#but I have got to keep my feet on the ground
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sparkleofpizza · 2 days ago
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The Alchemy
Lando Norris x fem!reader
Norris and Button traveling around the world together.
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THE 2021 SEASON
PRE SEASON TESTING  Sakhir, Bahrein, 2021 
The McLaren office is silent as I scan over the list of reporters that will be present for the pre-season testing. This is my first time at a testing of Formula 1 and also my first day at the job as not an intern, but as a junior PR assistant. 
I’m nervous, again, just like I was the first day as an intern two years ago. Sophie isn’t here this week, she told me she wanted to see how I’d deal with this by myself, considering pre-season is supposed to be a bit more chill, as I only have to deal with the press and not the fans as well. 
As I finally finish jolting down the necessary notes, I get my phone and smooth down my skirt. I’m trying to appear more professional, wearing a skirt and a button down shirt. 
I walk out of McLaren and onto the eerily quiet paddock. I spot Lando talking to Daniel Ricciardo, his new teammate. The fellow brit waves me over and I smile walking to them. 
“Hey guys.” I smile, standing beside Lando who grins at me. 
Once again I have the same thought as I did earlier this week when I saw Lando for the first time since my five week vacation with my family. What the fuck. 
There was something different about him, I don’t know what it is, but he’s different. I don’t know if he changed something in his hair routine, or is trying out a new workout with his personal trainer. Or if he had an attitude change. There is something different about him, and I can’t get my heart to beat normally around him. 
The two McLaren drivers include me in their conversation and we carry on talking normally. There’s a new dynamic here, Daniel and Lando, the new duo, but they get along well and I can’t help but think that it’s because it’s humanly impossible to dislike Lando. He’s just so… Wow. 
“Mick!” I squeal in delight once I spot the new Haas driver walking side by side with Sebastian. 
Mick Shumacher smiles big once he sees me and I run to him, tackling him with a hug. He catches me with ease and spins me around before putting my feet back on the ground. 
“Oh, I’m so happy to see you here!” 
“I’m happy to see you here, as well!” He says back, matching grin on his face. 
Our eyes are wide and we look like hyperactive children. 
Sebastian sighs dramatically “Will we have to keep you both separated again?” 
Daniel smirks, piping into the conversation. 
“Again?”
Sebastian nods, looking as if he’s in pain. 
“They once set a car on fire.” 
Mick and I yell in protest. 
Daniel’s eyes are wide and Lando arches an eyebrow at me. 
“It was a plastic car.” I explain. 
“And someone who was supposed to be baby sitting us let us loose at the Red Bull garage” Mick complements. 
Daniel laughed delighted, throwing his head back and Lando cracks a small smile, which is extremely unsual of him.
“Hey, don’t put this on me.” Sebastian defends himself “She was an angel and you were an overall well behaved child. How would I know you’d corrupt her sweetness in such a short amount of time?” 
Mick grins as he shrugs “We weren’t that bad.” 
“Didn’t you call Kimi once because you two got drunk and he would be the nicest of the bunch to pick you up?” 
I smile at the memory “Yeah, we called Kimi and he took care of me and then yelled at Mick for being a bad influence.” 
Mick shudders as he recalls the night Kimi Raikonnen yelled at him as he scolded the Shumacher young boy. 
“Oh damn, the iceman went all out on you.” Daniel laughes again. 
This time Lando joins in on the laugher, but his eyes are focused on me and he has his arms crossed. 
Imola, Italy, 2021 
Lando has been a bit weird for past few weeks, ever since Bahrein, which is confusing. Pre season testing went great, the first race of the season he managed to get p4. Still, he was in a kind of bad mood. 
I’ve been watching the race intensely from the McLaren garage, once there are only four laps left, I go wait for him at parc fermé. Lando’s gonna get a podium, the first podium of the season and his second podium of his career. 
I try to keep a professional appearance as I stand at parc ferme. He parks his car at p3. He hasn’t taken off his helmet yet, but I can tell from his body language that he is buzzing with excitement. 
Lewis and Max clap him on the back and he runs to his team. I try to keep a smile at bay, I know there are lots of cameras on me right now, wanting to get the attention of the girl who only got the job because of her daddy. 
He takes off his helmet and balaclava after he weighs down and his eyes lock on me. 
Lando grins, placing his helmet at the table and takes large steps to where I am. Before I can even process he scoops me up in his arms and squishes my body. 
“I got p3.” He mumbled onto my neck. 
“You did. It was amazing.” I smile as I let him continue to squeeze me in a tight hug “Congratulations Lan.” 
“I did that.” He says, emphatically on the I. “You saw what I did, right? You were paying attention to me at the race, weren’t you?” 
I’m a bit confused at what he means by that, but nod. 
“Yes, of course, Lan.” 
“Good.” He mumbled, finally letting go of me, but his hands continued on my body “You’re here with me, Norris and Button traveling the world. No one else is part of that.” 
I nod, still not following what he means by that. Lando stares at me with those beautiful eyes and smiles. 
What is going on? 
Barcelona, Spain, 2021 
The Sainz family, as sweet and welcoming as ever, invited me and Lando to have dinner with them. It's Carlos' home race, but we all still keep our friendship up and his father loves to have us around, mostly Lando who shares his love for golf and I’m pretty sure became an honorary son to him. 
As we sit in a restaurant I take on the opportunity that Lando, who’s across from me, is engaged in a conversation with Caco, so I turn to Carlos. 
“Hey… have you also noticed that Lando has been acting a bit weird this year?” I ask him in a low tone so no one else but me, him and his girlfriend Isa can hear. 
Carlos’ tilt his head to the side a bit confused while Isa smiles fondly at me. 
“No, not really. He’s been normal.” 
Isa lightly taps his arm and they seem to have a silent conversation before Carlos turns to me again, a smile on his face and a glint in his eyes. 
“Oh, pequeñita. You haven’t noticed yet, have you?” 
“Notice what?” I question him, even more confused than before. 
“It’s because of Shumacher.” 
I frown “Mick? What does Mick have to do with Lando’s weird behavior?” 
Isa laughs softly as she leans closer to me. 
“You know what that means, he’s jealous of Mick.” 
I widened my eyes incredulously. 
“Jealous? But why?!” 
The couple share another glance before Carlos pats my head in a sweet but annoying gesture. 
I grow a bit annoyed with the fact that they won’t tell me why, but I decide to keep quiet and not say anything else. I’ll just have to figure it out on my own. 
Le Castellet, France, 2021 
Daniel flanked me through the paddock, a frown on his usual smiley face. He was pissed, I had never seen him pissed off before. 
I had arrived at the paddock with him, Lando had arrived earlier as he rode with Carlos. 
When we got out of the van there were fans waiting for Daniel and he stopped for pictures and autographs. There was a small child with their parents who gushed me over, as they had been Jenson Button’s fans. They asked for a picture and I couldn’t say no when they were so sweet. And that’s when the shit show went down. 
Some fans, overhearing our conversation, started to shout bad words at me. They called me an opportunist, said I didn’t deserve my job, they called me a whore, accused me of sleeping with the drivers so I’d keep my job. 
I was frozen in place, I didn’t know how to react. I had never been publicly hated before, it was already horrible to read those things online, but hearing them being shouted to my face, it was much much worse. 
Daniel snapped the minute he heard those words. He told the fans off, called security and took me inside the paddock and quickly to the McLaren hospitality. 
Lando was lounging on the couch when Daniel slammed the door open, he was on his feet the minute he saw our body language. 
“What happened?” He rushed over to me. When I didn’t say anything he turned to Daniel “What happened?” 
“Some fucking assholes saying fucking bullshit to her.” Daniel answered angrily. 
And it’s like things finally clicked in place and I realized what happened. The tears came out in waves. 
Lando was quick to wrap his arms around me, cradling my head on the crock of his neck. 
Daniel explained to him what the fans had been saying outside the paddock and Lando only held me tighter as I cried. 
“Come on, let’s go to my driver's room.” He mumbled once he realized some of the McLaren staff had been looking at us. “You’ll be much more comfortable there, love.” 
Still keeping me in his arms, he walked me to his driver's room, closing the door shut behind us. He guides me to the couch, sitting me in between his legs and still holding me close. 
Lando caressed my hair as he whispered reassuring words into my ear. 
“I’ll never be good enough for them.” I sob onto his neck “No matter what I do, I will never be able to prove myself. I should just give up… yeah, yeah… I’m gonna quit my job.” 
“Hey, no!” Lando says sternly. He pulls my face off his neck and cups it in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’re not quitting. I’m not letting you give up, that’s not happening. Not now, not ever.” 
He wipes away my tears with his thumbs. 
“You are good enough. You’re more than good enough.” He tells me. “You have been doing an amazing job. You’re not here because of your father.” 
“But my dad helped me get this job.” I protest, still softly crying. 
“Yes, he did help you get the job and you never denied it, you’ve been vocal about getting this jump start.” He nods “But it wasn’t your dad that made you keep the job. It wasn’t your dad that made you get the promotion from intern to junior assistant. It was all you. It was your talent, your professionalism, your hard work. It was you, only you.” 
I stare at him, processing his words. 
“And those assholes that said those things to you? They are nothing but pathetic people who need to put others down to feel good about themselves. You don’t owe them anything. “ 
I nod slowly, my tears finally slowing down as he still has my face in between his hands. Lando smiles softly at me. 
“You are incredible, love, I wish you could see how amazing you are.” 
He leans in, placing a soft tender kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes, enjoining his affection. 
Lando lets go of my face, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he leans back on the couch, making me lie on his chest. One of his hands rests on my hip, holding me close. 
I take a deep breath, snuggling against him and keeping my eyes closed. 
Silverstone, England, 2021 
“And then, he refuses to let her buy her own records!” I exclaim to Lando. “So she didn’t own her own music anymore. The music she worked her whole life on!” 
We were sitting at the McLaren hospitality together. It was way too hot outside at the Silverstone circuit so the two of us were sitting inside, where there was air conditioning, and we were having ice cream. 
“But, Taylor is really smart, and she decided to re-record her albums. So if there is a Taylor’s version after it it means she owns it. And she releases songs from the vault that are songs she wrote originally for that album but that got cut off.” 
Lando nods along to what I’m saying, a small smile on his lips. 
“And she’s releasing… purple Taylor’s version in November?” He asks me. 
I chuckle, “It’s red Taylor’s version.” 
“Oh, I see…” he hums “Why red?” 
“It’s her favorite color. Oh, I can’t wait to dress in full red on the release album date.” 
“That’s a no.” He shakes his head. 
I tilt my head to the side confused “What do you mean that’s a no?” 
“I’m not letting you dress in red! Red is Ferrari’s color and you're a McLaren girl.” 
I place a spoonful of chocolate ice cream in my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue before smiling mischievously at him. 
“Everybody is a Ferrari fan.” I tease him.
“No! No! You’re not quoting Sebastian Vettel to me!” He exclaims dramatically “I already lost my best friend to Ferrari, I can’t lose my girl too!” 
I felt the blush taking control of my cheeks when he called me his girl. 
“Not happening. Doesn’t she have a papaya album?” 
I shake my head, still a bit dazed with his words. 
“The closest she has to an orange tone is her evermore album that is more of a terracota.” 
Lando nods “That works for me, it’s better than a red themed one.” 
I giggle at him, poking his side.
“I can’t believe you’re mad over an album color theme.” 
He rolls his eyes, but he has an affectionate smile on his face. 
Magyórod, Hungry, 2021 
The knocking on the door startled me awake. I jump in bed, rubbing my eyes as I click on the screen of my phone. It’s midnight. I frown wondering who it could be at this time of night. 
I throw the blankets to the side as I pad quietly to the door. I open just a tiny bit to see who it is. 
Lando smiles big when he sees my face. I sigh in relief that it’s a familiar person, I open the door wider and there he is. Standing in a hoodie and sweatpants and holding a birthday cake. 
“Happy birthday!” He exclaims.
I widen my eyes, having completely forgotten it is my birthday. 
“Thank you, Lan!” I smile, stepping to the side to let him into the room. 
Lando walks to the table and places the cake there. I follow him close behind as I look at the beautifully decorated cake. In a cursive letter it’s written I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22! 
“Oh my god, you got me a Taylor Swift birthday cake!” 
Lando grins before wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head. 
“Of course, how couldn’t I get a 22 birthday themed cake for the 22 year old girl who’s obsessed with Taylor Swift?” 
I smile as I squeeze him in the hug. 
“You’re the best of the best of the best!” I squeak happily. 
He smiles before kissing my temple.
“You only deserve the best.” 
We stayed hugging for a few more minutes, enjoying the hug before pulling away. I smile at him again, that’s all I do when I’m around him, and I grab his hand pulling him towards the bed. 
“Sleep over?” I ask softly as he sits together in the fluffy bed. 
“Yes.” He nods. 
