and you, at his side, fit so seamlessly into this surreal world.

His gaze wandered to you, dressed head to toe in haute couture. In a giddy rush of love and admiration, he stole a kiss from your lips.

Sometimes, he still could not believe you were his.

Hand in hand, the two of you wandered through the principality, with no purpose other than to enjoy each other’s company. You had managed to negotiate a break from your current project—Christopher Nolan would not need you in Sicily for The Odyssey until the end of May.

Lando had pounced on the opportunity, inviting you to join him in Monaco. Your moments were counted; every chance was too precious to be wasted.

Eventually, your idle stroll led you to the ever-crowded Casino Square. You weaved through a sea of phone cameras and autograph requests, sunglasses on, love-drunk smiles on your lips.

“Y/N! Can I get an autograph?”

“Lando! My son’s your biggest fan!”

“Can we do a fit check for my TikTok?”

When a fan strayed too close to you, Lando pulled you behind him and, in a sudden flash of protectiveness, veered you off your usual route, his hand against your lower back.

“What are you doing?” you whispered to him.

“An Oscar-winning actress deserves a proper gift,” he replied with a mischievous glint.

He ignored your questions and wrapped an arm around your waist. Your fingers laced through his on instinct—your body recognized and sought his.

Together, you slipped away from the crowd, past terracotta and granite facades, until you stumbled upon the discreet Cartier boutique tucked into the corner of the square. The chaos outside had already begun to fade, but you both knew iPhone lenses were still quietly tracking your every move.

The rules of paparazzi didn’t apply to phones—much to your dismay.

It was funny to think that just four months ago, you would never have had to consider such a thing; still cocooned in secrecy then, wrapped in love and shadows.

Though he hated the sacrifice of privacy he had made—your little paradise now dissected by the public eye—Lando could not suppress the flicker of pride that warmed his chest.

No more misplaced hopes from admirers; he could walk beside you in broad daylight, and finally, silence them all.

“It’s been almost two months since I got that Oscar,” you teased, realizing where he was leading you. “And you’ve said the same thing every time.”

He only shrugged.

“So what?”

You laughed softly and rolled your eyes.

A doorman opened the door, ushering you into the hushed, velvety quiet of the shop. The boutique, curiously empty, felt as though it had been waiting just for you.

A man greeted you both with open arms.

“Madame L/N, Monsieur Norris, what a joy to see you again! May I offer you a glass of champagne?”

You were guided to a private salon, away from wandering eyes. Some fans would have pressed against the glass just to glimpse at a fragment of your day.

“It’s been some time since we’ve had the pleasure, Madame L/N.”

The salesman’s attention naturally fell to you, and Lando didn’t mind. You were a loyal client—draped in their creations at every red carpet, every press tour, and even in the quiet of your everyday life.

The man waisted to time to present a diamond bracelet. You slid it on gently. The stones, dazzling and vibrant, were blinding, but you remained unmoved by its beauty.

And thus began a familiar dance. A necklace, then an emerald ring, ruby earrings. Each time, you shook your head.

Lando watched you, entranced by the dhow you were unconsciously putting on, happy to offer his opinion when you asked.

“That one’s cute.”

“Oh, gorgeous.”

“Pretty.”

When he complimented yet another jewel, you delicately placed the ring back in its crimson box, raising an eyebrow at him with a knowing smirk. He knew every one of your expressions—that spark in your eyes meant affectionate exasperation.

“You’re not being very helpful, you know.”

“Not my fault you make everything looks good,” he said, glancing at the salesman. “Right, Hervé?”

“Absolutely, Monsieur Norris.”

You stared at the glittering display before you—each piece more beautiful than the last—a pout tugging at your lips.

Lando had to resist the urge to kiss it away.

“Hmm. I don’t know. Nothing really speaks to me.”

“Perhaps you might consider this one?”

Lando tuned out Hervé’s voice. He stood and walked around the room, his gaze caught by thousands of gems shimmering in the light. The luxurious kaleidoscope made his head spin.

He blinked and stopped before a particular display. The necklace inside seized his attention instantly.

“Have you tried this one yet, love?” he asked, mesmerized by the play of light across its surface.

Hervé stood to get a better look.

“Ah oui. Our Reflection necklace. Crafted in eighteen-karat white gold and set with no fewer than three hundred and seventy-six diamonds. A masterpiece of craftsmanship.”

He stood up, unlocked the case and brought the box to the Louis XVI-style table, placing it reverently before you.

Lando returned to your side, unable to tear his eyes from the jewel. The reflection of the diamonds danced across the molded ceiling and glinted in every glass pane.

He could not wait to see them against your skin.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured. “Could I try it on?”

“Of course, Madame. May I?”

With gloved fingers, Hervé fastened the necklace around your throat. The diamonds and gold sang a symphony of excess as they settled against your skin. Lando’s mouth went dry.

“What do you think, darling?”

He stammered a few inarticulate compliments, unable to look away from your diamond-clad neck.

His gaze dropped lower.

He swallowed.

“That’s the one.”

“I think so too.”

His phone rang, shattering the moment.

You cast him a sharp look before offering Hervé an apologetic—or rather embarrassed—smile. You loathed rudeness.

He shot you a sorry glance, excused himself and stood up.

“I have to take this. Excuse me.”

The call with Jon lasted less than five minutes—but it was enough.

When Lando returned to the room, Hervé was handing you a bag.

You turned toward him as he entered, a radiant smile on your face. For once, he did not return it. He did not linger on your beauty either. No. His eyes went straight to that damned paper bag.

His heart dropped and reverberated in his now-empty mind. Its echoes gave rise to a strange unease that took over him completely—the same one he had felt at the restaurant.

“We can go. I already paid.”

“What?” he asked, voice hollow.

“You were right,” you said, oblivious—or indifferent—to his torment. “The necklace was the best choice.”

“You paid?” he repeated.

“Yes. I didn’t know how long your call would take.”

Something deep within Lando finally snapped.

The male ego is a curious thing. Poke it—and brace for the fallout.

Lando clenched his fist as a plan began to take shape in his mind.

“Love, have you seen my card?” you asked three days later from your shared bedroom.

Lando, lounging on the couch, quickly shoved the said card into the pocket of his hoodie. The metal clinked against his silver ring.

“No,” he cleared his throat. “Why?”

You stormed into the living-room, one hand tangled in your hair. Stress radiated off you in waves. Lando swallowed hard as a cold sweat slid down his spine. You had a gift for making him panic with a single glance—and of the two, he was certainly not the better actor.

“Shit! I had it this morning! I saw this bag that looked really nice.”

“I can get it for you, if you want,” he offered, almost shyly.

But you didn’t hear him—too busy tearing through cushions and knick-knacks, muttering under your breath.

“It’s alright, baby. I’ll buy it for you,” he tried again, more insistent this time.

You straightened up, frowning, the catch-all bowl clutched in your hand.

“I’m perfectly capable of buying this bag myself, Lando.”

The words cracked through the air—sharp, wounded.

Way to go, Norris. That’s not how you’re going to win her over.

“I never said you couldn’t,” he murmured. “It would just make me happy to do it.”

You ignored him and went back to searching. Lando watched, mouth slightly ajar. So, you weren’t even going to acknowledge him? He called your name several times, but you stayed deaf to his pleas.

“Can you just let me spoil you for once?!” he finally burst out.

The peonies, the restaurant, the necklace—all the frustration he had buried deep in his chest bled out in his voice—an uncontrollable hemorrhage of ego.

You arched a brow and placed the bowl back on the table with a frightening calmness. The soft chime rang through the silence as you slowly stood.

“Who are you talking to like that?”

“I just–! I mean– Argh!”

Lando dragged a hand through his curls, pulling at them—a gesture he had picked up from you. Love bred mimicry. The little quirks of one became second nature to the other.

“You don’t let me buy you anything,” he said again, softer.

“That’s not true. You gave me that dress not long ago.”

“Yeah. Because it was Christmas! Four months ago, Y/N.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms. From where he sat, he could see the tension in your shoulders, the pinch of your lips.

You were angry.

“Look, I—” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It just feels like… like you don’t need me.”

The truth burned his throat. He lowered his gaze, afraid to see pity, or pain, or worse—incomprehension—in your eyes.

“That’s ridiculous.”

He exhaled, eyes shut.

“Maybe. But that’s how I feel.”

Silence fell over you both, thick and heavy. It struck him full in the chest. His heart thundered in his ears.

Why couldn’t you try and understand him? Why were you so stubborn? How long would you speak at cross purposes?

Eventually, the couch dipped beside him, and your scent wrapped around him.

“I don’t need you to buy me bags or necklaces, Lando,” you said, voice gentler now.

He flinched and his heart stung.

“But… I guess I understand why you’d feel that way. And even if it doesn’t make much sense to me…” You sighed. “Well, I suppose I can try.”

Lando looked up, chest already lighter. His pinky found yours on the cushion, and when it did, he did not let go.

You looked at him, lips pressed tight.

“One gift a month.”

“One big gift a month. Small ones have no limit.”

A beat.

You sighed.

“Fine.”

You held out your hand to seal the pact, but Lando pulled you into his chest instead.

There you stayed, quiet. He nestled into the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent—yours and yours alone—and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you earlier,” you whispered minutes later, your throat vibrating against his lips.

“It’s okay.”

You pulled away, bracing a hand against his abs. Lando tried to tug you back against him, already missing your warmth, but you resisted, determined to make your point across.

“No, it’s not. Communication is important in a relationship, and I didn’t consider your feelings, only mine.”

He cupped your face and kissed you deeply before meeting your gaze. A mischievous grin crept onto his lips.

“Let me get you the bracelet and ring to match that Cartier necklace and all is forgiven.”

You rolled your eyes but did not argue. That alone made Lando beam.

Victory tasted sweet—but not as sweet as your lips, which he kissed again. His hands roamed, and yours soon followed.

But just as quickly, they stilled.

You pulled away, eyes narrowing.

“Is that my fucking card in your pocket?”

Lando winced.

[bunny-jpeg]

and once i am home, all will be right. simon came home from deployment. usually that meant heading to the nearest pub and having a celebration with the rest of the 141, but not this time. not when he got to the airport and found you standing there at the arrival gate.

you tried your best to look for him, you knew that would be an easy task. the man would like a mountain. simon saw how you clutched onto the small bouquet of flowers you got for him as you nervously looked around. the flight had landed and the other soldiers had already found their families or taxis back home.

simon usually didn't move without thinking, everything had to be calculated for his job. that was what made him good, that was what kept him alive this long.

"lamb!" he said, in a tone a little louder than normal.

you whipped your head around and saw him. oh his sweet lamb.

the tears came quickly, your face shoved into your lover's chest. the rough parts of his jacket itched against your skin. but the tears fell. you were a quivering little mess in your husband's arms. you held on tightly like this was a strange dream.

"simon." you whimpered.

he tilted your head up to look at him and he smiled under the black medical mask he wore. then kissed the top of your head before he pulled the mask down to give you a kiss on the lips. he replied, "hello, my lamb."

"you're home." you squeaked.

"i am." he said lightly, "had to come home to you." then kissed you on the cheek. he could feel the warmth from the tears and kept a strong arm around out, "let's go home."

you were inclined to agree.

home was the same as he left months prior, he had been gone for over a year with two visits during that time. they were six weeks in total, so for over a year you only saw simon for a little over a month. everything was done through text, grainy video calls and short phone calls. days of no contact left your stomach in knots, any knock at your door left you anxious. if he wasn't coming home.

but as you held his hand while you drove away from heathrow airport and towards the flat you both shared. you held on tightly, like this was a dream. you even looked at the newspaper stand on the way to the parking garage because you couldn't read words in your dreams. but the headline of the day was loud and clear, this wasn't a dream. simon was finally home.

"did you miss me?" you asked, your eyes were still rimmed red. you still felt the knot in your chest.

"every moment. drove price mad when i kept asking when i could go home." simon kissed your hand that was wrapped in his eyes, "i'm sorry, i wasn't able to talk as much."

"you were working." you replied - this was a job. even if the presence of it felt all encompassing at times.

"don't matter." he replied gruffly, "don't wanna leave you hung up to dry. not my wife." he kissed your hand once more. and you smiled a little, the knot in your chest seemed to loosen.

reunions were always hard, even though they were moments of pure happiness. the build up of so much time apart left the first few days sour. there was crying, there was a mix up of anger, sadness, happiness and the dread that this was only a brief moment before the cycle began once more.

this was simon's life, and thus it was your life too.

but as you pulled into your parking spot and leaned over to kiss him once more, it felt right. even if you'd curse the british army until you lost your voice, being close to simon silenced that anger. he was home, he was home.

his things were left by the door, shoes kicked off and jackets over the couch. the kisses continued, the spark between you two was still there. the electric feeling that connected your souls, like an active wire. he took you and picked you up. you wrapped your legs around him and held his shoulders.

he looked into your eyes, those dark depths of his eyes. he smiled at you, the medical mask was long discarded and you could see every inch of his face. the freckles, the scars, the small dimple in his cheek, and the intense love in his smile at you.

"don't drop me." you said. simon was the only man who could ever lift you and lift you with such grace. you leaned in to kiss him on the lips once more before he carried you to your bedroom.

husband and wife, reunited. it felt good, it felt right. this was how every night should be, not you using his old sas hoodie as a pillowcase, using his old spice body wash just so you could catch that familiar scent when you went about your day.

you both ended up in bed, clothes were stripped with haste. there was little time to waste despite both of you being so tired. you needed each other, in a way that couldn't be fully described with words.

you could cry, but you urge to cling to your lover was more overpowering. you needed simon, he was gone for so long. so much time had past. both of your birthdays were missed, your anniversary, small events, even christmas - as he couldn't come home for it. time ticked away, the year went by. but he was home, he was finally home.

when he was naked on top of you. he helped you out of your bra and finally your panties before you laid under him, fully nude. his rough hands touched your sides, his eyes gazed into yours.

if heaven had a scent it would be your perfume, if it had a touch it would be your skin, and if it had a taste it would be your lips.

"i missed you everyday." he said with total honesty, "never had time feel this long." he swallowed, "thank you for staying by me. i could never repay you for what you've done. you've been my anchor, lamb. my home even when i was shiverin' my ass off somewhere. i love you."

"and i love you, si. no need to thank me."

he took you by the hips and grabbed one of the pillows from your spot on the bed. he tucked it under your hips and admired you closely, "i still will. only right." he rubbed your hip with his thumb as he held you, "you don't get a medal for bein' a good wife. so i gotta make sure you're appreciated it."

you smiled softly, "no need."

he shook his head, "don't matter if it's needed or not. i'll still do it." then leaned in to kiss you once more as he shifted your body closer to him. his cock nudged against your entrance and he soon sank himself into you.