Lando looks nervous for a moment and I get concerned I might have crossed a boundary of asking him to stay over, although it won’t be the first time we slept on the same bed. 
He sighs before putting his hand inside his hoodie pocket and pulling out a velvet box from inside of it. He smiles nervously before handing it to me. 
“Your birthday present.” He mumbled 
I gasp as I open the box. Inside of it there’s a beautiful gold necklace, the pendant is a heart with its outside full of tiny pink swarovskis. I take the delicate jewelry in my hands as I turn it around, on the back of the heart it’s written LN. 
“Lando…” I murmur 
“I-I wanted to have my… my initials on it so you ’d… so you’d always have me close to you.” He mumbled awkardly, his cheeks pink.
“It’s beautiful.” I smile “I love it. Thank you.” 
I turn back to him and pull my hair to the side “Can you put it on me, please?”
“Y-yeah.” 
Lando’s hands are a bit shaky as he places the necklace around my neck, his fingertips bringing goosebumps to my skin. 
I turn around again and his eyes fall to my neck and chest, where the heart necklace he gave me rests. He smiles proudly. 
“It looks beautiful on you.” He said, lifting his eyes to look at me “You’re beautiful.” 
I smile, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek. 
“Thank you, Lan. I’m never taking this off.” 
He grins harder, leaning over and placing a kiss on my cheek as well. 
SUMMER BREAK 
Mallorca, Spain, 2021 
“Retirement huh?” I ask Kimi Raikkonen as we’re enjoining the beach in Mallorca 
It’s not usual for the Raikkonen family to join us during summer break, along with the Rosbergs and Vettels. Lewis used to come along with Roscoe but since his fallout with Nico he never joined us again - even after when I was seventeen and I called him crying asking him to join us because my dad was retiring and we should all spend one last summer together. He came, after Nico left. Those dramatic middle aged men. 
Kimi gives me a lazy smile, which also isn’t usual contrary to popular belief. He has his sunglasses on and is building a sandcastle with me and his two children, Robin and Rianna. 
“Eh, racing is a hobby and I got tired of it.” He shrugs “Now I’m more into dirty bike riding.” 
I chuckle, shaking my head “Somehow that sounds even worse than driving cars in circles.” 
Robin gives me a bright smile as he says “Don’ wowwy, I race car soon in Formula 1 and you cheer I!” 
I smile at him, ruffling his blonde hair “Of course, Rob! I wouldn’t dare to cheer for anyone else but you!” 
The little boy seems content as he goes back to building the sandcastle. Rianna actually grew bored of it a few minutes ago and is now busy with playing, tugging, at my hair. 
“Who’s he?” Kimi asks suddenly. 
“What?” I frown confused. 
“The boy who gave you the necklace.” 
“Oh.” I feel my cheeks warm up, truth to my words I have indeed been wearing the necklace Lando gave me all the time. “Lando gave me as a birthday gift.” 
I can see the furrow on Kimi’s eyebrows even if he’s wearing sunglasses. 
“That thing made a move on you?!” He exclaims “I’m running him off track when we’re back from summer break.” 
“What? No!” I shake my head “It’s just a necklace.” 
“A custom heart shaped necklace! It’s like he has a death wish or something.” He whips his head to the side “Sebastian! Come here! Now!” 
Seb, who was peacefully napping under the umbrella, sits startled at Kimi’s urgent call. He runs to us. 
“Norris made a move on her!” 
“What?” Sebastian asks scandalized “He did what? That little asshole!” 
“He didn’t do anything, Seb.” I explain as I point to my necklace “Kimi is just freaking out over the birthday gift Lando gave me.” 
Seb sits on the sand beside me, leaning closer to scan the necklace. 
“Yeah, I’m running him off track when the summer break is over.” 
“That’s what I said!” Kimi smiles big “We’re running him off track together so he doesn’t have anywhere to escape to.” 
Seb hums, nodding his head “That’s a good plan.” 
I look at them in exasperation “No one is running anyone off track.” 
They ignore me as they keep plotting. 
“Hey!” I snap at them and the two grown men finally look at me “Lando and I are just friends, stop this. And even if we weren’t, I’m 22, I’m allowed to date.” 
They share a look before laughing. 
“No, you’re not allowed to date.” Seb says, still chuckling “You’re funny, prinzessin.” 
I glare at them but they only continue to laugh at me. 
“You’re still the first pieni vauva, you always will be.” Kimi grins at me “And that means you’re only allowed to date when you’re… fifty.” 
“You’re both ridiculous.” I scoff but I have a small smile on my lips. 
Deep down I know they don’t actually mean it. But I have to keep an eye out so that they won’t threaten Lando or something like that. 
Monza, Italy, 2021 
“You’re here!” Lando yelled over the loud music, arms open wide and a drink in his hand. He was for sure already drunk. 
Daniel had won the Monza Grand Prix and Lando came just in second, it was the first time in his F1 career he had gotten p2. The team had decided to go out to celebrate at a club and some other drivers joined in - Max Verstappen, who had a terrible race and dnf, was there drinking the night away to celebrate his best friend and also drown his feelings. 
I stepped up to where Lando stood and smiled at him. 
“Yeah, sorry it took me too long.” I let him hug me “I couldn’t decide what to wear.” 
Lando grabbed my hand, twirling me around and whistling as my sparkly short blue dress shone under the club lights. 
“You certainly made a great choice.” He smirked at me “You look incredible.” 
I feel my cheeks grow warm. 
“Thank you.” 
I went over to the bar to order myself a drink and Lando followed me close behind. As I stood leaning over the bar to order my drink, I could feel his warm chest against my back. 
I stood up straight as I waited for the bartender, and I tilted my head to the side to look at Lando who was already looking down on me. 
He's wearing a simple white shirt and jeans, but he’s wearing his damn cap backwards. He always looks fucking good when he wears it backwards and it actually makes me weak in the knees seeing him so up close like this, his chest pressed against my back.
I’m snapped out of it when the bartender hands me my drink. I thank him before letting Lando lead me back to where the rest of our group is. I sip on my drink, letting the alcohol flow through me and relax me. 
Carlos is dancing with Charles while Max laughs at their terrible moves. Daniel is screaming the music as he hugs Zac and they both sway side to side. 
I can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they look. 
Lando grins at me as he’s sitting on a stool, his left arm resting on top of the table. 
“Come here.” He says as he wiggles two of his fingers for me to get closer. 
When I’m at reach distance, he turns me around and pulls me to stand in between his legs. My back hits his chest and he wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me close. 
My breath hitches as he does this so effortlessly and as if it’s normal to hug me from behind. 
“They’re gonna be all over Instagram and Twitter tomorrow.” Lando whispers in my ear “They look ridiculous.” 
I chuckle “They really do.” I sip my drink “Aren’t you gonna join them?” 
I feel his laugh against the side of my face. 
“Are you calling me ridiculous?” He asks in feign hurt. 
I giggle, craning my neck a bit to the side so I can see his face. He has a smug smile on his lips. 
“You ridiculous? Never!” I giggle harder when he squeezes my waist in a playful warning “It’s just that usually you’re the life of the party and right now you’re sitting on a stool drinking peacefully.” 
Lando smiles, his dimples even more evident as the pulsing lights of the club shine on his face. 
“Can you blame me for wanting to stay here with the prettiest girl in the club?” 
Once again I feel my cheeks grow warm, but since I’ve already had drunk, my mind is a bit dazed so I smile at him. 
“Really? And where is this pretty girl?” I ask him in a tease. 
He smirks, squeezing my waist again and relishing in me squirming against his chest. 
“She’s right here… in my arms.” He mumbled before placing a long lasting kiss on my cheek. “The prettiest girl in the club.” He moves his lips a bit down and kisses my jaw “The prettiest girl I have ever seen.” 
I feel my heart flutter in my chest at his words and at his touch. I know he’s drunk and doesn’t mean any of it, but for a night I can pretend he does mean it, so I let him hold me close. 
Cidade do México, México, 2021 
“Oh, Mick…” I whisper as I hug him, softly rubbing his back “It’s okay… this kind of thing happens.” 
Mick huffs annoyed against my shoulder. He crashed into Yuki Tsnuoda during the race today and they both had a DNF. 
“You’re both rookies… that’s normal to happen.” 
I apparently said the wrong thing because the German boy lifted his head from my shoulder, our face millimeters apart as he glared at me. 
“Don’t say things that aren’t true.” He mumbled angrily “You’re not even a driver.” 
I narrowed my eyes at him “There’s no need to take out your frustration on me, I’m not the one who crashed your car.” 
We keep staring at each other, waiting for the other to back down. Eventually Mick sighs and goes back to burying his head on my shoulder as he continues to complain about it being unfair. 
I don’t say anything, knowing that if I do we will end up having a fight, just like it happened when we were younger and he crashed into Formula 3 - he kept whining about the crash that had been his own fault and I called him out on it. We didn’t speak for three weeks. 
“There you are!” Lando’s voice cut through the silence of one of the cool down rooms of the paddock. 
He gave Mick an unimpressed look and a glare. 
“Hi, Lan.” I smile at him. 
Ever since our little encounter at the club right after the Monza Grand Prix things between us have been different. He certainly kept touching me every chance he got and I wasn’t going to complain about it when in reality I loved to be wrapped in his arms. 
“I need you for something.” He said, and I tilt my head confused as I was off the clock “It’s important. Please.” 
“Sure.” I nod as Mick lifts his head from my shoulder and away from me “Take care, Mick.” 
The Shumacher boy looks at me with a slight pout of being deprived of comfort after his DNF, but didn’t say anything as Lando grabbed my hand and got me out of the cooldown room. 
We walked in silence for a moment before we entered the paddock’ parking garage. Lando opened the back door of the van and helped me up inside before sitting beside me and taping the driver on the shoulder to signal we’re ready to go. 
“So… burritos?” He asked. 
“What?” I blink at him 
“Do you want burritos for dinner? And some tacos? And nachos?” 
“I… you…” I’m at a loss of words for a moment as I catch up to what he’s done “You called me here to help you because you want dinner?” 
Lando nods, a sly smile on his face as he shifts his body on the back seat to take a better look at me. 
“Yes, I’m hungry. That’s why I need your help, to have dinner with me.” 
I can’t help but laugh at his audacity and then a memory comes up to my brain. Back in Spain, at the beginning of the season when I asked Carlos about Lando acting weird and Isa told me he was jealous. Jealous of Mick. 
“Why don’t you like Mick?” I ask, catching him off guard. 
Lando is momentarily stunned before he shakes his head. 
“I do not not like him.” 
“Yes, you do.” I say, a slight frown on my forehead “Whenever I’m with him you’re either glaring, snappy or you find excuses to drag me away.” 
He avoids my eyes for a moment, looking at the rooftop of the car before finally looking at me again. 
“It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that…” he trails off and is quiet again for a moment before he grumbles “He hogs all your attention.” 
“Oh God, he’s my childhood friend and I don’t even spend that much of a time with him.” 
“Do you like him?” He asks me. 
I look at him stunned “What?” 
Lando rolls his eyes “Do you like Shumacher? Like, do you have a crush on him or something?” 
“No. He’s my childhood friend.” I repeat my words from earlier. “Why?”
He shrugs and won’t look at me. 
I huff “Don’t do this, Lando.” 
He looks at me from the corner of his eyes “Don’t do what?” 
“You know very well what I’m talking about.” I cross my arms over my chest. 
He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. We both look at the opposite windows of the car, watching as Mexico City passes by in a blur. 
Doha, Qatar, 2021 
Lando and I weren’t talking. Well, mostly he wasn’t talking to me after Mexico. During the Brazilian Grand Prix and his 22nd birthday, I snuck into his hotel room and left this gift there. 
It was a small golden bracelet, it had his full name and race number on it. I left a sweet message alongside it, hoping he would get the hint of what I meant. I guess he did get the hint and didn’t like it because I woke up after the Brazilian Grand Prix to see Instagram and Twitter flooded with pictures of him making out with some girl at a club in São Paulo. 
And now I was the one not talking to him because he has been texting me and calling me non stop on the two week break in between races. 
I asked Sophie to take care of this scandal of him as I had never dealt something like that before and didn’t know where to start, so I just stayed on the sidelines watching her do her job and learning - in all honesty I just didn’t want to have to deal with him after seeing him kiss some random girl. 
I was heartbroken and I didn’t want to let anyone know about it because if Kimi or Seb caught wind of this… I might be sad, but I’d like to keep Lando alive. 
“Stop looking so sad…” Daniel pokes my arm “Those big sad eyes of yours… I can’t handle it.” 
We were sitting together as we were waiting for the press conference to begin. 
“I’m not sad.” I lied, “I’m just tired.” 
“C’mon!” He all but whines “We’ve been working together for almost a year now, I know you’re lying.” 
I don’t say anything so Daniel keeps talking “He’s sad too, you know.” 
I give him a side eyed glance as I mumble “I don’t know who is this he you’re referring to.” 
He sighs exasperated. 
“You should talk to him.” He says after a few minutes of silence “Lando misses you.” 
“No. I got his message loud and clear.” I shake my head, feeling the stupid tears gather in my eyes once again “I don’t need him to say it to my face. From now on we’re just… work colleagues.” 
“But you’re not just work colleagues, you’re way more than that and you know it. Also, you both are dumb asses who got this all wrong.” 
I turn to look at Daniel, the stubborn tears ready to spill out onto my cheeks. 
“How did I get it wrong, Daniel? I wrote him a note basically saying he’s the best thing that has ever happened in my life and that he meant so much more to me than just a friendship that blossomed because of work.” I say wobbly as I refused to let the tears roll down from my eyes “And he went out and kissed someone else. Things have never been more clear to me. I was just a fool and stupid.” 
Daniel says my name softly, but I shake my head. 
“The press conference is about to start, get in the room. I’ll be waiting for you here.” 
The Australian man sighs before nodding and following my instructions. He gives me one more look over the shoulder and I hate how he seems to pity me right now. 
Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2021 
I didn’t go to the anual Abu Dhabi McLaren end of season party. Instead I went out to dinner with the Raikkonen family. 
Tonight has been Kimi’s last race of his Formula 1 career and I wanted to be there with him for his last night. I’ve known him my whole life, I was the flower girl at his wedding and I had been the first baby in his life. Right now being with family seems better. I need this. 
I decided not to be secretive about my motives of not being at the McLaren party as I posted a picture hugging Kimi on Instagram. 
Old man retired. Now that you’re out of f1 I can finally say it: you’ve always been my favorite. Love you Setä Kimi 🥺💙
After dinner, Sebastian drove me back to the hotel. He had been quiet most of the night and I can tell he is sad. All of his friends have retired, now it’s just him, Lewis and Fernando who have decided to come back. 
Once we’re out of the car and entering the elevator I turn to him. 
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to leave as well.” I whisper. 
He chuckles softly “I can’t say I’m not considering it. I’m getting old.” 
“No, you’re not old.” I shake my head. “You’re not even forty yet!” 
“But I’m not at my prime anymore. I only got one podium this year.” 
“That doesn’t mean anything.” I argued back. “You switched teams, you’re still getting used to the car! You can’t leave!” 
Suddenly it was like it had all hit me at once, the changes of it all. Kimi was leaving, he isn’t coming back next year. I’m not talking to Lando, who has been by my side since I started this job. And now Seb wants to leave as well. 
“Hey, prinzessin, no, please don’t cry.” 
I didn’t even notice the tears falling down my face as Sebastian hugged me tight. He caressed my hair in a soothing manner, like he used to do when I was a child. 
We were standing in the middle of the hallway of the hotel. He rocked me gently in his arms, shushing me. 
When I finally calmed down, Sebastian spoke again, his voice gentle. 
“You need to talk to Lando.” 
Before I could protest he continued to talk. “I know you’re not only crying because Kimi is leaving and I’m considering retirement. You need to talk to help, fix things between you two before it’s too late.” 
“There’s nothing to fix…” I whisper sadly “He… I… I really like him, Seb. But he doesn’t feel the same way.” 
“You’re kidding right?” He chuckled amused “That boy is head over heels for you.” 
I open my mouth, but once again he cuts me off “I know what he did. He told me.” 
“He… told you?” I question with a frown “And you’re still telling me to go talk to him?” 
Sebastian nodded “Yes. He was desperate, he misses you so much and doesn’t know what to do anymore to get you to talk to him. He’s… hopeless, but he likes you too.” 
When Sebastian left me in my hotel room, tucked into bed warm and safe with a kiss on the forehead, I kept replaying his words in my mind. 
Lando likes me. That sounds weird. But I also know Sebastian would never ever lie to me about something like that. 
I text Daniel asking him if Lando has already left the party. Daniel answers me with a yes in big bold letters and lots of exclamation marks. 
I pace back and forth in my hotel room before slipping on my shoes. I open the mini fridge and get to mini liquor bottles. I dart out of my room and soon enough I’m standing in front of Lando’s room. 
I take a deep breath before I knock on the door. 
There are a few moments of silence, I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. I hear the lock turn and soon enough Lando is standing in front of me. His green eyes are rimmed red and he looks like he has been crying. 
He whispers my name, a slight tone of disbelief. 
“We didn’t toast to another year of Norris and Button traveling the world together.” I say. 
We stare at each other before he smiles and ushers me inside. 
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 hours ago
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I'm wild about this fic!! The tension, the angst, the way I want to bite her!! (Or have her bite me, I'm not picky) I'm actually so down bad for Jay Todd and OP is feeding us sooo well with this fic! I talk about my fav parts below the cut:
It's her eyes you recognize first, oddly enough, through her cracked helmet. You shouldn't recognize her at all, with how everything about her has changed. Even the way she looks at you is different. You've never seen Jay Todd so ferocious.
FERAL!! insane opener. Like yesss her eyes. A girl could get lost in them and the sigh I just let out was so dreamy fr
Okay, you lied. This wasn't an accident. This was fate that you played a hand in. This was what was bound to happen after Jay got too close, let herself get seen. You've had an itch for months, eyes on your back. You're a civilian now, sure, but you loved a bat once.
On my knees! Especially that last line, you loved a bat, and even if you aren't part of their world anymore, you know enough to remember what it felt like. And the reader hunting Jay down to see her again?? She's so me. As if I would be okay with fumbling such a baddie after everything we've been through
Jay drops her gun, grabs your wrists, and knocks the wind out of you in a graceful takedown. You can't even be mad.
giggling and batting my eyes
When she was Robin, you had a slim chance of physically overtaking her. Now, double in size and muscle, Jay keeps you pushed to the ground with no chance of getting free. Her hands hold you by your wrists, body hovering close so you can't move much.
GIGGLING AND BATTING MY EYES. Just give me a chance!! ah, this whole paragraph has me glued to my screen. I might have stopped breathing. There's so much tension because of what they were and what happened and what they could be. Ahh!
"Jay," you say softly, unable to keep your eyes fixed on one part of her. You're afraid to blink and make her disappear.
owwww
"You're a good shot." You mean it as a compliment. Jay only seems to get angrier.
Reader is whipped and that is an accurate representation of me. Got me over here starry eyed and kicking my feet
"Stop talking like that!" she yells, tears in her eyes. "Stop talking like we're friends. We aren't friends. You don't know me!" "But I do," you say, limp beneath her, like a lamb caught in a wolf's bite. "Jay, I do."
UGh this is so visceral. Like there's the joy of seeing her again, being near her. And then there's the crushing hurt of why she's been gone for so long. Why there's the smell of iron in the air and she's yelling at you and trying to push you away.
Jay's mouth quivers as she bares her teeth. "I took you to that diner. It was mine first." "It never stopped being yours," you say quietly.
oooh! I gasped over this reveal
"You're fuckin' deluded," she says, eyes glassy with tears. "Fuckin'—sleep so heavy, like I can't slip in and smother you. No one would know. Make tea in your-your robe, don't even pull the curtains shut. I can see you. Anyone can."
!! wow. I don't have words but I do know that I covered my mouth with my hand when I read this.
"I missed you, Jay," you say, a heart-shaped lump in your throat. "And so what?" she asks, tears falling down her cheeks. "So fuckin' what if you missed me? You kept living."
Sobbing over them
Jay is perfectly still for several moments. Then she wraps two big hands around your ribs, pulls your shoulders forward like nothing, and rests her cheek on your chest.
We all need hugs after this one fr. Seriously, it was good!! The hurt HURT and I actually went crazy over Jay. 💙💙💙
Femjay you say 👀 how about the classic "you're alive?!" confrontation with a sprinkle of pining
sprinkle of pining you say-oh dear! i've dumped the whole bag in! along with a jar of erotic violence! whoopsies...
female!jason todd x afab!reader. violence, angy jay, reader being held down, crying, reunion. remember that girl best friend you had highkey lesbian tension with? yeah.
****
It's her eyes you recognize first, oddly enough, through her cracked helmet. You shouldn't recognize her at all, with how everything about her has changed. Even the way she looks at you is different. You've never seen Jay Todd so ferocious.
"You weren't supposed to be here!" she screams.
It's true, you weren't. You stumbled across your dead best friend by accident, found her hissing and vicious with a shattered helmet and a smoking gun. Four dead men surround her.
"Get out."
All you can do is stare. She's alive. She's back. She's yours.
"Jay..."
Okay, you lied. This wasn't an accident. This was fate that you played a hand in. This was what was bound to happen after Jay got too close, let herself get seen. You've had an itch for months, eyes on your back. You're a civilian now, sure, but you loved a bat once.
She pries off her helmet and your breath hitches. God, she's beautiful.
"What is wrong with you? You could've fuckin' gotten shot."
Your legs start moving. Your arms part. You expect the feel of a soft cape between your fingers, black curls to tickle your chin due to a height difference you never let her forget.
Jay drops her gun, grabs your wrists, and knocks the wind out of you in a graceful takedown. You can't even be mad.
"You're alive," you choke out.
When she was Robin, you had a slim chance of physically overtaking her. Now, double in size and muscle, Jay keeps you pushed to the ground with no chance of getting free. Her hands hold you by your wrists, body hovering close so you can't move much.
Her eyes are wild. A mix of blue and green. More green than you remember. Her irises have swallowed her pupils and her curls are knotted and frizzy. You feel inexplicably hunted.
"How dare you?" she spits. "How fuckin' dare you come here?"
"Jay," you say softly, unable to keep your eyes fixed on one part of her. You're afraid to blink and make her disappear.
"I could've shot you," she says. "You could be dead right now."
"You're a good shot."
You mean it as a compliment. Jay only seems to get angrier.
"I have to be. I'm the only one keeping myself alive," she says. You make a weak noise in your throat.
"I should've looked for you," you say.
She scoffs. "Don't say stupid shit. You're smarter than that."
"I should've," you insist. "I should've found you. I felt you."
"Yeah? Feel how I could tear you apart? It comes so easy now, you have no idea. 'M fuckin' soaked with blood."
You stay silent. Jay's eyes flash. She leans in, breath hot on your ear.
"Are you scared?" she asks like she knows the answer.
But she doesn't.
Your legs part further so she can kneel comfortably. You shake your head.
Jay snarls. "You should be. I've killed people. I'll keep killing."
"It's okay," you say. "You're angry. It's okay to be angry. I don't blame you. No one does."
"Stop talking like that!" she yells, tears in her eyes. "Stop talking like we're friends. We aren't friends. You don't know me!"
"But I do," you say, limp beneath her, like a lamb caught in a wolf's bite. "Jay, I do."
"No, you don't," she snaps. Her voice is mocking, brittle. "You know your fancy publishing job in a big shiny office, away from this shithole, and-and fuckin' Paul from Marketing who brings you banana pancakes from the diner."
Your breath comes out in a careful exhale. "You've been keeping tabs on me. How long have you been back?"
Jay's mouth quivers as she bares her teeth. "I took you to that diner. It was mine first."
"It never stopped being yours," you say quietly.
"You—" Jay growls in frustration. Her hands squeeze your wrists. "This isn't how it's s'posed to go. Hate me, hate me. I'm a monster."
"You're not."
"You're fuckin' deluded," she says, eyes glassy with tears. "Fuckin'—sleep so heavy, like I can't slip in and smother you. No one would know. Make tea in your-your robe, don't even pull the curtains shut. I can see you. Anyone can."
"I missed you, Jay," you say, a heart-shaped lump in your throat.
"And so what?" she asks, tears falling down her cheeks. "So fuckin' what if you missed me? You kept living."
You try to pull your hand free, and to your surprise, you do. Jay lets you slip out of her grip. You use your free hand to hold her scarred cheek, wipe her tears with your thumb.
Jay is perfectly still for several moments. Then she wraps two big hands around your ribs, pulls your shoulders forward like nothing, and rests her cheek on your chest. She shakes into your skin, kneeling between your legs.
You hug her head, smell her new-old smell, and let her curls tickle your chin once again.
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karmasloverrr · 12 hours ago
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godspeed - rafe cameron
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pairings- rafe cameron x maybank reader, established relationship
SZN 4 SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!!! you’ve been warned
this takes place in ep 10 right after everyone’s fighting and all that
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The adrenaline was still running through your vains, like the hot, dusty sand you all found yourself in over the past couple of hours. Your hands are shaking, can’t fully grasp the weight of what you’ve just done.
“Baby?” You snap out of your shocked haze when a pair of comforting, familiar hands come to rest on the side of your waist , “a-are you ok?” His blue, stress ridden eyes bore into yours.
You take a shaky breath in, letting the gun you held drop to the ground below your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you jump up into him. “He almost killed you, Rafe. I thought I was gonna lose you, I-I didn’t have any other choice, he was so close to-“, your rambling was paused by him shushing you quietly and rubbing a hand soothingly up and down your back, his other gripping the back of your head like his life depended on it.