"perfect." he said with love in his tone.

his cock fit well and you held onto the pillow udner your head. he moved against you slowly, deliberate strokes as he made love to you. this was love expressed in the most physical form.

he missed your body, he missed how soft your skin felt. how sweet your moans were. photos were nice, videos even nicer, but to have you in his grasp was unlike anything else he could ask for. this was the body of his wife, the one he pledged himself too. the one he married and knew he was going to after the first date. you completed him in every sense of the word - you took his ragged dog, this barking mutt and made him find home. comfort in the flat you shared.

his living space was not cold and bare. it was lived in. even in his absence, you still kept the home warm. and thus kept his soul warm on the coldest nights of his deployment. he kissed you as he felt the well up of emotion. the thump in his chest as he made love to you.

"i love you."

"i love you more, si." you replied softly.

after everything, heaven gave him an angel. he pressed his forehead against yours and continued to thrust up against you. he held onto the covers under you for support as he worked his hips against you.

he'd always come home to you, this was where he needed to be. this was where he wanted to be. he panted heavily as he continued to move. you held onto his strong shoulders and felt his cock hit up against all the right areas.

"never leave again." you said in a moment of heated passion.

"i can't promise that, lamb." he said softly, trying to make it not sting as much.

you held on tightly and swallowed, "i know." it was a fool's dream to ever think that. you kissed him once more as the thrusts continued. you wrapped your legs around him as he kept his pace steady.

he wanted to memorize every inch of skin, the weight of your under his palms, the heat that radiated off your flushed skin. memories to keep when he was shipped off somewhere else again.

"my lamb." he said.

you chuckled lightly before you moaned a little louder, "fuck, simon. baby."

he kissed at your neck as he continued to rut against you. the pleasure washed over you nicely. the pleasure coiled in your core as he made love to you. it felt amazing, it felt good in a way that made you pulse skip. his allure, his love for you was undeniable. he made you run hot, even with the time apart. you still yearned for him, you still desired him more than you could ever put into words.

he had that kind of effect on you, the kind of intense rush of emotions that made you only hold onto him tighter. he rocked against you, made sure that you felt as amazing as you could. the kiss you shared was heated. the love you shared was passionate yet familiar. this was your home, this was your nest. this was your everything.

"i spent every day thinkin' about ya, lamb." he said softly, "only time i wasn't was when i was in a fire fight, but when i got back to my roost. my thought were on you, always you. no other lamb could ever hold my attention the way you do."

"simon." you looked at him, the lines in your forehead were prominent with your brows knitted together, "every day?"

he nodded as he quickened his pace, "of course, lamb. always you. what was i gonna do, think about johnny?"

you pouted and before you could make a joking comment in return, he went in for another heated kiss. the love you shared was deep, it seeped into all the cracks of your soul. you held on tightly and shifted your hips to give your lover better access to your sweet sex.

"i love you, si."

"i love ya too, lamb. for all my days and all my nights." another kiss was shared as he got you closer to climax. his pace remained as you held on tighter, your nails dug into the strength of his shoulders and the kisses only grew more heated.

i didn't take much longer for you finish around his cock. you tensed up, your head up against him as you partially curled into yourself. you swore under your breath and another light i love you left your lips as you came. the feeling crashed into you like a hit and run and soon after you relaxed onto the bed and laid your arms onto the sheets.

simon hiked your hips to give him the best angle to fuck you with. he watched your blissed out expression and he licked his lips. you were so beautiful, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

he yearned for no one else the way he yearned for you. this was home for him, and he'd fight the gods and the devils to make sure that you remained his home. always and forever.

he felt the sweat on his body, he fucked you with a fever. still not too rough to harm your sweet form. he had done enough violence, he would never do it on his lover, his wife, his lamb.

"forever mine. even when we're apart." he said like prayer.

homecoming was a complicated affair, an emotional one too. but as simon held you close and finished inside of you, sealed with a kiss, all that mattered was that you were near. you were close to him, the months away concluded with you in his arms once more.

he kissed you once more as he rode out his orgasm. then as he relaxed from the post-climax bliss. he looked into your eyes once more. he admired your with flushed cheeks.

"si." you said softly.

"lamb." he kissed you once more before he pulled out and dropped down on the bed. both of you were spent from the experience, but it filled the small gaps in your heart that had only grown over deployment.

you laid next to him, you held his face. your thumb traced a scar across his pale skin. he looked tired, the photos he sent on deployment he looked like he was wearing thin with every image sent.

"what do you want for dinner?" he asked, his eyes still closed.

"let's worry about that later. for now, si. just rest." you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. he got an arm around you and pulled you to his chest. he held you the way someone would hold a teddy bear for comfort.

"alright, lamb. alright."

the reunion wouldn't last forever. you two would settle back into a comfortable cycle of life - but as always, simon would put on the balaclava once more and head off to another part of the globe.

another mission, another fight, another war. but tucked into the comfort of your shared flat, there was no war. only peace as you traced imaginary lines across simon's chest. you'd curse the armed forces till all the fight left you, but tonight, you'd simply love simon. <3

a/n: i miss my boyfriend - it's another eleven months....

[cal-flakes]

hi lover!! can we see dealer!rafe teaching innocent!reader how to do a bump pretty please 😋😋 my fav trope!!!

yes yes yes yes you fuckin’ can my love. (not proofread i apologise i am a sleepy girl rn)

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “you lost or somethin’?” a smug voice appeared behind you, causing you to flinch in fright, lost in your own mind. you peered up at him, all glossy lipped and doe eyed, just like he expected. “oh— rafe! sorry, i was jus’ seeing if i left my charger in here” you explained, a sweet smile gracing your face. his brows furrowed, yet his shoulders relaxed, simply unable to keep up the intimidating act while you beamed up at him the way you did.

“and why would it be in here?” he questioned further, eyes narrowing slightly while a smirk tugged at his lips. “oh no— i mean, i didn’t leave it in here, but sarah said she might’ve let you borrow it or something?” your grin faltered slightly, picking up on the undertone of annoyance in his voice.

it wasn’t that rafe was scary— well, he was, but he made an effort not to scare you. how could he? his sister friend who always showed up in sweet little dresses, neatly styled hair, perfected makeup. the last thing he wanted was to scare you, if anything he wanted to know more. unbeknownst to rafe, you were just as intrigued— ogling him over the kitchen island when he came back to tannyhill late at night, interrupting your and sarah’s girly nights in. always offering to help whenever he seemed stressed.

taking a step back, he reached into his bedside drawer with ease, pulling out a familiar bedazzled iphone charger. “m’messin’ with you kid, y’mean this charger?” he chuckled, watching carefully as you let out a quiet, shaky breath before quickly regaining your smile. “that’s the one! thanks rafe!” you giggled, taking the item from his hands before heading for the door. “y’know, why don’t you stay for a bit? spend some time w’me? she’s got you all to herself all the time”

your hand retracted from the door immediately as the words left his mouth, though mentally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. “well— i’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just for little while”

— before you knew it, hours had passed, the only noise in the house being the movie rafe had picked as well as your giggles. you’d found yourself laying down on his bed, head resting on his knee as he lay against the headboard.

“y’look tired doll, y’okay?” he hummed, resting a lazy hand on your cheek as you released a surprised yawn, not wanting him to think you were getting bored. “jus’ a little, s’okay though, i can stay up a bit longer..” you spoke softly, turning over to face him now.

“i’ve got somethin’ that can help” he stated nonchalantly, reaching again into his bedside drawer, this time pulling out a not-so bedazzled baggy. your brows knitted together. “whas’at?”

“you trust me?” he tested, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up slightly. “course’ i do rafe” you smiled naively, watching as he opened the bag, tapping it gently as he poured out a small pile onto the back of his thumb. “this, is everything you need”

his other hand beckoned you forward till you were within his reach, carefully pulling you into his lap, legs slotted beside his as you tugged at the hem of your dress, doing your best to cover up. “now, your gonna close your other nostril, and sniff up— hard, m’kay? you listenin’ baby?” he instructed, tapping your jaw slightly as if you bring you back into the room, noticing the vacant look in your eyes as they stared at him in awe. “mhm”

swiftly, rafe pressed his hand to the back of your head as his other came up to your nose, guiding you through it as the grainy powder made its way up your nose, an unfamiliar feeling that only made your eyes water. “s’okay doll, it’ll hit you in a second alright?” he cooed, using the same hand to wipe away the pools building in the corners of your eyes before pulling you further into him.

“not just sarah’s little friend after all, huh kid?” he smirked, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest for a moment as you both waited for the high.

[tinycoffeeroom]

just friends | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

part 2 !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍 sass cafe, monaco

👤 bffstagram, landonorris liked by bffstagram, landonorris and 59,203 others

y/nstagram dj lando came out of retirement for the night🤠

landonorris 😎 only for you xx ↳ y/nstagram i'm honoured mr norris 🫡 ↳ fan i love my besties who don't know they're my besties

bffstagram bro my tummy hurts ↳ y/nstagram i'm coming round with coffee and croissants you big baby ↳ bffstagram i love my gf ♥️ y/nstagram

fan i wanna party with y/nlando so BAD dude ↳ y/nstagram if you ever find yourself in monaco hmu xx

user ew flipping off the camera so ladylike ↳ y/nstagram idk your mum quite likes my fingers 🫶 ↳ fan ☠️☠️☠️ i love her

fan bffstagram is so hot, i need her ↳ bffstagram thank u babycakes 💗

liked by bffstagram, lilymhe and 69,928 others

y/nstagram rainy days in monaco 🌧️

lilymhe i deserve financial compensation for the emotional turmoil tfios sent me through ↳ y/nstagram don't,,, sat and sobbed my eyes out at the last 100 pages

fan how to lose a guy in 10 days... tfios... who hurt you y/n? ↳ y/nstagram hahahah nothing like that! i promise i'm all good!

bffstagram i still have a headache from crying at that book, next time i choose what we're reading for book club ↳ y/nstagram BORINGGGGG who doesn't love doomed romance? ↳ fan you guys have a book club? thats so cute 😭 ↳ y/nstagram yep! it's me, bff, kika, lily and flavy!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux and no one thought to invite me?? ↳ y/nstagram come join us babe!! ❤️

landonorris wow, didn't take you for a sappy romance reader ↳ y/nstagram there's a lot you don't know about me comment deleted ↳ y/nstagram tfios can make even the iciest bitch cry (it's me, i'm the icy bitch)

landonorris also answer ur damn texts ↳ y/nstagram sorry idk how to read suddenly ↳ fan The Lando Norris gets aired, there's hope for the rest of the bitchless community ↳ landonorris dude...

liked by fan, fan and 103,028 others

f1gossip Eagle eyed Sass Cafe goers managed to capture Lando Norris getting cosy with an unknown blonde girl. Rumoured girlfriend Y/N L/N was nowhere to be seen. Trouble in paradise for the young duo?

fan delete this rn y'all are fucking up my y/nlando chances

fan rumoured girlfriend?? i thought they were just friends ↳ fan that's what they both say, but they're always very close whenever they've been seen out together ↳ fan i'm pretty sure there was like a super grainy photo of them kissing but you can't really tell if it's either of them ↳ fan hey how about we don't speculate on people's love lives???

fan y/n has been absent from social media for like a month too ... its so over for us y/nlando'ers

fan her instagram is girlstagram! from what i could see before she went private, she posted a selfie of her and lando and they looked very close ↳ fan damn the fbi needs to hire you or smth

liked by bffstagram, estebanocon and 65,928 others

y/nstagram thuggin it out (i've listened to your best american girl 34 times today i think bffstagram is about to smother me with a pillow)

fan um who hurt my bestie ???

fan whoever hurt y/n must die at the hand of my sword

fan lando norris i am in your walls FIX THIS

bffstagram i would never smother you xx also come out of ur room it is boring as FUCK out here ↳ y/nstagram damn cant a girl go through it in peace? ↳ bffstagram absolutely not, i have wine and nibbles get out here NEOOWWW or i'm breaking into ur room ↳ y/nstagram the door is open babygirl

fan ik this is a parasocial friendship but are you ok y/n? ☹️ we love you ↳ y/nstagram oh sweetie ❤️ i'll be fine, sometimes you just gotta be a lil sad y'know? thank you for asking, ily ❤️ ↳ fan ily, take care of yourself 🥺 ♥️ y/nstagram

estebanocon chérie, i don't know what's wrong but i hope you're ok! lets grab coffee soon, flavy misses you! ☺️ ↳ y/nstagram thank u este 🫶🥺 text me when you're free! tell flavy i love her 💗 ↳ flavy.barla i love you too 💕 ♥️ y/nstagram

fan no lando like, i have one (1) fear ↳ fan do not even speak that into the universe

fan after f1gossips post, i have my speculations ↳ fan dude, if he fumbled y/n he really will be lando nowins

liked by flavy.barla, francisca.c.gomes and 10 others

y/npriv absolutely not thuggin it out lads

flavy.barla chouchou (sweetheart) 💔 that's it, me and este are taking you out for lunch tomorrow ↳ y/nstagram nooo don't let me ruin your date time!! ↳ flavy.barla nope it's already done! este's booked that little restaurant you like on pl. du casino ↳ y/nstagram le salon rose?? oh i could do a little weep, i love you guys 😭 ↳ flavy.barla we love you so so much y/n 💕

lilymhe i will hit him with my golf clubs ↳ y/nstagram i haven't even mentioned anyone? ↳ lilymhe we all know their name rhymes with bando borris ↳ y/nstagram wdym we all know? who else knows? ↳ flavy.barla ... me ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ francisca.c.gomes ^ ↳ lilynzeimer ^ ↳ heidiberger_ ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ iamrebeccad ^ ↳ y/nstagram ok ok i get it damn

kellypiquet want me to ask max to rear end him with his race car? ↳ y/nstagram as if max would ever be behind lando ↳ kellypiquet 😳😳😳 ↳ y/nstagram i may l*ve him but i am also a realist ↳ y/nstagram ok no i do feel bad

y/nstagram uploaded to their story

[caption 1: love of my life, apple of my eye, the thelma to my louise 💖 @/flavy.barla] [caption 2: damn stole my girl from right in front of me 😔 @/estebanocon @/flavy.barla]

seen by landonorris, flavy.barla and 67,394 others

flavy.barla mon ange (my angel), you know you're the only one for me 💕 ↳ y/nstagram tell that to your giant of a boyfriend :(

estebanocon i'm not a giant 😠 ↳ y/nstagram stop reading flavy's messages weirdo ↳ y/nstagram but on a real note, thank you for dinner, i really needed it ↳ estebanocon of course, i'm not sure what lando's done but we hate seeing you so sad ↳ y/nstagram who said it had anything to do with lando? ↳ estebanocon whenever me and flavy have an argument she pulls out the mitski lyrics, i know the signs ↳ y/nstagram that's different, you and flavy are dating ↳ estebanocon and you and lando aren't???? ↳ y/nstagram what? no? we're just friends ↳ estebanocon oh mon amie naïve (my naive friend) friends don't look at each other the way the two of you do

landonorris can we talk? seen

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

anyone interested in a part 2?