“I know, I know, breathe Y/N, breathe” You were sobbing now. Not out of remorse for one of Dalia’s men, whom you had just shot dead out of defense for Rafe, but because you almost lost the love of your life.
Rafe pulls away, still keeping a hand on your back, keeping you close. “You just saved my life, Y/N. I’m so proud of you for being strong, it’s gonna be ok.” He was now using a thumb to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.
You nod frantically in understanding, sniffiling and leaning into his palms touch. Bringing a hand to his on your cheek, you intertwine fingers. “Are you o-ok? I mean you almost just got stabbed, Rafe. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if-“. He places both hands on your face now, demanding your attention.
“Hey, listen to me. You did exactly what I would’ve done if you were just in my situation, ok? Hell, I would’ve beat that fuckers face in before I let him get the chance to even go near you so don’t overthink this for a second, do you understand? I love you so much.”
You licked your lips and nodded. After Rafe had told you to stay with Kiara when he went to bide JJ some time with the crown, he got into trouble with one of Dalia’s men and hadn’t come back. You couldn’t stay still knowing he was by himself.
Despite protest from Kiara and how your brother needed you right now, you ran to look for Rafe. You could hear the sound of distress and punches being thrown before you could see them. Even through poor visibility you knew it was Rafe, your Rafe, being attacked. As you got closer you could see that he was being held at knife point and without thinking you pulled the gun out that rested at your hip and fired at the man’s back.
With JJ’s constant tutorials and a little bit of practice over the years you hit your target dead on. Except this time it wasn’t a beer bottle or a teddy bear, it was a human being and nothing could’ve prepared you for that.
Rafe continued to try and work you down from the shock and complete panic, rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your hairline. He eventually brought a smile onto your face when he praised your accuracy and said how bad ass it was, “that’s my girl”.
“It was kind of badass wasn’t it?” He let out a laugh at your rebuttal. Even in your state of mind, the sound of it made your stomach tingle with butterflies.
“If I’m gonna be honest, after I realized what just happened and saw you standing there, I got a little turned o-“, you scoffed at his antics and pushed him away from you playfully. “Shut up.”
He pulled you back into him before you got any farther, wrapping both arms around your waist, in turn you grabbed his biceps, looking into the eyes that you love so much.
You let your smile fade a little when you saw his eyes glaze over, knowing he was about to get emotional.
“I’m serious, Y/N. You saved me and I couldn’t possibly thank you enough, please don’t feel guilty or anything like that. I would do anything for you too, y’know that.”
“I know, and seeing you like that, in that danger, made me sick and I-I just blacked out.” He nodded slowly in understanding, “but I’d do it again if it meant that you were ok.” you continued.
You were now the one stroking his arms in comfort, his head nodding up and down telling you he was processing it all. Now putting yourself on your tip toes to reach his face, you placed your lips on his in a loving kiss.
Pulling away, you placed your forehead on his. “It’s you and me, Cameron. Always.” He pulled away and placed a loving peck on the crown of your head, “Damn right, sweetheart.”
Taking his hand in yours, you began to walk back towards the direction that Kiara and JJ were. “Let’s go see if J found this fucking thing.”
Rafe scoffed but followed your lead, “I’ve had enough of this fairytale pogue sh-“, you gave him a ‘really?’ look, to which he held his hand up in defense and shrugged.
“They’ve made it this far, you’ve gotta hand it to them and besides, this is a little exciting don’t you think?”
He frowned and shook his head, “Almost just got stabbed to death but yeah, sure, having a grand old time.” You giggled at his sarcasm, used to it by now.
Walking up the hill, you exaggeratedly began to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to which he protested against immediately stating “this isn’t a rom-com, please stop” but deep down, he loved seeing you make light out of a shitty situation.
He knows it’s due to you being so used to doing it because of Luke growing up, which never fails to make his heart beat in rage, but everything in his world is ok, perfect, when he gets to see you smiling like this.
When you both reach the top, there’s an absence of your little brother and Kiara that causes your smile and stomach to drop. The sandstorm passed yet they’re still nowhere in sight.
“JJ?” you call out, in hopes that they’re possibly somewhere in ear range. Nothing.
“J! Kie! Guys?” You let go of Rafe’s hand, heading to go circle around the statue.
“Woah, don’t go by yourself. If they’re someplace close by they sure as hell didn’t stick around here, let’s head back towards the buildings. They probably met back up with John B and Sarah.”
You shook your head, “No, if they got the crown and were ok, they would’ve just came and found us. Rafe, somethings not right.” You started to head more towards the statue in hopes that they went a different direction but Rafe steps infront of you before you can get any further.
“Hey, stop. I know you’re worried but incase you forgot, it’s not just them that Daria’s men are looking for, ok? I’m not letting you get hurt in the process of trying to find them.”
You took the arm that he held out to his side as a barrier and shoved it. “Rafe, that’s my brother, please we need to at least look around the area and see-“ He began to side step along with you so you couldn’t move around him.
“I understand that, Y/N/N, but let’s use the brain I know you have and think rationally, alright? They probably went back with the group assuming we were there too, ok? Let’s start there.”
You shook your head in annoyance, you’ve always been stubborn and you’re certainly not budging about this. “All I’m saying, Rafe, is that we check around the area first, m-maybe they didn’t hear me when I yelled.”
“Baby, please listen to m-“
“John B! Pope! Y/N!”
You whipped your head to the direction of Kiara’s wail echoing through the air. A sound of desperation like you’ve never heard and don’t wanna hear again. “Oh my god.” you whispered in fear.
Rafe looked at you with agony in his eyes, recognizing the same fret in her voice that you did. Without any hesitation you took off down the hill, not listening to Rafe’s protest to “wait for him”.
Your mind was moving as fast as your legs, you didn’t know where you were going but it’s like your body knew exactly where to take you.
Weaving down and through the same maze like corridors that you had escaped from earlier led you closer to the sounds of your friends, “Kie?”, you yelled out in despair, now acknowledging Rafe’s footsteps a few seconds behind you.
You felt the room before you saw it, your stomach already declaring that somethings wrong, very wrong. Before you could brace yourself, you saw the image infront of you. Blood. John B shaking him. Kiara with her head on his chest and hands on his stomach. JJ.
“JJ?” you didn’t even recognize your own voice as it barely came out of your mouth, cracking and whispery, desperate and defeated.
Stumbling to a halt against Rafe’s chest, you felt your legs giving out from underneath you, a pair of arms coming to catch you before you collapsed. No, not him, please God, don’t do this to me, no. Rafe’s arms were the only thing keeping you stable while you began to crumble, him collapsing down to the floor with you as weeps exited your mouth, shaking your whole body.
You didn’t have to look at him very long to know he’s gone, you could feel it. Sobs and pleads from the group didn’t register against your own. It sounded so foreign coming out of your body. “He’s dead” you sobbed, physically feeling your heart breaking. “JJ, no”, you wailed. Your head feels a thousand pounds as you slowly lift it off the ground.
Rafe has his own placed against the top of your spine, his forehead making a known presence on your back, still gripping your arms as if you’ll go too if he doesn’t. To the best of your ability you try to stand, legs still feeling mush as you feel Rafe’s touch disappear the closer you get to your little brother.
Halfway through, you give up on the poor excuse for walking and collapse back to the ground again, now crawling towards his lifeless body. “JJ, wake up, please!”. The only sounds you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your sobbing screams and your heart breaking.
Your palm meets his face, already feeling so cold and lifeless, the exact opposite of JJ Maybank. “Please don’t do this to me. W-wake up, JJ!”. You continue stroking his cheek, patting it lightly a few times, hoping, begging, pleading for your brother to wake up.
Stroking his hair, you shake your head out of disbelief. Hushed whispers exit your lips, trying to reach the deepest parts of him.“I can’t do this without you JJ, don’t leave me.” It’s been you and him against the world, the shit hand you’ve been given wasn’t too bad when you had each other to fall back on.
Growing up you found solice in each other, you didn’t need anyone to help you or comfort you, you had your little brother and he had his older sister. When Luke was to drunk to help JJ get ready for school in the morning, it was you brushing his hair, picking out his outfit, making his lunch. With your mother long gone, you took pride in being that figure in his life and it was your greatest achievement, seeing the man he had turned into, no matter how rebellious and defiant, you loved him like your own, and now that he’s gone, what’s left for you?
“Who was it? Kiara, who did this to him?” you now turned your attention from JJ to Kie, her looking just as horrified as the rest of the group. A look of disgusted rage took over your face, your stomach bubbling with hatred.
She sniffled before speaking, “Chandler, h-he stabbed him, I- JJ saved me and gave him the crown, I don’t know- I can’t.” She began to sob, recalling the traumatic moment.
Motherfucker. If the betrayal wasn’t enough, knowing JJ was just trying to save his loved one and this is how he’s repaid?
You can’t see or think straight, one moment you’re mourning the loss of your best friend and the next you’re taking all the strength you have left and standing up with the gun on your hip, reloading the clip and heading towards the direction Kie said he went.
You don’t get very far before Sarah and John B rush to your side. “Y/N. Stay. We need you right now. Don’t do this.” You shake them off of you, sending your elbow into John B’s stomach in the process. “Get the fuck off of me.”
You whip around and point the gun at the group, they look at you in shock, not processing what’s going on. Your breathing is uneasy as you lick the forming sweat off your lips. “If any of you touch me one more time, I swear t-to God. I’m going to kill Groff and none of you are getting in my way.”
Looking around you see the faces of your best friends, sad, confused, and angry. The gun pointed at them has your stomach dropping. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.” The gun you have aimed at them is making you sick all over again.
Rafe takes a few hesitant steps forward when he sees you begin to rub your chest anxiously, knowing it’s your way of trying to work your way down from a panic attack.
“Sweetheart, put the gun down, ok?” None of his words are registering with you. He’s gone, he’s gone, JJ’s dead.
Rafe catches you just before you start to collapse again, this time into the comfort of his chest and arms. He takes the gun that’s hanging loosely from your hand and reaches it behind his back for John B to take.
“Rafe, he’s dead. He’s g-gone.” sobbing the dreadful words into his chest, his shirt catching your tears. You’re both on the ground now, him cradling you like a toddler as he rocks you back and forth in comfort.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, baby.” He strokes your hair and rubs your back, soaking in all of your pain. Your sobs begin to muffle as the others join in with you, still begging JJ to wake up, to open his eyes and to come back.
The weight of the air feels similar to your chest, no matter how much comfort and apologies Rafe whispers into your hair, it’s still not enough, your baby brothers gone and he’s never coming back.
The warmth of the fire fans your face. Emotionally and physically drained is where you and the Pogues have found yourself. Rafe keeps a steady eye on you as your head leans against his shoulder, knowing the last time you spoke was a few hours ago when he buried JJ, none of you being able to bring yourselves to do it.
Stray tears slip down your face, your expression remaining uninterested and dry. The only sound that can be heard is an occasional sniffing from the group and the cracks of the wood in the dying out fire infront of you.
You feel Rafe’s heartbeat against your back and his chest move when he talks. “I don’t know. If it was my friend I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him, yeah?” You take a steady breath in, getting ready to defend him when Pope tells him to “shut up”.
“You guys think that JJ would just sit here if it was one of us?” The whole group turns its attention to you, knowing you’ve been far too quiet for far too long, like JJ, you can be a ticking time bomb in moments like these.
John B is the first to speak up, “We all know what JJ would do. He’d get even.” You nod, still looking at the fire, kicking some sand as you stand up to begin pacing in rage.
Rafe watches your moves carefully, ready to defend you and back you up for whatever you’re about to say. He trusts you and he’s knows your best interest, you could tell him the sky was purple and he’d agree, while placing a loving kiss on your cheek.
You shake your head in agreement, feeling the never subsided rage bubble back up into your throat.
“Revenge.”
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waaayoutofline · 3 days ago
Text
Murder on the Dance Floor (part 2)
(from the When the Cat and the Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance series)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Marvel Masterlist
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natasha
Summary: Natasha isn’t having the best of luck in trying to bring one of the ex Hydras general down. You however may be able to assist her. Will you two be able to cooperate? Or is it your fate to always stand on opposite teams?
Warnings: A tiny bit suggestive.
WORD COUNT: 2724
The pulsing beat of the music could be heard from outside the dimly lit street, matching Natasha’s tense state. She was usually calm, collected when handling missions, but this was the exception—because this time, she was working with you. Just the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Honestly, if someone had told her a year ago that she’d agree to cooperate with you of all people, she would have laughed right to their face. But that didn’t matter now. She needed to get her hands on Horvat, and, unfortunately, you were her best—if only—shot at it.
Adjusting her earpiece, Natasha willed herself forward, slipping past security and flashing one of her fake IDs to the bouncer. After a quick nod, she was finally able to sweep her gaze over the crowd moving around the dance floor. In her earpiece, Yelena’s voice crackled. “See her yet?”