[dearstvckyx]

Did I even cross your mind? - JH86

After Jack cheats on the reader during a trip to LA, she finds out through social media and confronts him when he returns. His cold response breaks her, and she leaves him. Quinn comforts her, and she reveals she’s moving to Copenhagen for a fresh start. He promises the Hughes family will always be there for her. - The Neighbourhood , #icanteven

Jack Hughes x Reader (ft. Quinn Hughes , mentions of Ellen And Luke Hughes)

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, yelling, emotional distress, heartbreak

The Neighbourhood Lyrics Masterlist - ⌂

You’d always hated being apart on special nights like this—birthdays, holidays, or even just one of those late autumn evenings when the air turned crisp and you’d curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come home with takeout and cold hands.

Tonight was Trevor’s birthday. Jack had flown out to California to celebrate with the guys. You didn’t go—not because you weren’t invited, but because someone had to watch the dog and handle the repairs on the lake house while the plumber came by.

He’d kissed you on the forehead before he left and promised to FaceTime before bed.

You never got that call.

Instead, you got Twitter.

Stan Twitter was eating it up—blurry iPhone videos of Jack with some girl. Too close. Her hand on his chest. Him smiling at her like he used to smile at you. A grainy photo of them disappearing into a dark hallway in the back of the bar.

Your fingers shook scrolling through the endless reposts, tags, and shocked replies. Your heart didn’t even race. It just… stopped.

⸻

Jack got back three days later.

He came through the door with sunglasses on and a duffle over his shoulder like nothing happened. Like he didn’t blow up your entire fucking life.

You didn’t say anything when he walked in. You just waited until he looked at you.

He froze.

“Hey, baby,” he said, soft. Like he could rewind time. Like his voice alone could patch what he’d torn.

You didn’t even blink. “How was LA?”

He shrugged. “It was good. Long. I missed you.”

You laughed, bitter. Sharp.

“You missed me?” You held up your phone. The screen still had one of the videos open. Jack and that girl, her fingers in his hair. “Was it before or after this?”

Jack’s mouth parted. His sunglasses came off. He didn’t try to lie. That’s what broke you even more.

“Y/N…” he started.

“Who is she?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He stayed silent.

“Answer me!”

“I don’t know, alright?” he snapped. “Some girl. At the bar. We were drinking and—it just happened.”

Tears burned hot in your eyes. “Seven years, Jack. Seven fucking years and ‘it just happened’? That’s all I get?”

He stepped closer. “I was drunk. It didn’t mean anything.”

“It meant something to me!” you screamed. “I was here, at the lake house—our house—fixing the fucking plumbing while you were out screwing some stranger in the back of a club!”

His jaw clenched. “I said I was sorry.”

“No, you didn’t.” Your voice cracked. “You haven’t even tried. Did I even cross your mind? At all?”

Jack hesitated. Too long.

And then—God, he said it.

“Not in that moment.”

You felt like you’d been hit.

Silence swallowed the room. The kind of silence that drowns.

You didn’t cry. Not yet.

You grabbed your bag. You’d packed before he got home—just in case. The second you had confirmation, you were gone.

Jack tried to stop you.

“Y/N, wait, please—”

“Don’t.”

He tried again, voice cracking. “Don’t walk away.”

“You did first.”

⸻

It was Quinn who found you on the dock.

You didn’t mean to come here, but your hands drove you to the place that still felt like home—even if Jack didn’t anymore.

He sat beside you on the cold wood in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said finally, his voice heavy with guilt he didn’t deserve. “I didn’t know. If I had, I’d—”

“It’s not your fault,” you murmured.

He looked away, jaw tight. “You didn’t deserve that. You never did.”

You stared out at the water. The sky was dark. Quiet. Kind.

“I’m moving,” you said.

Quinn blinked. “What?”

“I got an offer to work in Copenhagen. I wasn’t going to take it, but… now I am.”

He was quiet for a beat too long. Then he nodded.

“Denmark’s lucky to have you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, looking over at Quinn, someone’s who’s become an older brother to you… someone you hoped would’ve one day been your brother in law. “I’m scared Q. I’ve never been on my own”

Quinn pulled you into a hug. “You’re brave. And you’re not alone. Me, Mom, Luke—we’ll still be here. For you.”

You broke then, in his arms, sobbing into his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to.

He just held you like family.

Because sometimes, family isn’t the one who breaks you.

It’s the one who stays when you’re shattered.

[ultravi0lence14]

ARTWORK

DEAN WINCHESTER X READER

summary: you like marking your man, and dean isn’t ashamed to show them off

the sandy shores of california welcomed your body, the slight breeze brushing over your arms and the sun beating down on your forehead. it was a beautiful day in june, and visiting a state with beaches meant you and dean going on a little adventure.

a towel was laid on the grainy surface, a small string bikini clad over your body as you laid down on the sand. dean was standing above you, shorts and a plain black shirt on as he rummaged through your beach bag.

“dean,” you jokingly whined, sitting up and leaning back on your hands. “you’re blocking the sun. how am i going to tan?”

all that could be heard was the rummaging of items in the beach bag, dean’s concentrated look peaking through the rim of your sunglasses. “sorry, baby. i just need to find the sunscreen or i’ll burn like crazy.”

a smile spread across your lips, making you cherish this moment greatly. you didn’t get moment’s like these with dean that much, and it was refreshing to feel something other than dread and fear.

though those nice feelings turned to shock when dean took off his shirt, the remnants of your night spent together the day prior displayed all over his stomach and hips like art work.

hickey’s and love bites littered his skin. whether that be on his collarbones, chest, stomach, or even his v line, they were everywhere. you couldn’t help it, you loved marking your man in the heat of the moment. but now, all you could feel was embarrassment that someone would notice.

sitting up fully, you scrambled for the beach bag, attempting to grab the second towel you guys brought. “dean!” his name came out in a hiss, and he instantly snapped his head towards you with a confused expression on his face.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, genuinely curious. you just shook your head, fingers fumbling for the towel. “you need to cover up.” your hands waved around at his upper body, and when dean caught on to what you were talking about, a large grin broke out on his face.

“uhh uhh,” he teased, hands moving to grab the beach bag out of your hand. “not in a million years will i be hiding this masterpiece of yours.”

the shame and embarrassment in your chest wouldn’t let you budge, and you swatted at dean’s hands to try and get back the bag so you could grab him a towel.

but dean was quicker, and with precision, he grabbed both your wrists in his hand and pulled you up so you were on your knees. dean ducked his head down, and he made sure that his nose touched yours as he whispered softly against your lips.

“stop that, baby.” he whispered, breath hitting yours cheek. “i love showing off my pretty girl’s masterpiece. let all the other girls know i’m off the market.”

his lips moved from your cheek to your own mouth, connecting together in a passionate kiss. dean let go of your wrists, gripping onto your hips and pulling you into him. all that shame you felt before washed away, because right now, in dean winchester’s arms, nothing was better.

and he was going to flaunt those marks off until his dying breath.

TAGS: @starzify @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @figthoughts @haunteres @h8aaz @littlesoulshine @florchids @sunsbaby @cowboysandcigarettes @rositaslabyrinth

NAT BABBLES: me and my queen @deansbeer both realized we love a sexy v line and somehow this came to form.

[mschvz]

gentlemen prefer blondes ...

I AM SO SORRY I TOOK THIS LONG TO POST IT 😭😭i've been caught up on work and uni and barely had time to paint☹️

this was my actual first try at rendering clothes and people in a semi realistic way and I lowkey hate how it came out but I'll probably redraw it in a few months or so !

the buddys/noxes are all from different episodes from the webtoon (ep 1, 18, 27, 35, 39, 42, 46, 51, 57, and from the hiatus special episodes!!) and chase is just, marylin monroe chase 🫶

i decided to put the grainy filter to try to simulate it being an old film i hope it worked lol hope u guys like it !!!!!!! ❤️

I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TO PAINT THE ABANICO NO TE PUEDO CREER😭😭😭 my bad you guys I totally didn't see it

[alotofpockets]

If the whole world was watching | Ona Batlle x Singer!Reader

Where you aren't out to the world, but a video of you and Ona starts circling social media

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

-----

When you were planning your tour, you had sat down with your girlfriend to make a schedule of important dates for her football and personal wise. While you knew you couldn’t go on tour and be there for all of them, you wanted to make sure you weren’t missing the important things. 

That planning was the reason that you were able to celebrate her birthday with her. Her teammates had planned a surprise party, and you were of course invited. You had been dating a little over a year, and her teammates had become close friends of yours in the duration of those months, so you were extremely happy that you got to be celebrating Ona’s birthday with her and the people she loved.

When you met Ona, you had let her know right away that you weren’t out to the public, that only friends and family were aware of your sexuality. She let you know that she didn’t mind, and that she valued her privacy, so not showing your relationship to the world worked for the both of you.

The celebrations were held in a secluded part of a bar, drinks were handed around, and music played loud. These girls knew how to celebrate big, so it was to no surprise that this was what they had planned.

You were having the time of your life without a care in the world, just enjoying a bit of time off. Them from football, and you from touring. With them around it felt like you were in a safe space, like you were in your own little world. 

While you were talking with Alexia, Ona came walking towards you, and your eyes immediately filled with love. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you wanted to dance.” Her voice and expression are hopeful. You look over to Alexia to see if she minded, “Go. Have fun, love birds.” 

Ona reached out her hand and helped you up, guiding you to the middle of the rented part of the bar where the girls had made some space to dance earlier. She pulled you closer and placed her hands on your hips, swaying to the music together. Your arms snake around her neck, your faces inches away from each other. Occasionally leaning in to say something in the other’s ear. 

You loved being able to be so carefree. Surrounded by people you both loved, without having to think of who was watching. Paparazzi weren't able to enter the bar, so you got to spend an evening without having to keep your eyes out for cameras.  

Well that is what you had thought at least. What you hadn’t realised was that while you had rented a secluded part of the bar, that other people in the bar still were able to look into certain parts of the secluded area.

Waking up to your phone ringing the next morning was definitely not how you had planned to start the day, but when you saw your manager’s name on your screen you sat up to answer. You rubbed your eyes before picking up the phone. “Why are you calling me this early?” Your voice is still groggy from barely being awake yet.

“I take it you haven’t been on your socials then?” You furrow your brow, “No, I was out last night with Ona’s teammates, and I just woke up from your call. Why? What’s going on?” Ona stirred awake next to you. “Sorry baby, go back to sleep.” You say quickly before slipping out of the bed.

“Yeah go on, sorry I didn't want her to wake up.” You let your manager know once you’ve closed your bedroom door behind you. “You’re good. Now what I wanted to talk to you about is a video that is going around on social media. I think it is best if you watch it first, and maybe talk with Ona about it. I will send it to you, and you can call me back later.” 

To say you were confused was an understatement, so you did what she told you. You hung up the phone and waited for her to send the video your way. The thumbnail of the video gave it away instantly, you pressed play anyways.

A grainy but unmistakable video of you and Ona dancing together, arms wrapped around each other, happy faces mere inches apart. It showed you leaning in to say something in her ear and Ona’s face lighting up after you spoke. 

You watched the video with a swirl of emotions. Surprise, nerves, anger, and worry. Both of you had been so careful to keep your relationship private. Knowing how much privacy meant to Ona, you were afraid of how she would feel about this now being on the internet for everyone to see.

The sound of footsteps heading your way pulled you from your thoughts. “What’s going on?” She said, her voice still thick with sleep. Ona sat down beside you on the couch and cuddled up into your side for some warmth. You hesitated for a moment, before you showed her the video.

Her eyes went wide as she watched the moment the two of you thought you had shared in private. You were nervous for her reaction, knowing that this wasn’t what she had wanted when she let you know how important privacy was to her. 

When the video ended Ona let out a small sigh, “Well, I guess that is one way for us to go public.” It didn’t click for you that she wasn’t saying it in a disappointed way, so you opted for apologising. “I’m so sorry, Ona, I did not mean for this to happen.”

The thought of what it meant for you made you freeze. You always valued privacy as well, and part of not coming out to the public was because you didn’t want people to focus on that, or spread rumours whenever you were even just talking to a girl, which you had seen happen to quite a few of your friends in the industry.

Ona quickly sat up and took your hands in hers, “It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong. We knew it was bound to happen at some point, and I don’t mind people knowing. People knowing doesn’t mean we have to lose our privacy.” You nodded along, happy to hear that Ona was okay.

“But what about you, Amor? How are you feeling about this?” You hadn’t really thought about your feelings on this, instantly focussing on Ona’s feelings and the fact that they invaded your privacy. 

“I don’t know.” You settled is what you settled on with a sigh. “Is it okay if I take some time to decide how I feel about it?” Ona cuddled back into your side. “Yeah, take as much time as you need. Whatever you decide, talking about it or not, I am good with it. We know what’s important, and no matter what, we have each other.”

You texted your manager that you would call her back later, that you needed to wrap your mind around everything and let it settle for a bit. She told you to take your time, just like Ona had done, and to let her know whenever you were ready. 

Since you were both awake way earlier than you were planning to be, you spend the morning cuddling up on the couch. You stayed quiet and seemed to be lost in your thoughts for most of it, and Ona hated that she had to leave for training, but you had told her you would be fine. She had hesitated before closing the door behind her, knowing that maybe some time on your own was what you needed to understand your feelings.

At training Ona had told her teammates about what happened, though a few of them had already seen the videos come by. They listened to all her worries, and tried being there for her as best as they could.

The next few days you had tried to ignore the topic at every given moment, which without your knowledge was making Ona quite anxious. You were continuing your tour again, flying out that morning. 

Before you got on the plane, you called your manager with how you wanted to handle the situation. She loved your idea and gave you the go-ahead, which you knew she would. She had been with you for years, and you had always been on the same line and had become good friends.