“No,” Natasha muttered, keeping her tone low as she moved toward a secluded spot by the bar. “She’s late. And honestly, I’m not even surprised.”
The blonde hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm. She seems…”
“Irresponsible? Selfish? A brat?” Natasha interrupted, her words sharp as she shrugged off her vest and left it on the stool beside her. “Those are just on top my head.”
“I was going for interesting. I have never seen anyone getting under your skin the way she does.” The redhead rolled her eyes, tapping her feet on the ground as she was searching between the participants.
”This is just unprofessional. I mean, who even isn’t on time for their own plan?” She sighs. “I should've known she’d pull something like this.”
Natasha remembers perfectly your encounter a few hours ago. 
The two of you ended up meeting in a neutral spot to, as you put it, “chat things up.” It was weird for the two of you to just… talk. You were as teasing as ever when you explained that the way for you both to gain access to the Hydra operative was to do something as ridiculous as joining a dance competition.
“You are joking.” Natasha repeated, baffled. But you made no move to correct yourself. 
“It is what it is, Agent Romanoff. Seems our friend is one of those eccentric types—loves all forms of art, but dance is his favourite. The competition is being held here by him.” You handed her a slip of paper with a hastily scribbled address and a list of pairs. “These are the couples registered.”
Natasha scanned it, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Wait—some of these couples, I know them. They’re actual professionals, Raven,” she noted, using your codename. Not like she was sure that the name you’d given her was even your real one.
“Oh, calm down agent. You’ve got me on your dream team now,” you answered with a wink that did nothing to reassure her. “And it’s not like we have other options. The winners get a super-duper exclusive VIP card that grants access to the elite party Horvat is hosting.”
Natasha’s reluctance must’ve been clear because you sighed in exasperation at the clear lack of enthusiasm. “Look, it’s the best I could do given your strict rules, alright?”
“I wouldn’t say that not murdering or maiming anyone counts as strict rules,” she replied, unimpressed. 
“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure? Aren’t you the fearless Black Widow?” you teased, your voice low, just loud enough for her to hear. You leaned in, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “And here thought you were this fearless superspy. But See, I have a different perspective. To these people, we’re just amateurs. That’s our advantage.”
“Is it?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp, but something about the way you were looking at her made her uneasy.
You grinned, stepping closer, your breath warm against her ear as you leaned in conspiratorially. “Absolutely. They won’t even see it coming when I take them down one by one…”
The intensity in your voice caught her off guard. There was something almost dangerous in your tone, that manic glint in your eyes that she couldn’t quite ignore. Natasha’s eyes narrowed as she put distance and shot you a warning glare.
You slightly raised your hands in mock surrender, but there was still something in your smile that made her pulse quicken. “Alright, alright, no need for that. I promise, no murder on the dance floor. Besides, I’m not here to show off.”
Her gaze never left you, knowing better than to believe that. You thrived on chaos, on the twisted thrill of it all. And she hated how it seemed to pull her in each time, how close you were making her feel to something she couldn’t quite control.
“This is the plan,” you continued, your voice soft but insistent. “We get through a few rounds, win that VIP pass, and make it into Horvat’s inner circle. Nice and easy.”
You closed the distance even more, your face just inches from hers. Without hesitation, you pulled a card from your pocket, letting it slip between your fingers with a practised ease. “Here’s the address. Dress to impress. Preferably black and burgundy?” you murmured, your hand brushing against her chest as you slipped it into the pocket of her vest, your fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “The color really suits your eyes.” You purred. 
Natasha could feel the heat of your touch, every movement too intimate for comfort, and yet, she couldn’t look away. You had a way of getting close—too close—and she watched every movement, every subtle shift of your body, all while her heart beat a little faster than she wanted to admit. It was like every single nerve on her body screaming in conflict whenever you acted this dangerously. 
She is only bought out of her stupor when she notices a shift in between the crowd. For an instant, she thinks that the contest already started, but that thought quickly goes away when she saw the true reason for the multitude to part like melted butter.
There you are, walking as if you owned the place with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Seemingly ignoring all the eyes landing on you like dominoes and yet preening under the attention like a lazy cat basking under the sun. Your smile was deceivingly innocent, gentle yet cocky in the subtlest of ways. 
Her eyes couldn’t help to take you in. 
The dark red dress you wore hugged your body perfectly, like a second skin, as if melting with each of your movements. The dress was seamless, held up only by thin straps that dipped into a daring neckline, exposing just enough to make anyone want more. The shimmering sequins embroidered along the curve of your hips glinted teasingly under the retro disco ball, casting a mesmerizing array of shimmering reds. The lacy fringe of the hem stopped just shy of your mid-thigh, blending with the flowery skirt that revealed both your legs in tantalizing glimpses.
As embarrassing as it was, she was just another victim that couldn’t seem to take her eyes away. Try to regain composure, she did her best to maintain a bit of her dignity, not wanting to give you any leash for you to tug on. 
Taking a steadying breath, Natasha forced herself to fold her arms, straighten her spine, and lift her chin, trying to cloak herself in her usual calm and untouchable persona. But her eyes had a mind of their own, betraying her as they lingered on you, watching every movement despite herself.
When you finally reached her, your gaze met hers, and Natasha had the unsettling feeling that you saw right through every barrier she’d put up. That awareness sent a chill of discomfort down her spine. Stepping closer, you set your purse down on the stool beside her with slow, deliberate movements that she couldn’t help but follow. Without breaking eye contact, you smirked.
“Enjoying the view, Agent Romanoff?” you purred, each word slipping from your lips as if laced with honey. But Natasha knew that the sweetness could be someone’s poison just as easily.
She scoffed. “Your arrogance is staggering.”
Feigning a pout, you tilted your head, feigning hurt. “Is it so wrong to give a lady a compliment once in a while?” Then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you leaned in, letting your gaze trace over her in a way that was unmistakably bold, yet foolishly innocent. “Well, I’m not scared to admit that you look gorgeous.”
You complimented while taking her in. 
Her hair was pinned up into a tight braid that left her neck exposed. The dark red shirt she wore clung to her perfectly, the satin fabric being comfortable and hinting at the lines of muscle and curves beneath. Sleeveless, it exposed her toned arms. The neckline went straight into a tight V, just enough for showing the delicate, pale skin of her sternum. Opting for practically, she paired it with paired with sleek, tailored trousers in a matching deep red—almost black in the low light (not that she had in mind your previous recommendation when choosing this of course). A polished belt cinched her waist, the silver buckle slightly off centred.  There was no doubt in your mind that she wore a strapped in blade attached to her ankle, ready and waiting. 
The thought did nothing but send a rush of excitement up your spine.
A blur at the corner of your vision catches your attention, and the teasing persona you reserve for Natasha vanishes abruptly. As much as you enjoyed being the cause of her losing her composure, you had a job to do—and you’d be damned if you failed.
Without giving Natasha a chance to react, you catch her shoulders and pull her against you, manoeuvring both of you closer to the bar. Natasha flinches slightly at the sudden movement, instinctively placing one arm around your waist and the other on the counter to steady herself. Her eyes widen as she meets your gaze up close, the rich scent of vanilla filling her senses.
Your cool hand resting on her bare shoulder makes her breath catch in her throat. “What do you think you’re doing?” she manages to say, intending it to sound like a reprimand, but the words come out soft and breathless, betraying her surprise.
“Just trying to avoid starting at a disadvantage,” you replied smoothly, as if the lack of distance between you two wasn’t affecting you in the slightest. Natasha hated that—hated how unbothered you seemed. If anything, you leaned in even closer, your lips hovering just shy of her ear. Natasha heard a muted complaint of disgust, followed by her sister saying something about “This is worse than Papa and Mama.Cutting off now.” She wasn’t really paying attention.
“Over my shoulder. One of the three judges,” you murmured, voice low and soft against her skin. “They’re not just ranking our dancing skills, but the… chemistry between partners. So if you want this to go smoothly, I’d suggest pretending you don’t hate my guts for a while.”
The last sentence dripped with a teasing mockery, and Natasha clenched her jaw, willing herself not to react. The word "hate" echoed in her mind, though, twisting uncomfortably as if not really settling in. Hate wasn’t exactly the word she’d use to describe her…complex feelings about you. Sure, you were frustrating, irritating, and always knew how to push her buttons with an infuriating ease. 
But did she really hate you?
She shook her head. This was exactly what she couldn’t stand about you—the way you made her doubt herself, fall into chaos in her own mind. She couldn’t afford to debate what she really thought about you now. Closing her eyes briefly, she exhaled, letting her professional persona handle her next movements. This was a mission like any other. And Natasha Romanoff always succeeded in her missions.
Just as she was about to locate the judge you’d told her about, her eyes fell on three men across the dance floor, next to the snack table. There was no mistaking the way their eyes draped all over you, watching you with no shame as their mouths likely ran with sick and degrading comments about what they would do with someone like you.
A tightening feeling in her chest struck her, taking root until the infection controlled her next actions. Strengthening her grip on your waist, Natasha pressed further into you, subtly spinning your bodies so that her taller frame shielded you from predatory eyes. Noticing the change in her demeanour and the way she glared at something behind you, you tilted your head slightly but decided to not comment on it. As much as you liked to keep her on her toes, you knew when to refrain yourself. 
“I assume you got the judge’s backgrounds?” she muttered, leaning in closer, taking a page from your book. Her hand slid over your waist, caressing your side while maintaining a firm, almost possessive grip. Lost at the moment, you opened your mouth to answer, but hesitated, caught off guard by the soft, deliberate touch. You couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved that she was listening to you or startled by how her fingers seemed to burn against your covered skin.
Natasha’s eyes glinted as they dropped onto you, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her features at the rare sight of you losing your so well maintained composure. You never stuttered, always remaining a step ahead, but for once, it was you who was caught off guard. If only for a fleeting moment, Natasha couldn’t help but take the moment in, greedily absorbing your hesitation. Is this what you felt when you got under her skin?
For anybody who glared at you two, it would seem like an intimate couple, flirting and rendering each other speechless with seductive flirtation and close touch. If that's what you demanded of her, then that’s what Natasha will deliver. 
Sensing this shift, you cleared your throat and did your best to regain control. To return to your sleek persona that you always maintained. “You assume well. The first one is Ethan Cole, a dance professor on a wealthy university. Had big dreams for Hollywood, but her addiction to gambling and alcohol closed those doors for him. Owes Horvat some numbers.”
Deliberately, you moved your hand to her jaw, redirecting her face to the right, then leaned in as if you were whispering something inappropriate in her ear. “The grey-haired man, Richard Harper. A self-declared “man of the arts,” you stated dramatically. “More like a man of perversion. He owns several sex clubs, most of which don’t follow safety regulations and serve as covers for prostitution rings.” Natasha clenched her jaw ever so slightly, the feeling of it under your fingertips making you sigh in satisfaction.
“Perhaps when we’re done with this I ought to pay him a visit,” you taunted, making Natasha turn to face you with a warning glare. Before she had time to respond, you silenced her with a gentle but firm motion.
“Right behind me, just a few stools away. The woman with glasses and uptight lips. Leah Montgomery. Our biggest threat to win the competition. She was in competitive figure skating, pretty good, too. Until tragedy struck and she ruptured her ACL. Clearly, she hasn’t got over it yet as she now spends her days tormenting her pupils, “encouraging” them in partaking into illegal substances to win her titles.” 
Just as you finished, the low bass music cut off, a call for all the participants to gather on the dance floor resonating through the walls. As everyone started to move toward the centre, Natasha eventually released her grip around you. Just as you were about to tease her about the reluctance, she placed her hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd.
Surprised, but not wanting to reveal your true feeling, you hummed pleasantly, masking the unexpected stir in your chest. Finally reaching your spot, Natasha extended her hand to you. Her eyes look down on you, the green of her irises going a few shades of green darker. But this time, you can't find the anger. No…it was something else that you haven’t quite seen before. 
Accepting her offering, you place your hand into hers. 
This will be interesting. 
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inkspiredwriting · 2 days ago
Text
just like his father
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
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It was a typical, chaotic afternoon in the Hargreeves household. Five Hargreeves was pacing around the living room, juggling phone calls and paperwork from the CIA. His wife, Y/n, was busy in the kitchen, preparing a snack for their two young children. Their daughter Maddie was playing with her dolls, creating an elaborate tea party setup on the floor.
“Maddie, keep your dolls away from the kitchen table, okay? We don’t want them to get hurt,” Y/n, called over her shoulder.
“Yes, Mommy!” Maddie replied, giggling as she moved her dolls to the safety of the living room rug.
Milo, their mischievous three-year-old son, was playing with a set of colorful building blocks nearby. He babbled happily to himself, stacking the blocks into a precarious tower.