Ona’s teammates had noticed that she had been nervous, and that the reason was most likely the videos circling on the internet. So, they had decided to all hang out at Ona’s place the first night you were away again. 

Patri was scrolling on her phone when all of a sudden she gasped. Everyone turned to her with questioning looks on their faces. “So a stream of y/n’s show just showed up on tiktok, and Ona, I think you’d like to see this.” 

She handed her phone over to Ona, who watched the screen in disbelief. There you were on stage singing your heart out in a Barcelona jersey. The streamer stood close enough to the stage to where Ona realised it wasn’t just any bought jersey, it was a match worn one. Which meant that you had taken one from her closet. Her assumption was confirmed when you twirled around and ‘O. Batlle’ was written on the back of the jersey.

She watched with a proud smile. Knowing that without speaking on the videos it was a way of confirming the rumours that it had started, which meant that in a way that was you coming out to the public. Ona couldn’t believe that you had gotten up on stage in her jersey.

It was the talk of the rest of the evening. The mood was a lot lighter knowing that you were okay, and that the videos online wouldn’t get in the way of anything.

The moment you got off stage and had your phone again, you sent Ona a message. You couldn’t stop smiling thinking of what you had just done and couldn’t wait to share it with her.

Y/n: I should've said something before I wore this on stage, but baby, if the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you x

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

Ona: This was perfect. I'm so proud of you 💙❤️

-----

[bi-writes]

i didn't have an amazing christmas this year so i projected this onto bestfriend!roommate!simon and im sorry about it but im also not sorry about it but i tried to end it nice

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 6/?)

cw: mature language and content, mentions of past trauma, mentions of unrequited love and lack of family, mentions of death and loneliness, allusions to violence

you waited for the ringing of the call to stop. you were seated on the couch, the laptop propped up in your lap as you stared at the screen hopefully. your heart skipped a beat when the ringing stopped, a circling loading screen popping up until a grainy video came through.

simon was seated in the dark; you guessed that he was hunkered down in his room, seated on his bunk. he had his skull mask on; the plate sewn onto a balaclava, eye-black hiding most of him in the void of the terrible quality video, and you tried not to notice the mysterious drops of something against the white of his mask.

"hey, simon," you greeted him, giving him a gentle smile. simon ran a gloved hand over his head, nodding.

"''ello, luv. i know the time is bad, if...if you want to head to bed, 's alright with me."

you scoffed, "you know that's not happening. i don't care what time it is here...i always want to talk to you."

he grunted lowly, looking away for a moment at something out of your view before looking back. you moved to go sit by the window, keeping the laptop propped up as you looked outside. you could see the soft lights lighting up the neighborhood; twinkling lights, mostly in red and green, sparkling between the soft snowfall that had began to fall against the pavement.

there was something so peaceful about the moment. you could see the wind pushing the snow at an angle as it fell, starting to add a fresh blanket of white to everything. if you squinted, you could see two people in the apartment across the street, trying to build a small bike in the early hours of the morning. one of them held papers, instructions you guessed, and the other held a screwdriver and was trying to fit the two back wheels onto a base.

"how are you?" you asked suddenly, looking back down at the laptop. "you look like shit."

simon laughed dryly, "you can't even see me."

"i know you," you laughed with him. "and i know that even through the shitty camera, you're worse for wear."

he hummed, looking down for a moment.

"i've had better days," was all he offered, and you swallowed hard, trying to look at him better.

"i miss you, simon."

you said it easily. you did miss him. he was so far away; you didn't know where he was, but you knew it was far. and he did not say when he would be coming back; you suspected he didn't even know himself when he would be.

"i miss you, too, luv."

you looked out the window again. you looked at the couple again, watching one of them take a few bites of some cookies that were laid out while the other had a few hearty gulps of the milk in the glass beside them. your eyes watered a little. their house looked...full. stockings hung over a dwindling fireplace, christmas tree lights giving the room a soft yellow glow, a mountain of presents gathered under a full tree of ornaments.

there was nothing in your apartment. no lights, no tree. you never liked to keep one; you had no one to buy presents for. and simon--this day only brought the wrong kind of feelings to the surface. feelings of torture, of unexpected discovery, of death and the stench of it which couldn't be covered by lighting evergreen candles or baking sugar cookies.

so much of the day surrounded family--of which you didn't have. no one to visit, no one to bring the wine while you cooked the ham, no one to hand you a gift and no one for you to give one to either. you had learned a long time that it was best not to dwell, but it was hard. it was hard when you looked across the street and saw people that had so much more of something. something that you desperately wanted, but couldn't be bought.

when you looked back down at the laptop, simon could see the tears in your eyes clear as day. your eyes were so glossy and wet, and he swallowed hard as he looked at your face, illuminated by the twinkling lights that were bright outside.

"sorry--" you whispered, reaching up and wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your sweater. "sorry, i don't know why...i don't know what's wrong with me." you laughed it off, but simon could hear the pain in your voice. something aching and scratchy, something hollow.

"did...did you get what i sent?"

you looked up at him, frowning a little.

"sent? like...a package?"

"oh, christ, luv, don't tell me you haven't left the flat all day?"

you opened your mouth to respond, but you closed it, smiling shyly.

"just...go check outside. i can see it bloody snowing, go get it before it gets ruined."

you got up from your seat, going outside momentarily. when you came back inside, you had a wet box in your hands, and you set it down on the table as you when to go get something to cut the tape off. when you had opened the box, there was a smaller one inside, a nicely wrapped burgundy box that fit in your lap. you took a seat in front of the camera again, seeing simon's messy handwriting on the top of the box.

happy december 25th.

you laughed reading it, looking up at the camera after you reading the message.

"just another day, right?" he asked. you had new tears now, but they weren't sad. your heart was beating fast, making you take shaky, fast breaths, and you tried to smile, but it was hard.

"j-just another day," you whispered back to him. you took the top off the box, taking the tissue paper out to reveal a little plushie inside. it was a black teddy bear, but this one was unique. someone had fashioned a little skull mask of it out of felt, messily sewn fabric fit over the bear's face with the beady black eyes peeking out from the eyeholes--just like simon's. you picked up the bear, letting the box fall to the floor, and you tipped your head back as you tried to keep your tears inside. "simon--"

you and simon had never really gotten the chance to just be kids. to just be. to just enjoy and to receive something that didn't serve a purpose or a function, something unnecessary and trivial--something considered extra. because possessions were luxury, and you can't remember the last luxurious thing you had ever gotten.

"i know," he said lowly. "fuck, i--"

he pushed his own laptop down, and the camera tilted so you could only see his lower half. you watched him lose a bit of control, more tears coming down your face as you held your breath. simon cleared his throat loudly, ringing his hands together nervously before he picked the camera back up to his face.

"i'm getting the next fuckin' plane out of here, y'hear me?"

you brought the bear to your chest, hugging it gently before nodding. you wondered if this was why he had gotten you something like this--something to hold onto when he was gone. something to remind. something that would make you remember in the simon-shaped void you seemed to dwell in all too often.

"okay."

you had spent many december 25ths without him. you had spent many december 25ths right here, on a lonely windowsill, watching through the windows of lives that you wished you were living. this loneliness was not new--but now the loneliness was shared, and it hurt to share it.

you fell asleep there, watching glittering lights between the snowfall and holding the bear to your heart. the laptop went dark after awhile, and you slept there by the windowsill, wondering if anyone looked in and wanted to live this life instead.

the empty, quiet life of nothingness and bad dreams.

but it was something warm that woke you. a familiar hand, cradling the back of your head, whispering against your hair.

his breath was shaky. sucking in with difficulty, and then breathing out in rough stutters. your eyes opened slowly, your cheek squished against his tactical vest. you realized that he must've just gotten home--he was still head-to-toe in his gear, and you were staring up into the skull plate.

"simon--!"

you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. you gasped as you held him close, and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. your heart fluttered at the thought that he must've left as soon as he told you last night--determined to get back to you.

when you pulled back, simon rested his forehead against yours. you nuzzled your face against his, soft breaths as you grounded yourself in the realization that he's here, he's with me, he's alive.

"just another day," simon murmured, gripping your head with both hands. you swallowed hard, opening your eyes and meeting his own. you swear you saw something sad in them, something emotional, tears of some kind, but he blinked it away before you could look too long. "but i...had to come home."

your nodded reaching up and putting your hands over his on your face.

"i love you, simon."

if he had paid enough attention, he would've heard what those words truly meant. that you didn't just love him, you love him. not want, need, not a preference, but a requirement. undeniable, endless, raw, soul-sucking love--the kind that tore up your insides and spit them out without remorse.

but how can you really love someone like me?

simon tangled his gloved hands into your hair now, tugging gently.

"i love you more."

how can you love someone who's already dead?

[stargrillzz]

THE MORE WRINKLED THE RAISIN, THE SWEETER

SUMMARY: You know what they say, the more wrinkled the raisin, the sweeter it is. Oh and wasn’t he sweet...

NOTE: Peter is so hot, damn.xoxo

The storm outside cracked like a live wire, lightning flashing through the steel beams of Derek’s loft. Rain slammed the windows like the sky was trying to get in. It was late—past midnight—but no one in the pack was yawning.

Not with the way Derek paced in front of the makeshift war table, arms crossed tight, brow locked in that signature "someone’s gonna die tonight" furrow.

“We found claw marks on the walls of the clinic,” Derek started, tossing a photo across the table. “And not the usual kind. These went through concrete.”

Scott leaned forward, examining the grainy image. “So we’re not sure if it’s a rogue Omega or something… else?”

“It’s not an Omega,” Peter’s voice cut through the room like a blade dipped in honey—smooth, dangerous, and sharp. He stood against one of the support beams, arms folded over that fitted black Henley, looking deliciously bored. “No one that pathetic has claws like that.”

You were curled in one of the armchairs near the corner, chin resting on your hand, only half-listening.

Correction: You were listening—but not to Derek or Scott or whatever threat was clawing up buildings.

No. Your eyes hadn’t moved off Peter in the last ten minutes.

There was something about how he stood—casual, calculated, like he was in on a joke no one else could hear. The soft stretch of his shirt across his chest. The faint shadows beneath his eyes that made him look a little too wolf, a little too unhinged. God, he looked like the kind of man you could ruin your life with.

And you wanted to. Boldly. Repeatedly.

Peter caught your gaze mid-glance. One brow arched.

And then he smirked.

“I’m just saying,” Peter added dryly, loud enough for everyone to hear, “if the big scary monster lurking around town is stupid enough to leave claw marks like a trail of breadcrumbs, maybe we should give it a helmet instead of a fight.”

Stiles huffed from the couch. “You’re such a dick.”

Peter smiled wider. “Accurate.”

You tilted your head, biting your lip. “Maybe he just wanted to get caught,” you said suddenly, loud enough to make half the room turn to you. You shrugged innocently, meeting Peter’s eyes like you were peeling him open with your stare. “Some creatures like being chased.”

Peter’s smile twitched—amused, intrigued—and laced with that dark, wolfish hunger he tried so hard to hide. You saw it.

Scott side-eyed you, blinking. “Y/N—can we focus?”

“Sorry,” you said sweetly, standing up slowly. “I just… get distracted.”

You circled the edge of the group, careful steps echoing across the floor. The storm cracked again, and the lights flickered. You stopped right behind Peter, leaned close, and spoke into the back of his neck without touching him.

“I like when you’re cruel,” you whispered, voice silk and fire. “Makes me wonder if you bite.”

Peter didn’t move. But you felt his pulse shift. Like something ancient and hungry stirred beneath his skin.

His voice came out low, controlled—too controlled.

“Little girl,” he murmured back, still facing forward. “You really want to go there?”

You smirked and leaned closer, lips brushing the edge of his ear.

“I’ve been there. I live there. I set up a fucking tent.”

Peter’s jaw clenched.

“I’m going to murder her,” Stiles muttered from the couch, half-joking. “Like—just a little bit. Just a smidge.”

“You won’t,” Peter said out loud, cool and calm, but you felt the heat radiating off him now. “She’d haunt you in lingerie.”

You chuckled—soft, filthy.

Scott groaned. “Can you not flirt in the middle of a supernatural crisis?”

“I wasn’t flirting,” you said, rounding Peter and standing beside him now, all close and magnetic. “I was… observing.”

Peter finally turned to look at you fully, blue eyes locked on yours. “And what, exactly, did you observe?”

“That you’re dying to touch me.”

The room went silent.

And then Derek snapped, “Enough.”

Everyone flinched. Except Peter. And you.

Derek’s eyes glowed faintly as he glared. “If you two are done turning this into a goddamn mating ritual, maybe we can get back to planning before another body shows up.”

Peter gave a slow shrug. “Fine by me. I’m only here for the entertainment.”

You leaned against the beam next to him, casual, letting your arm brush his. “Well. I’m very entertaining.”

Peter didn’t respond right away. His eyes dragged down your body like a promise, slow and hot and filthy. Then he turned back toward the group, lips twitching.

You grinned, smug and glowing. Victory.

He was close. So close.

But for now, he turned his attention back to the others. Like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t just tongue-fucked him with a glance.

But his hand stayed pressed lightly to the edge of the beam—fingertips brushing yours, barely there.

Touch-starved. Hungry.

And yours.

Eventually.

-

The meeting had dragged. Thunder rolled low above Beacon Hills like the earth was growling, warning them about whatever new monster was crawling into town.

But the real storm didn’t break until after the pack started heading out.

“Y/N,” Scott called from beside his bike, keys jangling in his hand. “You riding with me or Stiles?”

You didn’t even glance at him. Your eyes were locked on Peter, who stood beside his black SUV with one hand on the door and the other in his pocket, smirking like he knew something no one else did.

Which—he usually did.

You smiled slowly. “Neither.”

Scott blinked. “What?”

“I’ll go with Peter.”

He straightened up slightly. “Why?”

You tilted your head innocently. “Why not?”

Behind Scott, Stiles made a dramatic groaning noise. “Oh my god. Here we go again. Just let her ride with Satan if she wants, man.”

Peter said nothing. He just opened the passenger door and stepped aside like a gentleman—or something that wore the skin of one. His eyes burned into you like a promise.

You walked past Scott without another word and climbed in.

The doors clicked shut. The outside world disappeared.

Inside, it was warm, dark, quiet—except for the low hum of the engine and the slow turn of the wipers dragging rain across the windshield.

Peter didn’t speak. He just drove, hands loose on the wheel, eyes forward. Focused. Dangerous.

You watched his profile—how the shadows carved into his cheekbone, how his hand tensed just slightly every time you shifted in your seat. You loved how he always tried to pretend you didn’t affect him.

But you did.