“Alright, just one more call,” Five said, glancing at Y/n with a tired smile. “Then I’m all yours.”
Y/n nodded, returning his smile. “No rush. Just trying to keep the peace here.”
“Peace?” Five chuckled. “In this house? Good luck with that.”
Y/n was pouring juice into a small cup for Milo when she heard a strange popping sound from the living room. She turned just in time to see Milo disappear and reappear a few feet away.
“Uh, Five?” Y/n called, her eyes wide. “You might want to see this.”
Five ended his call abruptly and walked into the living room. “What’s up?” he asked, looking around.
“Watch Milo,” Y/n said, pointing to their son, who was now staring at the spot where he had been.
Five watched as Milo’s face scrunched up in concentration. There was another pop, and he vanished again, reappearing even further away.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Five muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He’s got it. He’s got my powers.”
Y/n’s eyes widened even further. “You mean... he can jump through space and time like you?”
“Looks like it,” Five said, crouching down next to Milo. “Hey, buddy, can you do that again for Daddy?”
Milo looked up at Five with a big grin. “Jump!” he said, clapping his hands. With a pop, he vanished and reappeared on the couch, still smiling broadly.
“That’s incredible,” Y/n whispered, walking over to join them. “But... also a little terrifying.”
“Tell me about it,” Five said, lifting Milo off the couch and setting him back on the floor. “We need to figure out how to teach him control. And fast.”
After a quick consultation, Five and Y/n decided to take Milo outside for some practice. They found a quiet spot in the backyard where they could work with him without too many distractions.
“Okay, Milo,” Five said, crouching down again. “Let’s see if you can jump to Mommy.”
Y/n stood a few feet away, holding out her arms. “Come on, sweetie! You can do it!”
Milo’s face lit up with excitement. He clapped his hands again and vanished, reappearing in Y/n’s arms. She caught him, laughing.
“That’s my boy!” Five said, grinning. “You’re a natural.”
Maddie, who had been watching from the porch, clapped her hands in delight. “Can I jump too, Daddy?”
“Maybe someday,” Five said, winking at her. “For now, let’s just focus on keeping Milo from teleporting into the neighbor’s yard.”
“Or the future,” Y/n added, giving Five a pointed look.
Dinner was a lively affair, as always. Milo’s newfound powers added an extra layer of excitement. Every few minutes, he would disappear from his high chair and reappear somewhere else in the kitchen.
“We’re going to have to set some ground rules,” Y/n said, catching Milo as he reappeared on the counter. “No teleporting during meals.”
“Good luck with that,” Five said, smirking as he helped Milo back into his high chair. “He’s got a mind of his own.”
“Wonder where he gets that from?” Y/n teased, raising an eyebrow at Five.
“No idea,” Five replied, grinning.
Bedtime was another challenge. Five and Y/n tucked Milo into his crib and turned on his nightlight, hoping for a peaceful night.
“Okay, buddy, it’s time for sleep,” Five said, brushing Milo’s hair back. “No jumping out of your crib, alright?”
“Jump!” Milo said, giggling.
“No, no jumping,” Y/n said firmly. “Just sleep.”
They both kissed Milo goodnight and quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
“Do you think he’ll stay put?” Y/n asked as they walked down the hall.
“Probably not,” Five admitted. “But we’ll deal with it. One step at a time.”
Five and Y/n were sitting in the living room, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet. Five had his arm around Y/n, and she was resting her head on his shoulder.
“I can’t believe Milo has your powers,” Y/n said softly. “It’s... a lot to take in.”
“Yeah,” Five said, nodding. “But we’ll manage. We always do.”
“Do you think he’ll have the same abilities as you? Jumping through time and space?” Y/n asked, looking up at him.
“It’s hard to say,” Five replied. “He’s still so young. But whatever happens, we’ll be there to help him.”
“We’re in this together,” Y/n said, squeezing his hand.
“Always,” Five said, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what.”
They sat in comfortable silence, grateful for each other and ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Together, they knew they could handle anything.
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gothamite-rambler · 2 days ago
Text
"Why does he keep aiming for that spot?!"
Batman lay face down on the ground, groaning in pain. His groin throbbed painfully from two brutal kicks delivered by Lex Luthor's nearly steel-toed boot, nestled within that ridiculous suit of his.
Superman stood nearby, sympathetic to his friend's plight but secretly grateful it wasn’t him on the receiving end.
Superman (comfortingly): So, uh, you doing okay, B?
Batman: He kicked me in the groin twice with that damn suit. You think I'm doing okay?
Superman: It can't be that bad, can it?
Batman growled in response, still writhing in discomfort. He was familiar with the idea of turning pain into strength, but this was an entirely different matter. Lex relished seeing the caped crusader in such distress.
Lex: Ah ha! Look at me, I've got the upper hand on Batman!
Superman (pointing at Batman): All you’re doing is kicking him in the crotch! That’s a low blow, literally!
Batman (deadpan): I hate you right now for saying that. And I hate Lex for putting me through this.
Lex: Well, that's what he gets for thwarting my plan to eliminate you! He’s lucky all I did was kick him where it hurts. With a limp dick like that, I can’t imagine he gets much action anyway.
Batman groaned and struggled to his feet. Fueled by frustration, he lunged at Lex, but the villain seized his fist and swiftly delivered a third kick to his groin. Batman whimpered and fell forward.
Batman (with a heavy sigh, fighting back tears): Oh God, that hurt even more than the first two!
Superman (glaring at Lex): Dude seriously, knock it off! That's the lowest type of fighting. I rephrased it for you, best buddy.
Batman (weakly, eyebrow twitching): Don't call me that while we're in the middle of a fight!
Lex: You’re losing this fight, Batman. You’re so stubborn—just stay down, you weak beta! Unlike me and my super suit!
Batman rose to his feet once more, refusing to give up, which made Superman groan in embarrassment as he shielded his eyes. Lex retaliated with a punch that sent Batman sprawling backward. Undeterred, Batman charged again, only to be knocked down once more. Superman quickly sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a collision with Batman as he crashed to the ground for the second time.
Superman (frustrated): Batman, can we team up to fight him already?!
Batman (on his knees, gasping): Just... give me a minute.
Lex (annoyed): Ugh, he is persistent.
Superman: You have no idea. He’s actually a really decent guy once you take the time to know him.
Lex: Doubtful.
Superman: He’s usually calmer than this, but you did insult some of his family. That’s a sensitive topic for him.
Lex (uninterested): Don’t care, Superpussy.
Superman rolled his eyes. Batman, clearly in agony, mustered the strength to spring to his feet one last time, but it quickly became apparent that Lex was enjoying this brutal exchange as he kicked him in the crotch for a fourth time. Batman was regretting not adding a codpiece to his suit.
Superman: Can we call for a time-out before he makes himself infertile?
Lex laughed and, with a triumphant nod, walked away. Superman approached Batman, who lay on the ground, desperately trying to suppress his screams.
Of course! Here’s the revised version with "dick" included:
Batman (pained confusion): He keeps kicking me in the dick—why? Why does he keep kicking me in the dick?!
Superman: He just doesn’t like you. Welcome to the Lex Club. But I think I have a good idea.
Batman (with fierce indignation): If you suggest you hit him really hard, I swear I’ll kick you in the dick with kryptonite shoes!
Superman: Well, we could... hit him really hard—
Batman growled in pain, doubled over.
Superman (nervous smile): Together?
Batman (with reluctant resignation): Whatever.
--- Three hours later ---
Wonder Woman laughed hysterically as Batman, now out of his suit, iced his groin while lying flat on the floor. Unfortunately, the ice didn’t take away the pain.
Batman (groggy): This is not funny!
Wonder Woman: I’m sorry—no, I’m not! I can’t believe he kept targeting your crotch. Why didn’t you stop charging at him after the second kick?
Batman (weakly): Because the Batman doesn’t go down easily!
Wonder Woman: Or because you’re the type of man to engage in a dick-measuring contest with a villain. And he wasn’t even one of yours!
Her laughter only intensified as Batman scowled, frustrated that she had a point. He certainly didn’t want Lex to get away with his jibes about Nightwing.
Wonder Woman: What happened to your pre-planning?
Superman: He was pretty enraged, to be honest. But at least we finally took him down together. I told you hitting him really hard would work!
Wonder Woman (still chuckling): I love that you risked your normal bathroom habits and the chance of having kids just because you didn’t want to let Superman help you.
Batman remained silent, choosing to lay there, engulfed in both pain and embarrassment.
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coffeemakerwriter · 2 days ago
Text
Word count: 2.1k
Mw3 spoilers
TW: death
That one part two of a one shot i was supposed to do ages ago
Part one
He heard what he said, he heard ‘I love you’ (something he thought he’d never say to him) on his way out. But he didn’t fully grasp what he said.
Johnny followed after him, having to walk at a faster pace than usual to keep up with Simon's long legs, staying hot on his heels as he followed him through the hallway of other bedrooms of their fellow service members, frustration starting to claw its way into his chest.
“LT. Slow down steamin’ bloody Jesus you walk too fast!” Johnny grumbled, reaching out to grab at Simon's black shirt, yanking on it to get him to stop walking for just a second.
Simon planted his feet firmly into the tile floor of the hallway, his body tense and unmoving as he stood there, his back facing Johnny, in the rush to get out of johnny's room and far away from his as possible, he’d forgotten his balaclava on the edge of the bed. His face and the scars that accompany it on full display.
At that moment, he was glad it was early in the morning.
“Johnny, let go.” Was the only thing he said, his hands starting to do that same opening and closing motion from earlier, his voice, along with his rigid body language was all it took for Johnny to realize that Simon was not about to go about this conversation in a way he’d like.
“Si’ ye’ can’t just say ye’ love me then storm out of my fuckin’ room not expecting me to want to know what ye’ mean.” He retorted, his voice prickly and defensive, his hand let go of the shirt like Simon asked but he stood his ground, his arms crossing firmly over his chest.
Simon inhaled sharply, turning to face Johnny, his eyes narrowed. “Forget I even said anything Johnny. It was a mistake.” Was the only thing Simon responded with.
Johnny’s brows shot up, a look of hurt crossing his face as he felt his chest constrict with an ache at his words.
“Forget about it? Si’ you just told me you loved me. That isn’t exactly something I can forget.”
Simon scoffed, his words pointed. “It’s something I shouldn’t have said. So forget about it.”
“The fuck do you mean? I’m not goin’ to forget about that. Can you atleast just tell me what you mean?” He asked, he was frustrated, he hated when he did this. He hated when Simon wouldn’t just tell him how he felt.
“Exactly as it sounded Johnny. What more do you want me to say?” He scrunched his nose, something he always did when he got upset.
“To fuckin’ tell me what you meant?” He scoffed, his voice rose and his accent thickend but it stayed even.
“I told you what I meant. I told you exactly what I meant. It’s pretty fucking obvious.” Simon was frustrated. He hated this conversation with every fiber of his being. He wanted to end it already. He hated arguing.
“What is wrong with you tonight Simon? I mean- I come into my room to find you crying your bloody eyes out. And now you said you love me and now when I try to get you to elaborate you get all pissy and storm out. There’s something more to this than just that kid you saw.” Johnny huffed, his brows furrowed.
“I don’t want us to end up like my parents Johnny. I don’t want whatever we have to get ruined.” Simon shifted, his face scrunched up. He always did that when he got upset. That’s one of the things Johnny always noticed.
Johnny paused, he didn’t know much about what Simon's life was like before he enlisted but he knew it wasn’t good.
“What do you mean?” Johnny pressed on. He wanted to know more. But he wasn’t sure if he should.
Simon let out a breath of air through his nose, dragging a hand down his face, he really really didn't want to have this conversation tonight.
“Fuck, you don’t get it. Do you?” Simon barked a laugh that made Johnny uncomfortable.
“I mean how could you? You had the perfect family. Loving sisters and the picture-fucking-perfect parents. You don’t get it.” His voice was rough, Johnny could hear how exasperated he was.
“You didn’t have to listen to yelling at 3 in the morning. You didn’t have to worry if your head was going to be put through a wall because you looked at your dad the wrong way. You didn’t have to worry about that. Because your parents actually wanted you.”
Johnny stopped. He didn’t expect that.
I mean-
How could he?
Simon wasn’t exactly the type to pour his heart out on a Saturday night.
“Si-” Johnny hesitated, he didn’t know how to proceed. Simon was angry, overwhelmed, frustrated, any emotion in the book of all emotions couldn't completely describe how he felt. That much was obvious.
“Simon” he tried again, he couldn't properly word what he wanted to say, he could feel his mouth go dry, he swallowed, before shifting his eyes away from Simon's face.
johnny‘s heart was pounding in his chest, almost like it was trying to run from this entire situation. He hated this.
He really fucking hated this.
“Let's go back to my room, yeah? Talk there?”
Simon’s jaw tensed, he shifted his weight between his feet, pushing his hands into his pants, he nodded slightly. Although a bit hesitantly.