You always did.

And tonight… tonight you were done pretending you didn’t know it.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled slowly—deliberately—into the back seat.

Peter’s eyes flicked to the mirror. “What are you doing?”

You spread your legs across the leather and leaned back on your elbows, smirking up at him. “Drive,” you said. “Or do something about it.”

Peter’s jaw clenched.

The car skidded a little to the right before he yanked it into a side lot, tires splashing into a puddle as he parked under a broken streetlight. The glow from it flickered once, then died.

Silence.

Then the soft creak of his door opening.

You stayed sprawled out, heart pounding as you listened to his boots hit the wet pavement, circle around the back, and open the rear door.

He got in.

The door slammed behind him.

And then he just looked at you—like a wolf who'd been stalking his prey for miles, and suddenly found her naked and grinning in his den.

“You,” he growled, voice low, fraying, “are a goddamn menace.”

You smirked, shifting slightly so your knee brushed against his thigh. “And you love it.”

His hand shot out, fisting in the front of your shirt and yanking you closer, your faces inches apart now. His breath was hot against your lips, his fingers flexing like he was deciding whether to pull you in or push you away.

He did neither.

“You think I won’t ruin you?” he hissed.

“I want you to.”

That broke him.

Peter grabbed the back of your neck and crushed his mouth to yours, tongue demanding and rough, devouring you with filthy need. You gasped into it, moaning when his teeth scraped your bottom lip, when his fingers tangled in your hair and pulled hard.

You kissed him back like it was the last thing you’d ever do.

Your hands slid up under his shirt—god, he was burning, muscle under your palms, skin twitching when you scratched. He growled again, shoving you back until your shoulders hit the seat, his body following, crawling over you like a predator who had finally, finally taken the bait.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispered against your throat, licking a slow line under your jaw. “To make the bad wolf snap?”

You whimpered, grinding up against him. “More.”

“More?” He nipped at your skin. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Then show me,” you breathed, fingers dragging down to the waistband of his jeans. “Be the wolf, Peter. Fucking bite.”

And he did.

Your back hit the leather with a soft thud, legs still parted around him, his hand fisted in your shirt like he might rip it off, like maybe he should. The heat between you two had gone nuclear. Your skin was buzzing, your breath short, your mouth already wrecked from the kiss you barely survived.

And Peter was watching you—his blue eyes dark and glowing, fangs just barely peeking from under his lip. The wolf was there. Right under the surface. And you had called it out.

You brought your hand up, tracing your fingers down the front of his chest. “Come on, Peter,” you whispered, voice syrupy and shameless. “You know you’ve been dying to fuck the attitude out of me.”

He groaned—visceral, like the sound was torn from him. Then his hand was under your thigh, yanking your hips toward him hard enough to make you gasp. His other hand curled around your throat—not choking, just holding, thumb pressing beneath your jaw with filthy reverence.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he muttered against your neck, but his hand was already sliding between your legs.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you moaned, arching into his touch.

His fingers pressed against the heat of your center—your shorts soaked through, no panties. You heard his breath catch.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed.

You smiled lazily. “Told you. I came prepared.”

Peter didn’t answer—he just shoved the fabric aside and slid two fingers through your folds, slow and deep and filthy. Your head tipped back with a broken moan.

“Oh my God—”

“Not God,” he rasped. “Just the wolf.”

He leaned in again, biting softly at your lip as his fingers began to move—rhythmically, slowly at first, then harder, faster. His thumb circled your clit with the kind of precision that made your legs tremble.

“I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, biting at your ear, “so fucking long. Every time you opened that smart mouth, every time you walked into a room like you owned me…”

You whimpered, rocking against his hand, clutching his shoulder. “Then take it. Own me.”

Something in him snapped.

He pulled his hand away for one agonizing second—long enough to yank your shorts down and toss them somewhere in the dark car—then he shoved your thighs up and apart, climbing between them like he belonged there. Like this was a fucking claim.

And maybe it was.

He shoved his jeans down just enough, fangs glinting now as he dragged his tip through your slick folds, teasing, eyes locked to yours.

“You want this?” he rasped, voice barely human.

“Yes,” you breathed, grabbing his jaw. “I want you.”

He slammed into you with one brutal thrust, burying himself fully. You cried out, arching, clawing at his shoulders. He didn’t wait. He didn’t ease up.

He fucked you—hard, deep, filthy—every thrust making the car creak on its suspension, windows fogging instantly. The smell of rain and sex and wolf filled the air. Your moans were ragged, high and loud, but he didn’t tell you to quiet down.

He wanted them.

Peter grunted as you clenched around him, biting into your neck—not enough to break skin, just enough to mark. His hand stayed wrapped tight around your throat, fingers flexing with every snap of his hips.

“You love this,” he growled. “You love knowing how wrong this is.”

You were nearly sobbing with pleasure. “Yes—fuck, Peter, please—”

“You wanted the bad wolf,” he snarled. “Now fucking take him.”

Your orgasm hit like a car crash "Oh my God, fuck yeah" hot and endless, your body convulsing around him as he held you down, fucked you through it, didn’t stop. You screamed his name, scratching down his back. Peter groaned into your throat, and with one final thrust, he spilled inside you, deep and possessive, a growl rattling from his chest like thunder.

You both collapsed, panting, your limbs tangled, hearts pounding like war drums.

His forehead rested against yours. He was still inside you. Still hardening again. Still hungry.

-

The bonfire cracked like it had secrets to tell.

Sparks flew up into the inky sky while laughter echoed from the logs surrounding it—pack members sprawled on blankets, roasting marshmallows and talking over each other. It was one of those rare nights when no one was dead or dying. Just warmth, woodsmoke, and the edge of summer in the air.

You were curled on a blanket next to Scott and Lydia, letting the heat of the fire lick at your bare legs while your eyes, once again, found him.

Peter Hale stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, the flames casting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones and the glint in his eyes. He wasn’t talking to anyone. Just watching. Guarded. Calm. Until you looked at him.

Then something in him shifted—his mouth twitching into a dangerous little smirk, eyes dipping down your body in one unbothered pass before returning to the fire.

Your thighs clenched.

You had been teasing him all night—lingering touches on your way past him, sitting just a little too close on the log earlier, whispering filthy little jokes under your breath only he could hear.

And now, sitting across from him in that short skirt and that smug grin, one leg swinging lazily as if you weren’t driving him insane, you knew he was at his limit.

Time to push.

You stood up slowly, stretching—arms above your head, shirt lifting just a little too far—and you made sure Peter’s eyes followed.

Then, without a word, you turned and walked toward the woods.

You didn’t look back.

Didn’t need to.

You heard the crunch of his boots on the forest floor thirty seconds later.

By the time he caught up, your back was already against a tree, breathing fast from the thrill of being chased, of being wanted. Peter stepped out of the shadows like a goddamn wolf, eyes gleaming, mouth a flat line of hunger and restraint.

“I swear to fucking God—” he growled.

You grabbed his collar and yanked him into a kiss that stole the rest of the sentence from his throat.

It was filthy. Immediate. No teasing now—just mouths crashing, teeth clashing, lips parted and desperate as you gasped into each other. His hands were already under your skirt, grabbing the backs of your thighs, lifting you. You wrapped your legs around his waist without thinking, moaning when your back hit the bark behind you.

“Jesus,” Peter rasped against your mouth, grinding his hips against your center. “Do you ever stop?”

“Why would I,” you panted, licking into his mouth, “when this is how you act when I don’t?”

He chuckled darkly, biting your bottom lip. “You think this is me acting?”

You whimpered when he rocked against you again, the heat of his jeans grinding into your panties, soaked and sticking to you already. Your head thumped back against the tree.

“You’re such a little brat,” he growled, sliding one hand between you, cupping you through your underwear. “Getting me hard in front of the whole fucking pack. Whispering shit only I could hear.”

Your hips bucked. “Couldn’t help it,” you gasped. “You look so edible next to fire.”

Peter growled, shoved your panties to the side, and dragged his fingers through your slick, slow and filthy. You gasped.

“Jesus, you’re wet—”

“You did that,” you moaned, clenching around nothing. “Fix it.”

He didn’t need more.

Peter undid his jeans, enough to free himself, the sound of his zipper somehow the dirtiest thing in the woods. He lined up with you, looking at you like he could tear you in half and you’d thank him for it.

“Quiet,” he warned as he pushed in. “Or I’ll make you scream.”

You bit down on his shoulder to muffle your cry as he buried himself inside you in one brutal thrust, your nails clawing at his back.

“Fuck,” you whimpered. “Peter—”

“Shh, baby,” he hissed, thrusting again, slow but deep, each movement shoving you higher up the tree. “Don’t want your little friends coming to check, do you?”

You shook your head, moaning into his neck. The idea of Scott or Derek or Stiles stumbling into this? It made you wetter.

Peter felt it. “Oh, you like that,” he sneered. “You want them to find out how desperate you are for my cock?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, not even thinking. “I don’t care.”

His thrusts got harder. Meaner. The tree bark dug into your spine but you didn’t feel it—just the thick slide of him inside you, your thighs shaking around his waist, your body strung so tight you were seconds from unraveling.

“You wanna cum?” he whispered, filthy, fanged, dangerous.

“Please,” you gasped. “Peter, please—”

He reached between you, rubbing your clit in rough circles until you were gasping, head thrown back, toes curling in your boots. He slammed in one more time, and you broke apart—shaking, clutching him like a lifeline, moaning loud into his mouth as you came.

He groaned as you clenched around him, hips stuttering, and then he was following, burying himself deep with a low, guttural curse.

He held you there for a second, both of you panting in the dark, sweaty and still tangled together.

Then—

A snap.

A branch breaking.

Voices.

“Peter?” That was Scott. Close.

Peter pulled out quickly, helping you stand, yanking your panties back into place and pulling his jeans up with inhuman speed. You adjusted your shirt, shaking from the aftershocks and the adrenaline.

Peter leaned close, lips brushing your ear.

“If they catch us,” he growled, “I’ll make you ride me in front of them.”

You nearly collapsed.

But he straightened, smirked, and stepped out of the trees—calm, smug, like he hadn’t just fucked you against a tree with the entire pack 30 feet away.

You followed, flushed and glowing, hair mussed.

Scott and Derek looked up as you reappeared, both raising eyebrows.

Peter walked past them like nothing happened, but then Derek’s nose twitched.

He frowned. Deeply.

“You smell like her,” Derek muttered.

Peter glanced back with the laziest, dirtiest smirk in history.

“Then I must smell fantastic.”

[waywardxrhea]

Better Late Than Never - Matt Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Detective!reader

Your teamwork with Daredevil to take down a dangerous gun trafficking gang leads to your life being on the line more than once.

word count: 6,280

content: hurt/comfort, two idiots in love, canon typical violence, guns, blood, car violence, forced sedative use, binds and gags (not the fun kind lol), beating as an interrogation tactic, knife use

a/n: this was done for an anon request! i was given lots of free reign with this one so this is what i came up with for the request of Reader getting captured and Matt/Daredevil has to attempt to rescue!

ps idk why, but i pictured Tom Ellis as the face and voice claim of the gang leader? not the intention, but it just kinda happened lol picture whoever you would like!

“Thank you for your time, and again, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” you said to the young woman you had arrested the week prior as she walked out of the precinct, shooting you a dirty look on her way through the door. 

You had found her in possession of a weapon that was unregistered and untraceable, so you took her in and had the gun run against the database to confirm your suspicions about the weapon. Captain Mahoney had recently assigned you to work on a case of an organized crime gang who were trafficking guns, so you were on high alert for any weapons that matched their MO. Turned out your hunch was right and the gun matched up with the weapon used in a murder a few weeks prior to her arrest. The detectives on the case were having trouble tracking down who the killer was, so when the gun’s tool marks matched up exactly, everyone was happy to have someone in custody for the crime. 

The woman never once swayed from her story of innocence though, so naturally, she lawyered up. Her innocence was proven just hours before by a pair of talented attorneys from the law offices of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. You looked up to see one of her lawyers coming toward you with a smug look on his face as he approached, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his cane not unfamiliar to you at this point. “I guess you can’t be right all the time, Detective,” Matt Murdock said to you as he came to a halt mere feet from you. 

You looked out at the bustling New York sidewalk where the woman had been moments before, and told him, “I’m just glad she didn’t go away for something she didn’t do. She ended up having a solid alibi and we found grainy footage of some thug slipping the gun into her purse the night I arrested her. I don’t think we would have known to look if it wasn’t for you and Foggy.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” he said, a small smile teasing the corners of his lips. There was a moment of silence before Matt spoke again, telling you, “Nice job, by the way, taking down that serial mugger last week. The streets already feel safer because of you.”

“Oh, you heard about that?” you asked curiously. Truthfully, it had been such a cut and dry case, you never followed up on what happened after the arrest.

“Yeah, when he hired us as his lawyers. Obviously, he was guilty, so we got him to take a deal,” Matt replied with a quiet chuckle. You watched as an almost cocky smirk curled up one side of his lips before he added quietly, “He said you were a little rough with the handcuffs?”

You leaned casually onto the wall beside you, crossing your arms loosely with a cheeky smile plastering your lips as you asked, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you, Murdock?”

Before he could respond, an older officer who was wandering past barked out your last name and said, “Hey! What are you doing fraternizing with the enemy? He’s the reason so many of my arrests walk, you know!”

“Are you encouraging her not to listen to serious concerns from a constituent in her jurisdiction? I was just telling her how safe I feel now that she's on the case and taking serial criminals off our streets,” Matt said to him, his quick defense of you and the lawyer-speak making your heart flutter in your chest. He straightened his tie with his free hand not holding his cane and added, “Maybe if your arrests would actually hold up in court, they wouldn’t walk.”

The other officer stalked off, mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out, but you guessed that Matt could judging by the way his jaw was working in frustration. Wanting to take his attention away from the stressor, you quietly cleared your throat and told him, “You look really nice today, by the way. The tie really flatters you.”

His gaze finally tore away from the man when you said this and the muscles in his jaw relaxed, a smile returning to his features as he said, “Well, I’m glad it isn’t horribly obscene.”

“You could wear the gaudiest of hats and a neon orange tie and you’d still look amazing, Counselor,” you told him, a playfulness in your tone as a smile teased your lips. 

Matt leaned in toward you slightly, his voice lowered and almost with a sultry quality to it as he asked, “Are you flirting with me, Detective?” 

The gesture and his proximity made your heart start pounding in your chest, the sound reverberating loudly in your ears as your eyes quickly darted down to his lips before focusing back on his eyes behind his red lenses. Your voice sounded foreign in your own ears as you breathlessly said, “And if I-”

“Okay you two! No more puppy eyes at each other! You’re cut off for the day!” came Foggy Nelson’s voice as he approached with Captain Mahoney beside him. Both you and Matt straightened up in response to his interruption, the space between you growing once more to one of more professional standards as the two men approached. 

Captain Mahoney playfully tsked at the pair of you before telling Matt, “Come on, Murdock! I need her sharp for the case we’re working on! I can’t have her daydreaming about you the whole time!”

“I don’t daydream…” you mumbled, averting your gaze to the ground in the hopes that the furious blush now taking over your cheeks would be less obvious that way. 

“And I don’t need you to start now,” Captain Mahoney said, a quiet chuckle leaving his chest. You glanced up to see him giving Foggy a pointed look before telling him and Matt, “Now, you two get out of my precinct! And don’t come back unless you have to!” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back with cigars for your mom soon!” Foggy said as he and Matt turned to leave the building. 

“Oh, no you won’t!” Captain Mahoney shouted back. 

“They totally will,” you said with a quiet laugh as you watched them disappear into the bustling crowd on the sidewalk. 

Before you could return to your desk, the Captain’s voice caught your attention as he asked, “When are the two of you gonna finally go on a date?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told him, shocked that he was discussing this with you. 

“Uh-huh, sure,” he said, not even trying to hide his smirk. 

Wanting the conversation to be off of your painfully obvious crush on Matt, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you get a team together to head to the potential drop site with me tonight?”

“Yeah. It’ll be you, Stewart, Greene, and Campos,” he replied, relenting on his teasing, at least for now. “I had to make it a small team so you won’t be so obvious. You’ll go in plain clothes with bulletproof vests underneath. The four of you will have body cameras on at all times and I’ll be nearby in a van watching the feed with backup in case you need it.” 

“Sounds good, do the others know yet?”

“No, I was just about to find you all,” he said. “Meet me in my office in ten and we’ll discuss the full plan.”

That night once the sun had set and things were settling down as much as they could in New York City, you and your team of officers were making your way to the site where you were told the latest shipment of illegal guns was coming in. Dressed in plainclothes, the four of you ambled toward the site, Greene’s arm slung around your shoulders as she pretended to drunkenly stumble down the sidewalk while you brought a water bottle in a brown paper sack to your lips and took a long drink before pulling a face as if the contents tasted like cheap liquor on your tongue. Campos and Stewart flanked the two of you on either side, both of them also pretending to be unsteady on their feet as the four of you made your way toward the docks. 

Once the four of you got to a mostly hidden spot near where the shipment was supposed to be delivered, the act was dropped and you all crouched silently as you stared at the dock. The boat was scheduled to arrive in the next thirty minutes. As the time got closer, Campos leaned over and whispered, “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“This is where my source told me they would be,” you told him. 

Stewart, a slightly older officer, scoffed quietly and said sarcastically, “Yeah, Daredevil? Look, I know that after what happened with Fisk, Mahoney trusts him, but me personally? I think-”

“You should really listen to the detective in charge,” came the gravelly voice of the man in question as he perched on the structure across from the four of you. “Ghallagar got spooked since you’ve been onto his trail, so he moved the shipment a few docks down. If you hurry, you’ll be able to make it before the sale’s done.”

“And what’re you gonna do, huh?” Steward sneered. 

“Let New York’s Finest do their work,” Daredevil replied. “All I came here to do is make sure you can do your job.”

“Thank you, Daredevil,” you told the man in red graciously. He simply nodded before silently turning and making his way in the opposite direction. “Well, you heard the man, let’s go!” you told the others before gesturing for them to start getting up and heading in the direction of the new stakeout location. Before you could head off though, you spoke aloud so Captain Mahoney could hear, telling him, “The shipment’s being dropped off a few docks down. We’re heading there now. Control van can stay in place, it shouldn’t be too far from the original location.”

“Control van staying put, copy,” came the captain’s voice. “If you need backup just call.” 

“Will do,” you said before creeping your way to the front of the small pack. You had your service weapon drawn and pointed to the ground, but it was ready to be used at a moment’s notice. 

When the four of you arrived, the van for transport had just pulled up and you saw three men get out, heading over to meet with three more emerging from a small boat anchored at the dock. They were all armed to the teeth. It was clear that Ghallagar was not messing around. Before the guns could exchange hands, you motioned your crew forward. Staying slightly ahead of them, but fanned out, you raised your weapon and shouted firmly, “NYPD! Put the weapons down! Now!”

“Shit, we gotta go!” you heard one of the men from the boat crew shout before turning tail and running back to get the boat started. 

“Stop running! Put your hands where I can see them!” you shouted, firmer yet, as the four of you slowly creeped toward the men. 

“Get the guns! Now! We’ll hold ‘em off!” one of the gang men roared while gesturing for the shippers to grab their boxes. 

“Weapons down!” you warned. 

“I don’t think so!” the man in charge of the street crew snarled before opening fire. 

“Get to safety! I’ll provide cover!” you shouted at the other officers who quickly obeyed your command and hid behind shipping containers. In case Captain Mahoney hadn’t heard the gunfire, you shouted, ”Shots fired! I repeat, shots fired!” You heard more gunshots firing off from your side and watched as one man from the boat who was still on the dock got shot, a crimson spray of blood misting the air as the bullet made contact. 

Before you could make a move to back up and into an area of cover of your own, a rapid spray of bullets came flying toward you! You barely registered it as a second man from the street crew who had taken the heavy artillery weapon out of the van before the wind was knocked out of you completely and you were knocked onto your back. As you lay on the ground struggling to breathe due to the impact of so many bullets on your kevlar vest, you saw a blur of red dash past you and toward the dock. 

You barely registered the shouts of, “Officer down! Officer down!” from Greene as your heart pounded in your ears. Adrenaline rushed through your veins, but rather than pushing you up like it normally would, it froze you to the ground. 

When you were finally able to turn your head to see what was going on because you could no longer rely on your hearing, you saw the red-clad figure of Daredevil standing over a bloodied man who had crumpled to the ground. You saw his shoulders moving up and down as his chest heaved with the effort of the fight, his fists clenched at his sides as he stood menacingly over the body. His head jerked up as the van peeled away from the dock without their fallen man and the boat zoomed away into the water. 

Closing your eyes, you breathed a sigh of relief to know the fire fight was over. “Take care of him,” you heard Daredevil’s voice bark to the other officers. It sounded like he was getting closer to you. You attempted to take a deep breath, but groaned in pain as you did, earning a concerned, “What hurts?” from Daredevil as he came to crouch beside you on the cold ground. 

“Ribs. Stomach. Bullets to kevlar,” you managed to get out between shallow breaths, squeezing your eyes shut as more pain burst forward with every word. 

“I’ve got-” Daredevil started to say, but stopped abruptly. When he did, your tightly closed eyes were suddenly engulfed by light before more excruciating pain radiated throughout your body as you were lifted up and into Daredevil’s arms. As you moved through the air with your eyes snapped shut, you felt Daredevil nearly lose his balance as a blast of air jostled him. Opening your eyes for a brief moment, you saw the gang’s van flying past you, missing the pair of you by mere inches!

You came to a crashing halt right into his armored chest with a cry of pain a few moments later, your knees buckling under the weight of your body and the pain. “I’m right here, you’re okay. You’re safe,” he whispered, pulling you gently back up into his chest, his gloved hand supporting the back of your neck as he did. 

Through the ringing in your ears, you barely heard your name being called out as officer Greene and Captain Mahoney made their way over to you and the masked man. “Are you okay?!” Greene asked exasperatedly. “Those guys are maniacs! Santos barely got out of the way before he got hit!”

“I’ll-” you tried before groaning in pain once again. 

“Greene, make sure that bus is on the way and get an ETA, I can handle this,” Mahoney told her before you felt another set of hands on you to give support as you were peeled away from Daredevil’s chest. “I can’t believe they tried to hit you!” he grumbled. When you were able to open your eyes for a few moments you saw the deep scowl on his face as he shook his head, mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out through the cotton in your ears as your heart continued to pound relentlessly. 

It felt like mere moments before you were being put onto the gurney and being stabilized by the EMTs as you guarded your midsection while they worked. Glancing over, you noticed that since you were out of his arms, Daredevil was about to leave. Not wanting him to go without an acknowledgement of being the reason you were still alive, you managed to get out a weak, “Thank you. For saving me.” In response, he offered you a nod before sprinting off, leaving you to be taken to Metro General to be checked over. 

A few hours and exams later, you were released by the doctors at the hospital, being cleared of any breaks or concussion. You were simply sent home with massive bruising and told to take it easy the next few days with some pain killers. And although you protested, Captain Mahoney benched you for the next few days, telling you to stay home and heal up before returning for desk duty at the end of the week. 

It was understandable, being told that you would come back for desk duty after what happened, though. You were shot at by a heavy weapon and almost mowed down by a van, for Pete’s sake! You cheated death. Twice! But it still felt like a punishment. Riding the desk hadn’t ever been your style, and you hated to start now…

Reaching over to the nightstand near your bed in your apartment, you felt around for the bottle of Advil that had become your best friend the past couple of days. When you finally made contact with it, you opened the lid and turned the bottle in order to drop a couple pills into your hand, but nothing came out. Groaning in pain and frustration, you realized that you were out and hadn’t bought any before coming home after the hospital visit… Shit. You would have to go to the bodega down the street and get a new bottle.

Getting dressed was a task, and it took you a long time to get your sweats and t-shirt on in order to go to the shop. You didn’t even bother with sneakers, slipping into a pair of slides sitting by the door as you grabbed your purse off the hook and began making your way out of your apartment building. The walk was slow going and painful, the constant bustle of people around you on the sidewalk not helping as they shoved past you, your tender ribs and bruised abdomen taking hits that had you wanting to scream. 

The bodega thankfully had the medicine you were seeking. After paying for it and a bottle of water, you were taking the pills as you left the store, not wanting to wait a second longer for the pain relief you desperately sought. Before you could close up the pill bottle though, from the alleyway beside you, a pair of arms reached out and grabbed you! The pills scattered all around as you struggled to go into a defensive move you knew by heart in order to get out of the attacker’s grasp. But almost as if they knew you had bruised ribs, they squeezed your midsection, igniting your whole body in a searing pain that had you seeing stars. Taking a deep breath to scream turned out to be fruitless as only a weak cry tumbled out when your expanding ribcage violently protested the intake of air. 

“Gotcha,” said a gruff voice, their breath hot beside your ear as they spoke. After he did, you felt a needle enter your arm as he muttered, “Night, night. The boss can’t wait to see ya, Detective.”

When you came to, you blinked hard a few times, thinking that maybe it was all just a pain-induced nightmare. Reality hit you though when you tried to move your arms but couldn’t because they were tied behind you as you slumped over in an uncomfortable chair. Trying to remain as still as possible so as to not notify your captors of your conscious state, you took in your surroundings. 

You were shoved into a corner of the room, so you had a pretty good view of the space around you. Lining two of the four walls were crates upon crates, each marked with the symbol of the gun runners you had been tracking. So, that confirmed your suspicions about who had snatched you… On top of each box was a display of what gun was inside, small spotlights illuminating the weapon as if it was an art piece in a museum. Two men stood guard near the boxes with guns of their own holstered to keep the product safe. Another man sat in a chair nearby on his cell phone. Because of his proximity, you assumed he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for you to wake up.

There was a musty smell that permeated the air and the occasional drip of water echoing in the distance. It was a narrow room with a slightly rounded off ceiling, which you thought was odd. There was graffiti on the wall that seemed vaguely familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you had seen the tag before… The far wall looked like it had collapsed long ago, and it held the only entrance to the area that you could see. It didn’t even have a door, it was just an opening in the collapse. Something more promising though that clued you into where you may be located was the unfinished rail tracks peeking out from under the collapsed rubble and the unused tracks that had been used as makeshift barriers to protect the guns. 

You must be in the tunnel where the city had tried building an additional subway line a few years before, but it collapsed before they could get too far. Neither you nor Daredevil had been able to figure out where the gang’s base of operations was located, and now it made total sense. The area the city had accessed to get into the underground area was sealed and forgotten about by the population at large. You didn’t even know where the entrance was, although you had your guesses. Any time you would chase a group of troubled teens you caught harassing a street vendor or tagging the window of a business, they would just disappear into thin air near 45th and 9th. That was where you knew the graffiti tag from! There must be an entrance into this place somewhere near there! Not that knowing where you were particularly helped you at the moment, but… If you made it out of here somehow, at least you knew the best way to get to safety. 

“Hey, look who finally decided to wake up,” said the man near you. A shiver zipped down your spine as you realized that it was the same voice that spoke in your ear when you were taken. “Thought we overdosed you there for a little while. Guess I’m not as good at calculating drug doses as I thought. Oh, well.”

“What do you want with me?” you tried to ask firmly, but your voice came out broken and scratchy from lack of use over however long you had been out. 

“You’re asking the wrong guy questions,” the man said in a bored sort of tone. “Hey, Reg! Call the boss-man and tell him she’s awake. He’ll want to talk to her.”

“That he will,” came a new voice. Your head turned toward the opening in the collapse and saw a man in a white button up and pressed slacks walking in, flanked on either side by burly looking men who you assumed were his guard. 

“Ghallagar…” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes at the man you had only ever seen in pictures from the original brief you were given on the case. The whole time he had been in the Kitchen, the man was practically a ghost, so this was your first time getting a good look at him. 

“Detective,” he said with a certain smugness in his voice as he approached you. He held your gaze for a few moments before asking his men, “May we have the room? I need some time alone with the detective. There are buyers coming in an hour. Make sure we have materials to hide this section of the space. We don’t need them to see what I’m about to do. Bad for business.”

“Yes sir,” one of the burly men replied before turning away and gesturing for all of the men in the room to follow. 

When it was just the two of you again, Ghallagar rolled up his sleeves as he said, “I bet you’re wondering why I had you taken.”

“The thought may have crossed my mind,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. What did he plan on doing to you? What did he-

A sharp slap across the face pulled you out of your thoughts. “You seem to have something I want.” Another slap in the other direction nearly toppled you out of the chair before he snarled, “And I intend on getting the information out of you.”

“What do you want?” you asked through gritted teeth, trying not to show any weakness to the man standing tall over you. You may be in the compromised position, but there was no way you were going to let this man break you. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. 

“Tell me Daredevil’s identity,” Ghallagar said as if it was the most simple question in the world. As if he was asking the name of the cashier at your favorite bodega. 