“Fine.” Simon followed Johnny back to his room, his lips pressed into a firm line, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
Johnny opened the door, stepping to the side of it so Simon could walk inside before closing and locking it, watching as Simon sat back on his bed, following to sit beside him.
“Do you wanna talk about it now?”
Simon furrowed his brows, he was thinking, mulling over if he really wanted to before he sighed.
“I don’t know.”
“I’d like ye’ to. But ye’ don’t have to.”
Simon hummed, debating.
“When I was a kid, my dad, a old drunk he was, he’d drink too much beat on my ma’ and Tommy.”
Johnny didn’t speak, but he watched how Simon’s hands shook, and reached to grab them, running his thumb back and forth one of his scarred hands.
“Watched when he’d grab my brother, I’d tried to stop him, but I was just a kid, couldn’t do much, would hit his arms and claw to get my brother till he’d go after me, that way it wouldn’t be them that got hurt. It’d be me instead.”
Simon inhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders.
“I get nightmares about it, a lot, some nights more than others. But that kid- I couldn’t stop thinking about him- god he-” Simon paused, inhaled a shuttery breath , then released the breath in a uneven, anxiety stricken breath.
Johnny frowned, his thumb pressed into his knuckles as he listened.
“Simon- did you think I was that kid? ”
Simon nodded, shifting around, too wound up to sit still.
“My- my head, god it-” Simon’s voice shook, becoming more uneven, “it sounds so messed up but fuck- my brain kept replaying it on loop, except it didn’t look like that kid anymore, it looked like you, and I wasn’t in Urzikstan anymore, I was back at that train station.”
“Si-” Johnny hesitated, he wasn’t sure what to say anymore, what to do.
“I know, I know how it sounds. Fuck- I just thought- I thought if I came here I’d be able to make sure you where alive, that you made it out of that train station.”
Johnny nodded and tilted his head, looking at Simon in a soft understanding way. He gets it, he understands the logic in a way, Simon’s brain was playing tricks on him, and he came to his room as a way to make sure he was alive.
Simon shifted again, staring down at the carpet, looking anywhere but at Johnny as he inhaled then spoke again.
“I’m sorry. I think I got scared? I don’t- I don’t know Johnny.”
“It’s okay that you got scared, it was scary, what happend at the train station.”
Simon sucked in a breath, closing his eyes, “what would’ve happened if you didn’t make it out?”
“You would’ve kept living. It would be hard, but you’d keep going”
Simon nodded slightly, not as acceptance but more so registering his words. Understanding that he would’ve kept living, even if he didn’t want to, that he’d keep doing it for him.
“Si? Would you of kept going? If I had asked you to?”
Simon hesitated, shifting on the bed.
“Yes.” Johnny found that hard to believe, “if you asked me to.”
“I’d like you to, I’d like you to of kept living if I didn’t. I’d like you to keep living if I ever didn’t.”
He watched a frown pull at Simon’s lips, Johnny could tell he didn’t like that, didn’t like the idea of Johnny dying, if anything the idea seemed to freak him out.
Johnny spoke before he continued, squeezing his hand.
“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon Si.”
Johnny rubs his thumb aganist Simon’s knuckle, a reassuring touch that settles him just a bit. Simon was anxious and tense, Johnny could see as much.
“But what if you do? Tomarrow you could be gone.”
“I could be gone in ten years Simon, they’re just what ifs, uncertainties. It’s not 100% Si. ”
Johnny paused, he wasn’t sure how to help, how do you help the person you love when their so deep in their head?
Johnny turned to face him, angling his body towards Simon’s, he let go of his hand to reach for his face, his hand resting on his scarred cheek, rubbing his thumb across one of the scars.
He watched as Simon leaned into the touch, his eyes half lidded in a exhaustion sleep couldn’t ever cure, even if he tried.
“I didn’t die.”
“I’m tired Johnny. I’m tired of being scared I’ll wake up and you aren’t really here, that you didn’t wake up after the train station.”
Johnny frowned, running his thumb back and forth across his face, trying to find a way to maybe soothe his fear by his touch.
“I’m just tired.”
“I know Si, let’s- lets lay down yeah? Relax for a bit?”
He knew it wasn’t the tired sleep could fix, but he hoped being close could atleast help ease some of the burden and exhaustion he felt.
He nodded, and scooted back to the pillows perched at the head of the bed, resting his head on them, waiting for Johnny to lay with him.
When Johnny did lay next to him, Simon lifted his head just enough to rest it on his chest, right on his heart, he started fidgeting with his shirt, frowning.
Johnny hoped the sound of his heart could communicate just how much he loved him.
“I do love you. I’m just-,” he hesitated. “Scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared Si. I don’t blame you. It was scary, almost dying like that. Know it was scary for you to watch too” Johnny reached up, gently placing his hand in Simon’s hair, running his hand through it, an attempt to soothe the worry he felt.
“I’d like to try.”
“Try what Si?” Johnny furrowed his brows, he didn’t know what Simon fully meant.
“Being with you, us, together.”
“Would you be okay with something like that? Ready?”
“I don’t- I don’t fully know but-” Simon paused, his hand going still aganist johnnys shirt, “Can we? Please? Can we try?”
Johnny doesn’t think he’s ever heard Simon say please much less beg for anything, it felt foreign to hear it come from the man’s lips, if anything it made him hesitate on turning him down, his hand pausing in his hair.
“Are you sure?”
Simon nodded, his fingers pulling and twisting at his shirt once again.
“Words Si. I want to make sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Simon pushed his face into his shirt, settling into his side, despite being twice the size of the other male, it made him look so small compared to him, Johnny frowned at the thought, not used to the man being so vulnerable much less looking so small. Tonight was full of surprises it seems.
Simons voice was muffled, and Johnny had to strain to hear it, but ever so softly he heard it;
“I love you.”
Johnny hummed slightly, resting his chin on Simon’s head, his voice soft in response;
“I love you too.”
Right now, Johnny was content to hold Simon for as long as he needed, no matter how long that may be, he will always be there for him, and he knows he’d be there for him too if he ever needed it.
But knowing just how much Johnny almost dying affected him, tore at his heart.
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autocrats-in-love · 5 hours ago
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(Yeah, so, I lost the ask, but this is what it said:)
Heyyy! So I was wondering if you could do something with a prince and a body guard. Basically the prince has a body guard but they don’t want one/don’t think they need one. They both hate each other and they banter a lot and the Prince thinks his body guard is useless and what not but one night someone sneaks into the palace and into the princes room where they try to kill or kidnap him. The Prince wakes up with a knife to their neck or a hand pressed against their mouth so they can’t scream. Maybe they struggle which causes something to be knocked over, alerting the body guard or maybe he yells body guards name…? idk. But the body guard finds out something is wrong somehow and the body guard barges into the princes room and finds the kidnapper/murderer/whatever pinning the Prince down, straddling his hips and holding his hands above his head so he can’t escape, maybe he has a knife or some ropes but the body guard comes in and fights off the enemy and the Prince and body guard have a cute “you saved me” enemies to lovers kind of thing? Do you see my vision? I trust that you do bc your amazing but no rush on writing thisssss I love youuu <33
Doing Your Solemn Duty
"For the last time,” the queen said, exasperated. “You are not to go anywhere without your bodyguard!”
“Come on, mom,” the prince groaned. “I can take care of myself!”
“Last month, you snuck off the grounds, and almost got killed.” the queen replied.
“But I didn’t. Because I can hold my own against some muggers.”
“What about an assassin?” the queen said. “What about someone coming in the middle of the night, and trying to kill you when you’re asleep? Will you be able to handle it with your skills of sleeping martial arts?”
The prince didn’t have an answer for that. The queen looked past him and nodded at his bodyguard. His bodyguard stepped forward, kneeling for his monarch. The prince rolled his eyes. 
“It is my solemn duty to keep your son safe. I promise, your majesty, I will protect him until my dying breath.” the bodyguard said.
The queen smiled for the first time since the conversation had began. Then she turned her gaze back on the prince. Her gaze said both, isn’t he lovely?, and, don’t you dare try to shake him. The prince didn’t agree with either. He sighed and turned around, ready to storm out of the throne room. 
“Well, come on,” he said, when he noticed his bodyguard was still kneeling.
The bodyguard got to his feet and hurried after the prince, who had already slammed the big double doors shut behind him.
“Can’t you just leave me alone? Maybe go on break or something,” the prince said.
The pair were in the prince’s bedroom. The bodyguard glowered at the prince. “Absolutely not. Even if I didn’t have a direct order from the queen, I don’t bend to the wills of stuck-up royalty.”
“And yet you do whatever my mother says.”
“Your mother-” the bodyguard pointed to the prince’s painting of a toddler him and the queen in the corner of the room. “-has worked hard to keep this kingdom safe and prosperous. You sneak out of the palace to gamble at pubs and deflower anyone who crosses your path.”
“Yeah, and? That’s what everyone does.”
“You have a duty to your kingdom to accomplish greatness.”
The prince fell back on his bed. “Can you stop sounding like the queen? And, if you’re really going to keep guarding me--which is completely unnecessary, I don’t need a babysitter--at least leave my room.”
The bodyguard hesitated. “The queen said-”
“I need to change my clothes, don’t I?” the prince said. “And I don’t want you watching me while I sleep.” 
The bodyguard sighed, but gave in. “I will wait right outside your door until the morning comes. Don’t even think about trying to escape.”
“Mhm,” the prince replied. “Can you get out, now?”
The prince slammed the door shut behind his bodyguard. At least he wouldn’t have to see that stupid face until the morning.
The prince was lying in his bed, asleep. But something was wrong. He was shifting into consciousness. He felt a tremendous weight on his chest. Something cold was pressing against his neck. His eyes slowly opened, and focused in the darkness. There was someone above him. Someone sitting on him. Someone dressed in black. Someone with a shiny knife pressed to his neck. The prince’s eyes darted to their open bedroom window. Then he started struggling. He bucked his hips, trying to get the assassin off him. He shifted and shimmied, but the assassin didn’t budge. The prince couldn’t make out their features in the dark, but he could hear their grating voice in his ear.
“Hello there, little prince,” the assassin said. “Stay still, now.” 
The prince ignored him and groggily reached for the knife. The assassin grabbed his arm and pressed the knife slowly, cutting off the prince’s airway. The prince wheezed and he bit the hand that held his arm. The assassin swore in pain, distracted. The prince shoved them off him, onto the ground. He jumped out of bed. The assassin came for him, swinging the knife at him. The prince jumped out of the way just in time. He had adrenaline coursing through his veins, now, his grogginess melting away.
“Come on, I’ll make this quick,” the assassin said, taunting.
The prince jumped out of the way of another swipe, knocking over a table of his with a very expensive vase. The vase fell to the ground and shattered. The assassin skittered back to avoid the broken china. The prince stared down in disappointment.
“You could have fed a family for a month with that vase,” the prince said, voice scratchy with sleep.
The prince bedroom door burst open. On the other side was the prince’s bodyguard. Right. The prince had forgotten about him. Right about now, the bodyguard’s  height and defined muscles looked pretty promising. To help stop the assassin, of course. The bodyguard clocked the knife, glinting in the moonlight, and immediately charged for the assassin. The assassin was quick, and avoided the bodyguard’s punches a few times. Until they stepped on a broken fragment of the prince’s vase. They slipped up a bit, allowing the bodyguard to hit them with a left hook that sent them crashing to the ground. The assassin swept the bodyguard’s leg, bringing him down too. It was a mistake, because now the bodyguard was on top of the assassin. The assassin panicked and brought the knife clumsily to the bodyguard’s face. The bodyguard hissed as it grazed his cheek. This gave the assassin an opening.They pushed the bodyguard off of them and rose unsteadily to their feet. Their eyes landed back on the prince. But then they shifted back to the bodyguard. The bodyguard’s eyes were clearly on the assassin. The prince couldn’t see his bodyguard’s face, but he could imagine the deadly stare. The assassin instead chose to back up. The bodyguard scrambled to his feet to go after the assassin, but they slipped out the window before the bodyguard could catch them. 
The prince stared in disbelief at what had just happened. He felt like he could finally catch his breath. He rushed to his bedside table to light a candle. He picked it up by the handle and, avoiding the vase, made his way over the bodyguard. He was still at the window, probably staring at the assassin disappearing over the countryside. Some palace guards were probably chasing them. 
“Hey,” the prince said. 
The bodyguard turned to the prince. “Hey. Are you alright?”
The prince nodded. “I am. Thanks to you. You saved me.”
The bodyguard smiled. For some reason, it made the prince dizzy. “Don’t thank me. I was just doing my job. I’ll always be here, protecting you. Even if you are stuck up and annoying.”
The prince laughed. “Fair.”
Then he noticed the bodyguard’s face. “ Uh, you’re bleeding.”
The bodyguard absently touched the blood trickling down his cheek. “Oh.”