“I don’t-” you tried, but stopped to let out a cry of pain when he sent a kick into your bruised midsection. 

“You’ve worked with him for months! Trying to find me, finding the gang whose place I took, taking down that mugger together. I could go on with all of the cases you’ve figured out with his help, Detective.” Before you could contain your emotions, your eyes widened momentarily, and that reaction caused a smirk to twist Ghallagar’s lips. “Yeah, that’s right. I know your case files. I have a folder with the names of every criminal you’ve taken down since you got out of the Academy.” He circled around to stand behind you and dug his thumbs into painful pressure points in your shoulders as he said, “You got to do your homework on me, I got to do my homework on you. It’s only fair, isn’t it? And it’s also fair for you to tell me who you’ve been working with since you’ve been such a thorn in my side!”

When he said that last part, a white-hot pain seared over your shoulder as he ran a knife over the skin there. You tried to bite your cheek to muffle your scream of pain, but only drew more blood than was already trickling out of the wound on your shoulder. Taking a deep breath to control yourself only made things worse and you let out another groan of pain as he circled back to stand in front of you. “I don’t know-” you tried again, but were cut off when he shoved the whole chair over with you in it. 

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he shouted as he sent another kick into your ribs, causing more pain to rock your already battered body. “The way he saved you that night on the docks! He made sure to go to you! The way he held you when he saved you from my men’s van! You know who he is, and it’s just a matter of time until I get it out of you!” 

“She was supposed to get back to work today, I haven’t seen her though. Not like her to be late…” was Brett’s response to Matt’s question about where you were. It was the morning you were supposed to be back after the incident at the docks, and Karen had suggested bringing you flowers. He didn’t hear you inside the building on his way there, though, so he hadn’t grabbed any before heading in to speak with a new client. 

“Have you tried calling her?” Matt asked. 

“Straight to voicemail. I was thinking of doing a welfare check myself here in a little bit if she doesn’t show up by noon,” Brett said with a sigh. A quiet chuckle left his chest before he added, “Don’t worry, I’ll get a hold of her, Lover Boy.”

Matt shook his head and laughed light-heartedly at the joke, telling Brett, “I appreciate it,” before he and Foggy left the precinct and headed to their office for the afternoon of case file sifting. 

Running his fingers over the braille case file in front of him, Matt had been fully engrossed in the complexities of this case for hours. Foggy had already called it quits for the night and went home, but he and Karen were still there, working to find an angle they could win this case at. “What if we played up the jury’s-” came Karen’s voice, but Matt tuned her out when he heard your name mentioned in the police chatter from a nearby cop cruiser. 

Officer missing after welfare check. Cameras show the officer’s last known location outside of a bodega before disappearing into an alleyway. Three days ago. 

Matt was out of his office chair and hurtling toward the door before Karen could even ask where he was going, calling over his shoulder that there was an emergency that he needed to deal with. He didn’t even bother with the cane as he ran, he and Karen were the only ones in the building anyway at this hour. He needed to get to his suit and he needed to get to it now. Your life may well depend on it. 

You weren’t sure how long the beatings went on for. There was no light that got into the collapsed tunnel so you couldn’t tell day from night. There didn’t seem to be any patterns on when guards entered or exited the room. There was no specific time when Ghallagar came in or out to beat answers you didn’t have out of you. And there was no use shouting. You felt doomed.

The only reprieve from the onslaught of pain was when buyers came in. When they were there, you were gagged and concealed from sight by a room divider, left to bleed and suffer in pain before more was inflicted when they were gone. Besides the pain, the only thing you knew for sure was that you didn’t have the information he wanted. You didn’t know who Daredevil was. No one did. You just worked with him on the recommendation from Captain Mahoney. That’s all. The way the masked vigilante saved you that night and held you to his chest made you feel safe, yes, but why that made Ghallagar think you knew his identity was beyond you. You wished there was some way for you to prove that you were telling the truth. Some way for him to know- 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud sound of gunfire in the front of the room. The enclosed space made everything louder and you squeezed your eyes closed in a feeble attempt to shut everything out. You were afraid of the ricocheting bullets making their way over here. Although, if one hit you, this could all be over… You wouldn’t have to endure anymore pain. There would be no more pain. And boy, did that sound great right now. 

The sound of fighting got closer and closer, Ghallagar’s voice barking orders before suddenly going silent along with the rest of the room. The only thing you heard was the sound of fists hitting flesh and groans of pain from the victims of whoever was dealing the blows. Already conditioned to fear the punches of your captors, you cowered inward as much as you could, a weak and unintentional whimper leaving your throat as you did. 

Within seconds of making the noise, the pounding of fists stopped and you heard a thud as a body landed on the floor, their skull hitting the pavement hard. Your heart pounded in your throat as you heard heavy footfalls approaching you and you wished the person away with all your might. Your wish didn’t come true though as the room barrier was shoved aside, causing you to tuck your head down to be as small as possible in the eyes of the unknown person in front of you. 

Your name was whispered in a gravelly voice, and you shook your head in some sort of attempt to deter the person from you. Instead of another beating that you were accustomed to though, suddenly your hands were free of their confines and you were being hauled up and into the embrace of the person now standing in front of you. You were too weak to fight, but when you felt the texture of the armor adorning the person holding you, you let out a sob and tightened your arms around the man. Around Daredevil. He came to rescue you. He saved your life again. 

“I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe now,” he mumbled as he held you as gently as he could. With one arm still wrapped around you, you felt one pull away before he spoke again a few moments later, saying, “Tell Mahoney I found her. Collapsed subway tunnel near 45th and 9th. Ghallagar and his men are incapacitated. Get an ambulance here, now. She’s in bad shape.”

It was as if your body instantly switched out of survival mode when he ended the call. The moment you knew that an ambulance was on the way and you were safe in Daredevil’s arms, you collapsed. Every muscle fiber in your body gave out and your joints folded under all the weight and suddenly everything went black once more. 

When you began to regain consciousness, you instantly knew you were in a different environment. Rather than the sound of dripping water and gruff men speaking, there was the occasional beeping sound and soft spoken voices. You were in a somewhat comfortable bed with pillows surrounding you in an effort to soften the mattress and your hands weren’t bound behind you. There was no steady trickle of blood leaking from your body. You were in the hospital. You were safe. 

Your eyelids fluttered open when you heard movement from beside you, and you realized that one of the soft spoken voices was coming from right beside you in the form of Matt Murdock praying. Looking down, you realized that one of your hands was grasped in his as he prayed, and a deep blush creeped onto your cheeks - the moment was far more intimate than any you had shared before. “Hey,” you whispered once he said amen. 

“You’re awake. Thank God,” he said, the emotion obvious in his voice and smile. “You had me scared there for a few days.”

“A-a few days?” you asked, eyes widening. 

“Yeah. It’s been three days since they brought you in,” Matt replied, squeezing your hand gently. “Brett and Daredevil took care of Ghallagar. He and his men are going away for a long time.”

“Good,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion as you remembered what you endured at his hand. Wanting to change the subject off of the man in question, you looked at the gorgeous bouquet of flowers on your bedside table and asked, “Did you bring those flowers?” 

A bashful smile made its way onto Matt’s lips as he nodded, telling you, “I was hoping you’d wake up before they wilted. Was I right?” 

“Yeah. They’re gorgeous. Thank you, Matt,” you said, voice wobbly as you spoke. “And thank you for coming to see me. I- You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I wanted to,” Matt replied softly. 

“Oh hey! You’re awake!” came the voice of Foggy as he peeked into the room. “I hate to break up this happy little reunion, but we gotta go, buddy. Client needs us, like, yesterday.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Matt told him. 

During the whole exchange you were left staring at yours and Matt’s intertwined hands and got to thinking. Why hadn’t you ever just made a move with him? Before, you were convinced that he was just playing along with your flirting. That he didn’t have feelings for you like you did for him and that he just didn’t want to be rude. But now, frankly, you didn’t care about your overthought reasoning. After the last week, you realized how fleeting life was and just how lucky you were that you were still alive. So, before Matt could stand up and say his goodbyes as Foggy stepped out of the room, you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

The gesture ignited pain in your battered body and a furious blush on your cheeks as you relaxed back into the mattress. The boyish grin that lit up Matt’s face made your heart flutter, and you swore it almost stopped when he asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” was your instant response in a breathy tone with a wide smile on your lips as well. 

The kiss was brief and gentle with both you and Matt unable to hold back your smiles as it happened. You felt rays of happiness flowing out of you and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips when he pulled away mere moments later. He squeezed your hand once again as he said, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize…” 

“Better late than never,” you replied, a content smile on your lips as you remembered his soft ones on yours, already craving the next. You hoped that this would be the start of something magical with Matt.

big shoutout to my beta readers in the tuna tank for helping me out with this, especially @sunflowersandsapphires for some of the dialogue pieces as well as @justvalkyrie and @thornbushrose for help with plot points and clarity!

ps: the flirty comment with the handcuffs made me giggle so much! it happened very organically too (even though i am a terrible flirt and needed to ask for help in the server for inspo) also the bit at the end with Matt holding Reader's hand and praying?? i teared up, whoops!

as usual, likes and comments are appreciated! xo, brooke <3

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss

dividers by @firefly-graphics as always!

[heyimkana]

I'm reading Solo Leveling's light novel right now and i'm CRYING chairman go really thought jinwoo and haein was about to do the boomshakalaka in the gymnasium bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭

A few moments later, Go Gunhee was sipping tea and watching the security cam recording on his computer. For the most part, the video contained grainy black and white footage, as the gym was dark and the camera was in infrared mode. There was a bright flash as the lights came on and, once the camera switched modes, the president was able to see a man and a woman standing in a corner of the gym, holding each other in a tight embrace. He leaned in closer to the monitor as he repeatedly clicked the button to magnify the video feed.

PUH! COUGH COUGH

Go Gunhee choked as he tried to stop himself from spitting tea all over the computer screen. There, clear as day on the monitor, were the faces of S-rank Hunters Sung Jinwoo and Cha Haein. The elderly man stroked his chin and stared at the frozen image of the pair.

‘When did they get together?’

The Association president suddenly recalled the moment Hunter Cha Haein regain consciousness aboard the helicopter after the Jeju Island incident. She had called out for Hunter Sung Jinwoo.

‘How did I miss that?”

Go Gunhee felt a wave of warmth radiate through his body as a smile formed on his wrinkled face. Both Hunters had requested for information protection the minute they became S-rankers. In the president’s mind, they were the type that valued privacy and tried to avoid the paparazzi. Unfortunately for Cha Haein and Sung Jinwoo, they were instantly recognizable to the entire nation. In order for them to spend private time together, they would need a secluded space, such as the Association gym after business hours. It would be difficult for them to enjoy the typical romantic retreats afforded to couples their age. Go Gunhee felt a tug at his heartstrings.

‘Ah, to be young again.’

The Association president pressed the button on his desk phone once more.

“Sorry, but could you disable all the security cameras for the gymnasium?”

“Sir? But…”

“Just say that we were doing some maintenance or something.”

“Understood, Sir.”

Go Gunhee deleted the security footage on his computer and leaned back in his chair. He glanced out the window towards the gymnasium again and smiled. Feeling reinvigorated, he attacked his remaining paperwork with gusto.

BOOM

The tea in his cup rippled as the earth vibrated gently. The thunderous sound had come from the direction of the gymnasium.

“Ho ho, oh my.”

Go Gunhee chuckled, but kept his eyes focused on the documents before him. It seems there was another reason why the pair needed to use the specially constructed facility. ‘Ah, to be young again. I wonder what their children will look like?’

[jennifer-jeong]

haiii!! could I put in a request for boothill x an alcoholic engineer reader who’s personality takes a complete 180 when drunk? Like when sober they’re really quiet and a total introvert but when drunk they’re basically a party animal/super hype(the reason why they drink so much is because it helps them forget about their life problems like taxes and student loan debt, if I had to compare the reader’s personality to a character I’d say hiroi kikuri from bocchi the rock) but they’re like crazy smart when it comes to machines and stuff and even fixes up boothill from time to time

headcanons or a small fic is fine^^

HII I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I’ve just been out of the groove of writing for a bit but your request is so cute and I wanted to take a shot at it. Thank you for your request and I hope you like it!

Fluff + Suggestive | Boothill x GN!Reader A Few Drinks

CONTENT Fluff, suggestive, him flirting with you, you flirting with him, getting handsy, alcohol consumption, pet name usage, no reader pronouns used, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1227

It was a regular Friday afternoon in your personal workshop situated in your home on a planet not far off from Penacony and easily accessible via space anchors. The planet was mostly made up of plains, your house sat near a pond and was surrounded by grass and your tiny gardens that you filled with flowers and succulents. You were an excellent engineer working both for corporations as well as taking on smaller private contracts/projects occasionally. You were currently working on a specific cyborg’s finger joint, putting the finishing touches on the cybernetics before he came to have it attached to his robotic body.

You heard a familiar clicking of boots against the sidewalk to your open workshop door before an equally familiar greeting from the cyborg cowboy.

“Heya sweetheart, how ya been? Hows my dumb fudging finger treatin ya?” he chirped, his voice slightly grainy and robotic due to a lack of organic vocal chords.

You swivel around in your chair, giving him a small smile. “Your pinky was pretty messed up but I managed,” you replied quietly, a little anxious talking to the -handsome- man you knew killed people on the daily.

“Ah, ya always fix me up fine and dandy, I knew you’d be able to help,” he said as he walked towards your workbench.

You gave him a small chuckle at the praise and turned around to grab the fixed finger. “Thanks… now just have a seat on the-” you were cut off by turning slightly and being met with his face awfully close to yours. He had leaned over your shoulder to take a closer look at your work, his hands held behind his back.

Your eyes widened as you froze for a moment, unintentionally staring at him before looking away. He was looking at your work but when you turned away he took the opportunity to scan over your flustered self, grinning slightly at how cute you were.

You always treated him so sweetly, disregarding what he did for work because you knew about his past. How could he not find you adorable?

He pulled away to walk towards the table that doubled as an operating table when he or your other clients needed bigger fixes.

“Here?” he says knowingly.

You nod quickly before grabbing a few tools and setting up to attach the part back to his synthetic nervous system.

It was a painful few minutes of him watching you intently as you worked. He was sitting up, leaning back on his right hand, legs spread as he got comfy. His left hand was propped up into a sleeve to keep it still as you worked on it. You tried hard to not look up at him despite knowing he was staring down at you the entire time, probably with that teasing grin he always wore around you.

Once you were done and he finished paying you (with a generous tip no less), he suddenly wondered what you’d be doing since the work week just ended.

“So, whadda ya doin after closin’ up shop today? Ya ever go out for Friday happy hour?”

You whipped your head around to him at the mention of drinking before looking down at the ground, hoping you didn’t seem too eager to talk about alcohol.

“Y-yeah, I go every weekend,” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “really? Ya didn’t really strike me as the drinkin’ type darlin’.”

You swallowed at his use of pet name.

“Yeah… it helps me get my mind off work and shit,” you shared with him, figuring it was fine to tell him about it since you already started to get to know each other pretty well during his visits. It was hard to explain, but you trusted him.

“Huh… Well, let’s fudgin’ go then!” He says, jumping off the table. “Lemme know when ya ready darlin”.”

“W-whoa there darlin’” Boothill says for the nth time after you two got to a vintage looking club in the city. You were stumbling a bit as he tried to prevent you from knocking anything over or getting yourself hurt. You kept bumping into him, grabbing onto his arms or his chest to stabilize yourself.

It was your turn to fluster the man.

After all the times he’d made you shy and bashful, him feeling your hands all over him in this context and not during some sort of repair procedure was really setting off his sensors.

You giggled in your drunken state and dragged him by his hand to the crowded dance floor. The current song was just ending and you heard the first few beats of one of your favorite songs. The crowd clearly also liked the song as you all started getting hyped. You started jumping and dancing in front of him as you held his shoulders. You even grabbed the attention of some nearby girls as they encouraged you and you did the same to them.

Boothill’s expression slowly morphed from curious shock to an endearing smirk as he laughed at your total 180 shift in personality as soon as you had a few drinks. His hands found your hips as you continued to dance all over him while he moved with the rhythm.

It was also in this moment that he realized exactly what you were wearing too, it was a pretty, skin tight top and ripped shorts, completely different from the baggy overalls and t-shirt you usually wore in the workshop.

He felt his body’s cooling system kick in a bit harder.

You noticed his eyes on you as you always did, but this time, with alcohol in your system, you decided to do something about it.

You pushed him into a nearby bar stool, forcing him to sit down and lean against the bar counter. You stood between his legs, hands on his chest as you leaned towards his face.

“Thanks for coming out with me Bootie~” you said with your eyes lidded, batting your eyelashes at him. His breath hitched at the sudden nickname usage that you’ve call him by before.

“I’ve been stressed about shit recently but this is fun” you giggle, “we should do it more often,” you add, looking him up and down, something he doesn’t miss.

He relaxes slightly, hands finding their place on your waist again as his signature grin comes out. You could tell he was still pretty flustered though, he was into it, but still a bit shy.

“You’re always looking at me like that, Bootie,” you say as you trace a finger on the underside of his jaw, making him look at you. “I don’t say it when I’m not drunk… but I hope y’know I don’t mind it,” you say with a smile and lidded eyes. Your finger trails off the bottom of his chin as he ever so slightly chases your touch.

You giggle again at his reactions to you, feeling a bit giddy knowing that he was as into you as you were into him.

You push off him to run back to the dance floor, calling out to him with the nickname you just gave him.

The cowboy adjusts his hat before blinking a few times, smiling, and exhaling the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He follows you back to the dance floor as he thinks “I’m fudged.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[linksfunroadtrip]

Link's Fun Commentary - Prologue!

+ sailor design commentary. link's fun extra

Twilight Field, War of Eras...

Sailor starting in Hyrule Warriors and being dropped immediately into Shepherd's era is actually the second pitch for the beginning of the comic, the very First pitch being the first two pages of chapter 1.

More than anything we just wanted to get it done, but we didn't really know what we were doing . We cobbled together a custom font and got right to it. My Fun Facts: All the grass is the same image reused over and over except for when it isn't . Literally all of the smoke was just repeated/moved around. We didn't even really know how to use gradients effectively...

... Which can be seen in these next two panels. LOL.

The work split on this batch set a precedent for sure. @islandlobster took up lining and flat colors, and had the Hard Job of harmonizing our styles, processes, and experiments. Do you see a lot of small, long-form comics with grainy, textured line-art? Maybe no? Well we found out why.

These panels also feature the Only Two Triforces we remembered to draw !!! Oh My God!!!

As much as we struggled, things moved pretty quick from the get-go. Since the prologue is only a handful of pages we didn't really run into the issues we would with chapter 1, especially regarding our complete and utter lack of script. This went straight from thumbnailing to the final result!! (NOT A SUSTAINABLE WAY TO DO A GROUP PROJECT...!)

I wanted to mention though that when I wrote the line above, I wasn't sure if this was how you would spell it for like . a Soldier Troop or a Performance Troupe. Which I just looked up now and found out I Absolutely got them mixed up. so umm. Sorry. Sailor is not in the circus yet.

Cia was just defeated in the main campaign! I felt like such a smart cookie for this one.

She doesn't even know she wont be going home yet‼️ laughing and pointing ‼️

It was an Early idea that Sailor would conveniently miss the time portal transporting the field (with her in it!) back to its era. This was supposed to be a reoccurring bit, but we didn't commit to it too hard going forward, so who's to say if that'll be realized.

The pirate charm plays a big role in the prologue. A little funny because we were absolutely sick to death of drawing it by the end, as well as the fact that it is there in lieu of her red-gem necklace that we forgot to draw. it is Welcome and Unfortunate that it doesn't work anymore, especially because having the chance to name drop like this was very indulgent.

The era of twilight ! Including the locations and times was in the original sketches, but when we found out that our inexperience with backgrounds wasn't lending itself to establishing Where we were, it came in handy. We Agonized over placing the castle and argued* for like a week about how forested the area should be. Luckily we use noclip now, so things have improved as we've moved into chapter 2 :]

Either way, hopefully it wasn't too confusing, and as we introduce new characters the picture will be clearer. We've talked a little bit about returning to the prologue to spiff it up a bit, but we feel we aren't far enough into the comic to make it worthwhile.

and now over to Pea with the weather:

my name is pea islandlobster and you can't tell that it's me because we are writing on the same post but trust okay 🤞 I am here to talk about SAILOR!!!

Sailor has been my baby brainchild before LFRT was even a blip in our minds eye (my proof) and it has been a beautiful indulgence for me to both put her in AND have her be the first Link we meet. YAY!

I have two designs for her, for which I have helpfully made a diagram just for you..! Labeled and everything..!

A: pheww my big one that I have been sitting on forever. Sailor's necklace was constructed over the course of her adventure, initially only having her red gem (given to her by King Daphnes, from his own crown). Four pearls were later added, parting gifts from Oshus and the three spirits. Also intended to mirror the three Goddess pearls from Wind Waker..! and an extra yellow one i guess. triforce? idk

B: Sailor's chipped tooth is a funny one that I will have to make a small comic about at some point. It's not even anything from her adventure. A couple years before WW, Aryll was pretty upset about losing her first tooth, and in typical Link fashion she thought the best way of comforting her was to ALSO lose a tooth. Grandma was not happy.

C: Most Links have a triforce mark, and each one we are giving a reason towards ^.^ Sailor's mark is entirely scar tissue, specifically it is hypertrophic. She held her triforce for only a few days and got it (maybe quite literally) ripped from her by Ganondorf, so take that as you will. Tetra and her are matching yayyy..!

D: Giving her hero outfit it's own section so I can tuck it out of the way lol. A modified version of her original hero outfit, courtesy of shipmate Nudge (guy in the top left). She was a little upset over having to alter Grandma's hard work, but she preserved it where she could. Like her seashell belt! ^_^

E: SIDEBURNS! Not present in the prologue because it has been a recent development but I figured it was worth bringing up. During WoE, as she grows her hair, her sideburns resemble little lobster claws. Cute! In LFRT as grown out as it is, I thought making them swirly as a reference to pretty much every cloud/wind effect used in WW lol.

From a combination of outgrowing stuff and missing home, Sailor was christened with Lobster Shirt 2.0 as we know and love today. Who made it for her? I dunnooo..... let's sit and think about this one.

Phewww. This was a long one - and no doubt the next will be longer - but this is all for now! Feel free to send any questions you might have ^.^ Thank you for all the support! Chapter 2 part 2 soon!

[httpvomitello]

Could I request a mini fic or just one shot where after the 2nd bay movie the NYPD calls them while going over shredders stuff and turns out he has a daughter = us no one knew about and she's Already got a big ass criminal record and them and the nypd with april and casey see an old tape of videos how shredder raised her from baby on and meet her that same night? 🤩

Hello, Sorry it took me so long to write. But I hope you like it anyway! ♡♡♡♡

All For One We Fight Together

*⁠.⁠✧

It was a quiet night in the lair when Donnie’s phone buzzed with an unexpected call. He answered quickly, his expression shifting from surprise to concern as he realized who was on the other end.

“Uh, Leo,” Donnie muttered, lowering his phone. “You’re going to want to hear this.”

The team gathered around as he put the call on speaker. The detective’s voice came through the line. “We could use your help with something. During a raid on Shredder’s property, we found… well, some files. And you’re going to want to see them.”

After a hasty call to April and Casey, the team made their way to the police precinct, slipping in through a side door to avoid drawing too much attention. Inside, a small group of NYPD officers waited, April and Casey beside them.

The detective led them to a dimly lit room, a projector set up with an array of tapes stacked nearby. “Shredder kept some things hidden,” she explained. “What we found… it’s about his daughter.”

“Wait, Shredder had a daughter?” Leo asked, disbelief etched across his face. The brothers exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process this revelation.

“Not just a daughter,” April added, her voice shaky. “She’s got a long record—assault, theft, you name it. And we have no idea how much she knows about all of… this.”

The detective hit play, and the grainy image flickered to life on the screen.

The video began with a darkened room, where a much younger Shredder held a tiny, swaddled baby in his arms. Despite his usual cold demeanor, there was a softness in his expression as he whispered to her, a voice the brothers had never heard before.

“This world is dangerous, my child,” he said, his tone surprisingly tender. “But you will be strong. I will teach you to survive, to be powerful.”

The image faded, replaced by clips over the years: Shredder training you from a young age, teaching martial arts, weapon handling, and tactics. As you grew, your skills sharpened under his strict discipline. He had molded you into a warrior, his successor.

In one clip, you stood bruised and bloodied, looking up at Shredder with fierce determination, not an ounce of fear in your eyes. “Is that all you’ve got?” you spat, a hint of pride flickering in Shredder’s gaze as he watched his daughter push herself to her limits.

Raphael, fists clenched, muttered, “No kid should have to go through that. He didn’t raise her—he trained her like a weapon.”

The final clip showed her, now a young adult, facing Shredder in what looked like a mock combat scenario. You moved with lethal precision, face hardened. Your training had shaped you into something formidable, someone dangerous. The tape ended, the silence in the room thick and heavy.

“So… where is she now?” Leo asked, his voice a low whisper.

The detective glanced at the brothers. “We’ve tracked her to the city. She’s already on the move, and from what we can tell, she’s been active on the streets. She’s… well, she’s got a reputation.”

Casey whistled low. “You guys ready for another potential Shredder-level situation?”

Mikey shook his head. “We’re not dealing with another Shredder. She didn’t choose this—she had it forced on her. We’ve gotta at least try talking to her.”

That night, they found you.

You are perched on a rooftop, your back to them, silhouetted against the neon glow of the city. Your stance was tense, alert, like a predator ready to pounce. They approached slowly, Leo leading with cautious steps.

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?” you called, not even turning to face them. Your voice was cold, calculated, as if she’d been expecting them.

Leo took a deep breath, his tone steady. “We’re not here to fight. We wanted to meet you, to talk.”

Finally, she turned, and the brothers got their first look at Shredder’s daughter. Her gaze was piercing, her expression unreadable, and yet there was a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes.

“You’re the ones who took down my father.” Your eyes narrowed as you assessed each of them. “And now you come here… why?”

Mikey stepped forward. “Because… you’re not him. We saw the tapes. We know how he raised you, but you don’t have to keep living like that.”

The silence between you and the turtles stretched, heavy and tense. You could feel the weight of their sympathy, their misguided attempt to “help” you—though to you, it felt more like pity. Leonardo, was still watching you, his expression unreadable, but the softness in his eyes only deepened your resolve.

“I don't have to live like this?” You scoffed, stepping back, eyes narrowing. “What I don't need is people sticking their noses where they don't belong. Especially not a bunch of do-gooders who think they understand me.”

Raph bristled, fists clenching as he took a step forward. “Oh yeah? Maybe we don’t know everything, but we know you got dealt a crappy hand. That doesn’t mean you gotta be just like him.”

“Like him?” You cut him off, your voice venomous as you glared. “Shredder didn’t make me this way. He prepared me, trained me for a world where weakness gets you killed. You don’t get it. None of you do.” The frustration boiled over, and you clenched your fists, channeling every ounce of your bitterness and resentment.

Leo put his hands up, palms out in a placating gesture. “We’re not your enemy. We just want to help.”

You let out a bitter laugh, backing up into a fighting stance. “Help? Let’s see if you can even keep up.”

Without warning, you launched forward, catching them off guard. Your movements were quick, lethal, honed from years of intense, brutal training under Shredder’s watchful eye. You targeted Donnie first, sweeping his bo staff out from under him with a precise kick, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Raph lunged at you, but you sidestepped him with ease, twisting his arm behind his back and throwing him forward into Mikey, who barely managed to keep his balance. “Raph, wait!” Leo shouted, but it was too late. You’d already struck, and both Mikey and Raph went down, scrambling to regain their footing.

Leo moved in, and he was quick—quicker than you’d expected. His katanas flashed, each strike deliberate as he tried to pin you down, to wear you out without harming you. But you saw through his strategy and dodged, slipping past his guard and knocking one of his blades out of his hand.

Leo stumbled back, clutching his side, but his gaze never wavered. “You don’t have to keep fighting,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Fighting is all I know. If you try to get in my way, you'll be dead.” With that, you spun on your heel, bolting toward the edge of the rooftop. They were still recovering, and before any of them could reach you, you’d leapt off, vanishing into the shadows of the city below.

The brothers watched, stunned, as you disappeared into the night. Mikey rubbed the back of his head, wincing. “Well, she’s got moves. Gotta give her that.”

Raph muttered under his breath, frustration evident. “We should’ve gone harder on her. She’s a real threat.”

Donnie, still catching his breath, sighed. “So what now? Just let her go?”

Leo’s gaze hardened. “We don’t stop watching. We’ll keep an eye on her. Now we know that she is not willing to cooperate with us.”

And with that, the turtles knew they couldn't look down on you. You could be like Shredder or... Something much worse.