“Here, just- I got it.”
The prince reached up with his sleeve and gently wiped away the falling blood. When he looked back up, the bodyguard was staring at him.
“What?” the prince said.
“I think I misjudged you.” his bodyguard said.
The prince felt himself blush. What was wrong with him? “Yeah, maybe I misjudged you, too.”
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heymacareyna · 3 hours ago
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From my caitvi fantasy royalty au on ao3:
The royal family of Zaun were shown to their suites, and Caitlyn was left alone, left wondering how she was going to survive this week if that was what the Zaunite crown princess looked like. Gods, her combined beauty, confidence, and strength sent butterflies aflutter in Caitlyn’s belly.
No. Focus. She’s a guest, and you have to be regal about it.
Caitlyn simply needed to survive the next seven days, and then Princess Violet would depart, and everything would return to normal. In the meantime, Caitlyn would avoid her; that would be enough to keep her safe from her own—
“Going somewhere, princess?”
Caitlyn felt the husky voice deep in her core. By the gods, someone so noticeable should not be able to appear out of nowhere. It felt wrong. She straightened her spine, smoothed the front of her gown, and turned toward the other princess. “I have nowhere else to be,” Caitlyn said, which was technically true. Her parents had forbidden her from leaving the palace grounds while their guests from Zaun were here.
Princess Violet scanned her from toe to head, that storm-gray gaze too perceptive. “Doesn’t mean you weren’t looking for an escape route.”
“I have nothing to escape.” A lie. “I’m grateful for the peace.” That bit was true, actually, and she expected it to make for an easy agreement for them to bond over.
“Hmm,” said Violet, which was not an agreement. How odd.
So Caitlyn pushed, because of who she was as a person. “You’re not?”
Violet shrugged, a casual gesture. “People lie to get what they want. I don’t expect the ceasefire to last long. But sure, it’s nice.”
Hot offense rose in Caitlyn’s chest. You can’t say that. Not here. Not when we worked so hard for the violence to end. “It’s done. The war is over.”
“Until your parents decide Zaun has something else they want.”
The old books. Piltover overreaching. Her entire kingdom’s air of superiority. Violet was right, and Caitlyn hated it. “It’s over , and I won’t let it happen again,” she said fiercely. “No matter what it takes.”
At that, Violet looked Caitlyn over again, as if for the first time. “You really mean that, don’t you,” she said, brows lifting in surprise.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
Violet actually scrunched her nose in sympathy. “Court life must be tough for you, then.”
Caitlyn faltered. It was, actually. In a way she rarely acknowledged outside of her own head. “Is it difficult for you as well?”
Violet met her gaze, and there was turmoil in those twinned storms. The silence stretched between them for a long moment, but finally Violet admitted, “I prefer being elsewhere.”
Interest sparked like a flint. Caitlyn wanted to know more about the other princess. “What do you like to do, then?”
“I like the library.” Violet leaned against the stone wall. “Sometimes I’ll train with the knights. I have a cellar, too, where I can practice my magic alone.”
Magic!
Caitlyn glowed at the introduction of her special interest. “Do you craft the spells yourself?”
“That’s the way we do it,” Violet said. “You don’t, though, right? You only use preapproved spell scrolls?”
Caitlyn hesitated. If word got out about Caitlyn’s homebrew spellwork, all her plans could collapse. “Traditionally, yes. What types of spells do you like to make?”
Violet fisted a hand, jabbed at the air. “Offensive mostly. It’s what I’m best at.”
Caitlyn bounced on the balls of her feet. She desperately wanted to ask if Violet knew any spellmasters. Surely she had those kinds of connections. But the request would reveal too much, too soon. So instead she said, “Where do you store your spell scrolls? How many are there?”
“I have probably thirty that are worth mentioning. I just keep them in my chambers.”
Thirty handcrafted spells already? “How impressive!”
Violet waved this away. “A lot of people are much more accomplished. It’s just a hobby.”
It’s not just a hobby. Tell me more. Tell me everything.
But Caitlyn couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t safe to share.
Violet counted on her fingers, muttering to herself. “We’re here for a week, and then your court is coming to Zaun for a week, right?” 
“As I understand it.”
“Maybe when you visit, I can show you my practice space.”
The offer hung in the air. Caitlyn ached to grab for it, to hold on, to dig her nails in to prevent Violet from taking it back. She was feral with the need to watch Violet work. “That would be delightful,” she said, trying to sound normal about it.
Violet smiled for the first time since she’d arrived, and the light of it heated Caitlyn from the inside. It was more dangerous than any spell, that smile.
Heart in her throat, Caitlyn looked away. “I should be going,” she said, and it was an obvious retreat. “I have, erm, duties. In the meantime, is there anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, Princess Violet?”
Violet huffed out a low laugh. “Sure.”
“Lovely. What is it?”
The Zaunite heir winked at her. “You can call me Vi.”
Xena’s Share Day
todays a free day! have something you wanna share? here’s your chance, doesn’t matter what it is!! lemme see it!
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thatfaerieprincess · 1 year ago
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Do y’all want to see me hopping around dressed up as a green tree frog for our Halloween kids event at work???
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ashes-onthewind · 4 months ago
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I'm back from camp y'all~ that was the best week of my life but I'm exhausted as all hell :v I'll not really be on much for a couple days probably
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allylikethecat · 7 months ago
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the new chapter of all the king's horses oh my god 😭 screaming crying throwing up but in the best way known to man. that was SO good 🥹 poor matty though 😭
!!!!! Thank you so much for reading omg I'm so happy you enjoyed the new chapter!! I had a lot of fun working on it and was so very excited to *finally* explain what happened with Fictional!Matty and the mare and also the whole extent of his Tragic Backstory™️ It's also been really fun to stick with Fictional!George's POV this entire fic instead of switching around like I usually do - we only see Fictional!Matty from Fictional!George's POV and well, Fictional!George isn't the most reliable narrator. I did have a brief worry that this chapter was a bit *much* it kind of wrote itself and I'm just so happy to hear you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you had a wonderful Friday and that you have a great weekend!
❤️Ally
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blenselche · 16 hours ago
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my babyyyy i love it thank you omg
look at this big boy <3333 ily you did such a good job
this is for this scene in From Dec to Sept:
“Why’re you…” he tries, head lolling. Finn’s body shakes from the cackle that runs down the thief’s spine. “What’re you gonna do?”
“You got a nice penny on your head, hero. Didn’t know back then,” she tsks, clicking her tongue to her teeth, “if I’d’a known I wouldn’t’a let you slither away so easy.”
“Not gonna be easy this time neither,” Finn rasps.
He’s thrown to the ground, collapsing in on himself to protect his vitals, but she yanks his head back by a fist in his hair and traces the edge of a dagger over his unscarred cheek.
“You’re boneless chicken right now, kid, don’t get cocky. The posters all say ‘dead or alive’. I got no trubbs going either way.” The grey woman snaps her fangs at him threateningly, wiping her blade off on her dress. “Don’t got that annoying sword to distract me now. We can take our sweet time gettin’ to know each other.”
Finn swallows roughly and his eye catches on a wave in the grass behind them. “Yeah I do,” he ekes through a wobbly grin.
Bandit Princess forces his head back again, exposing his neck and nicking the soft meat under his chin on the edge of her weapon. “Whassat?” she hisses.
“Said yea,” he taunts with a weak laugh, “I do.” Finn gathers what strength he has left and sweeps her feet out from under her.
Thorny canes snap around her wrists to string her up in the trees in a flash before she hits the ground and Bandit Princess grits her teeth at the pain biting into her skin, kicking uselessly as Fern surfaces in front of her, slow and menacing, glaring at her with a hate filled, simmering stare. He doesn’t speak as he snaps a javelin from his wrist and gores her center on it, plunging the tip of it into her diaphragm shallowly.
“Wh-what’s your problem with me, you freak?!” she cries, gulping down a pained yell.
He doesn’t blink. “We have a score to settle.” The two toned voice brushes past her face in a hushed snarl. “Give me back myself,” he bites out next to her ear, knocking something loose in the back of her long forgotten memories of their first encounter. Fern turns and crouches at Finn’s side, cutting him loose and checking his blood pressure. His eyes flare white with rage at the sight of him, last of his humanity leaving its grasp as it rounds back on her to seethe through its fangs.
She’s comprehended her circumstances now, obvious by the startled, terrified look on her face. Fern can smell the fear rolling off of her in waves, sickly sweet epinephrine curling its grass and sharpening its claws.
“Remember what I swore to you?” It invades her personal space, growling low in the back of its throat. Her eyes dart back and forth, heart hammering against her ribcage. “Finn, do you have any moral objections with me keeping to my word?” It cants its gaze back to catch him shake his head with a hard, callous expression, watching intently. A slow smirk spreads over its fangs. “That’s new,” it notes.
“M’not a kid n’ymore,” Finn puffs out through numb lips.
Fern kicks the spear to the side, cutting through Bandit Princess’ waist in a long, jagged wound before it grows demonic and monstrous and snaps its maw in her pale face.
“Told you I’d find a way,” it jeers.
Fern sinks into the earth and snatches onto her ankles, tearing her hands through her bindings as she’s pulled under, and Finn watches her scramble to stay above ground. She screams and grabs fistfuls of grass and weeds, smearing long paths of blood from her wrists over the turf before her movements lock up from paralysis. Their eyes connect as she’s swallowed, disappearing into the dirt to suffocate, buried alive. Muffled noises of struggle echo upwards, the sound of bones breaking crackles softly into the breeze, and Finn tries hard to not feel satisfied but it’s a losing battle. He grows close to passing out by the time the air turns quiet, and he feels himself lift and become weightless, cradled gently to Fern’s chest.
“You need to see Minerva,” it says into his hair. “You’re so pale.”
“S’not done,” Finn whimpers. “Gross. Took a lotta blood.”
“I saw.” Fern turns toward the nearby human city and shrinks, narrowing out and gradually turning more human. “I’ll dismantle her later.” He spits bits of muscle and tendon to the ground, gagging on the taste of someone so bitter. “You did so good remembering how to connect to me, I can’t believe how close I cut it.”
“D’you eat her?” Finn asks absurdly, choking on a freaked out chuckle.
“She got her grossness in my teeth,” his other sniffs. “Perspective, Finn. She was going to slit your throat.”
He laughs airily, sight spinning and limbs weak as he sags further in the embrace. “I love you s’much you big monster,” he mutters against Fern’s peck.
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commission for @blenselche
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bravevolunteer · 1 year ago
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@muutos asked: we’re  still  your  friends  . classic freddy but fnaf 1 freddy iykwim // fnaf rp prompts
MICHAEL STILLS AS THE WORDS sound through the cramped office, static buzzing on the camera feed along with the flicker of the room's flimsy light, draining power threatening to shroud him in darkness in a matter of minutes if doesn't conserve it to the highest possible degree. For a moment, he thinks he made it up, the voice PULLED from the recesses of his mind, a creation of sleep-deprived paranoia ( though he is continually growing less convinced that the imposing, yet familiar phrase— IT'S ME— echoing through the camera's views is a hallucination, too... ). Yet, its presence is undeniable, in tandem with the creeping sense that something is lurking outside his door.
Posture stiffens against the uncomfortable chair, and with another glance to the cameras ( still ridden with interference ), Michael reaches to press the light, illuminating the hallway and the animatronic figure looming in it. Sharp inhale ( frantic breath that does nothing for Michael anymore ), digits jerk towards the button for the door, though he doesn't press it yet. Though the light only shines for a second, the moment seems to last much longer, long enough for Freddy's eyes to seem to bore into him. They shouldn't seem any different, but something about the way the light settles across his smiling face causes them to appear entirely less robotic, less vacant. And even when the light fades, Michael can still feel them lingering, reduced to a soft glow almost like two silver dots... staring directly at him. We're still your friends.
Who? The characters? The creations he grew up around, that he was fascinated by because he was a kid whose dad's work seemed less like work and more like magic? The ones he grew to make fun of, resent, fear? Or... whatever is trapped inside? Michael never thought they would take any kind of liking to him. After all, the guilt he carries on his shoulders is for all of it.
"... What are you?" He speaks against his better judgement, prepared to close the door with another glance to his power ( using his other hand to quickly check Pirate's Cove ). "Who are you?" A pause, another question strikes him, one that he's painfully learned is easy to confuse for them. "... Who do you think I am?"
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fumiliar · 2 months ago
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self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.
your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.
"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.
kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.
"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.
"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.
"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.
"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"
"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.
"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.
"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.
"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.
"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.
"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.
"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.
restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.
"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.
"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.
"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.
"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.
"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.
"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.
"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.
"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.
"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."
kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.
"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.
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queenjunothegreat · 5 months ago
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I told you all that Star Trek was my most self-indulgent fic concept, but that's not true. I can ALWAYS bust out my Kingdom Hearts AUs
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