#taking deep breaths. focusing on other things

[thedaselcor]

Here's my take on this one, I did it as my Chater 13!

Thorsday, the 2nd of Maius, 524.

Arthur woke to Merlin thrashing, convulsing through some sort of night terror. He held Merlin close, and tried to keep him from injuring himself through the spasms, but he was entirely uncertain whether that was even the right thing to do.

He noticed, as the minutes went on, that Merlin had been getting increasingly warmer. With growing terror he realized that Merlin was incredibly hot, burning up as if the dreams themselves were causing some sort of incredible magical fever. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he’d felt so powerless. It was a relief then, if a surprise, when Morgana knocked on their door and entered as soon as Arthur was able to stammer some sort of assent.

Morgana walked in, with a confidence and certainty of action Arthur couldn't remember ever seeing in her before. The room seemed to drop in temperature as she crossed in, and, in moments, she brought a hand to Merlin’s chest and one to his face. Arthur could feel the cold radiating off her. Merlin’s temperature crashed drastically as he woke with a start to the cold shock that rippled through from the point of Morgana's contact, and he breathed in sharp and deep like a man just saved from drowning.

“More like the pyre…” Morgana said, responding to the thought Arthur had never voiced.

Merlin panted as he assessed the situation, assessed the room around him, came back to reality, blue eyes betraying an equal measure of absolute understanding and complete bafflement.

Arthur shifted his gaze to Morgana, searching her face for the answers he didn’t know how to ask for. “How did you know?” he managed to ask finally, though the question was woefully inadequate.

“Sometimes we can hear each other, like when I was in the library, like when you helped us with the druid boy,” Morgana answered, but it wasn’t an answer to the question Arthur had been trying to ask.

“No, I mean…” he shook his head, trying to assemble a better question. Still, he only managed, “ how did you know ?”

“Oh!” Morgana exclaimed, as if understanding the misshapen question better this time. “It’s not as complicated as it seems, it was just illusion magic, I focused on making Merlin feel cold rather than changing anything, normally it wouldn’t affect other people, but you and Merlin are… very close , magically speaking. It’s… unusual.”

“ No,” Arthur let out a long, frustrated sigh as he forced himself to reshape the question, to add words. “How did you know about the dream, about the pyre?”

Morgana let out an uncomfortable laugh, as if that question was too obvious to need an answer.

Merlin, gaining more and more of his senses by the minute, ran his fingers gently along Arthur’s arm before answering, pragmatically, “all my dreams end in the pyre, Arthur. Beheadings are reserved for strangers.”

He was too kind to say the rest. Too kind to say, explicitly, your father would punish me for loving you, and he’d make sure that I burned alive if he ever knew the most beautiful part of me , but Arthur still heard it. 

It had been easier to ignore his father’s monstrosity when it wasn’t aimed at the people he wanted most in the world to protect, when it was abstract obligation to Uther versus abstract duty to the people of Camelot. Now, when someone he loved stood in the balance between, when they faced a worse fate because he loved them--the burgeoning flame of Arthur’s hate, so small before this Beltane trip to the country, was bellowed anew by the vile truth of Uther Pendragon, and it threatened to grow and grow until it could consume the world.

Arthur said nothing. He buried his face in Merlin’s shoulder, and dangled in the silence. Arthur had often felt lost in the world or words and feelings, in the world realisations like this one always seemed to thrust him in, and he’d long since learned to be silent and seem uncaring rather than ever risk seeming incompetent--in front of his father, in front of his kingdom, in front of anyone. 

Now, when what Arthur wanted most in the world was to connect, to be soft and vulnerable and honest, to do anything other than dangle in the silence, he had no idea how to find a ledge back out of the chasm. But Merlin just kept running his fingers along Arthur’s arm, and Mrogana didn’t give him the look she often gave him when she thought he was cold or uncaring. It was like they saw him there, dangling and lost, deep beneath the mask that had always rendered him invisible before. Being seen was new, hopeful but uncomfortable. Being seen protected the spriteling flame, promised to direct it to purpose where once it would have been extinguished along with everything hopeful in Arthur’s spirit. Being seen could change everything.

merlin magic reveal fic where arthur asks “why didn’t you tell me?” and merlin says, mirthless smile and haunted eyes “all my dreams end in fire. fire and burning and dying”

[dissapointu]

Could you write how Arcane character deal with reader who has angry issue please.

Jinx

Jinx isn’t fazed by your anger—it might even amuse her at times. She’s not afraid of your outbursts and often meets them with chaotic energy of her own. She might try to make you laugh or redirect your frustration by dragging you into some wild, destructive activity. If you’re seriously upset, she’ll throw out a haphazard “It’s okay to be mad! Blow something up with me, yeah?” She’s not great at calming you down but is always in your corner.

Vi

Vi gets it—she’s got a fiery temper herself. She’ll try to talk you down, stepping between you and whatever’s setting you off. Her approach is straightforward but compassionate: “Alright, take a deep breath, yeah? Let’s figure this out before someone gets decked.” If you’re lashing out at her, she’ll call you out on it but still give you space to cool off. Later, she’ll help you vent in healthier ways, like sparring or long walks through the Lanes.

Sevika

Sevika doesn’t take your anger personally. She’ll stand there, arms crossed, letting you get it out of your system. Her calm demeanor acts as a grounding force. “You done yet?” she’ll ask, raising an eyebrow. If your anger is justified, she’ll back you up without hesitation, even offering solutions in her blunt, no-nonsense way. If you’re out of line, she’ll tell you straight up: “Fix that attitude before you regret it.”

Silco

Silco has the patience of a saint—at least outwardly. He remains calm and composed while you vent, watching you with calculating eyes. He won’t interrupt until you’re finished, then he’ll address your anger with logic, offering solutions or asking pointed questions to make you reflect. If your anger gets in the way of something important, he’ll call it out firmly but not cruelly: “Control your emotions, or they’ll control you.”

Vander

Vander is incredibly patient with you. He knows anger can come from pain or frustration, so he focuses on understanding what’s behind your outburst. He doesn’t try to stop you from being angry, but he gently encourages you to talk it out instead of acting impulsively. “C’mon, let’s sit and talk this through,” he’ll say, offering you a drink to help you calm down. His steady presence is comforting and helps you feel safe to open up.

Ekko

Ekko respects your emotions and doesn’t judge you for getting angry. He’ll stand by you, letting you vent while keeping a watchful eye to ensure you don’t hurt yourself or others. “Hey, Firebug, what’s eating you?” he’ll ask, his tone light but concerned. If your anger spirals, he’ll gently redirect it, suggesting a project or activity to channel your energy. He’s supportive but will also call you out if your anger causes harm.

Jayce

Jayce tries to diffuse your anger with optimism and reassurance. He listens carefully, even if your outburst catches him off guard. “Okay, I hear you. Let’s figure this out together,” he’ll say, his tone earnest. If your anger is directed at him, he may get defensive at first but quickly realizes it’s better to stay calm. He’s a fixer by nature, so he’ll focus on helping you find a solution, though his enthusiasm can sometimes feel overbearing.

Viktor

Viktor approaches your anger with quiet understanding. He doesn’t interrupt your venting but observes carefully, trying to piece together what’s really bothering you. “Your anger is valid, but perhaps we can address it more constructively?” he’ll suggest in his calm, measured voice. He offers practical advice or distractions, like involving you in his work, to help you channel your emotions into something productive.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn remains composed and attentive, even when your anger is intense. She listens without interrupting and validates your feelings. “I understand why you’re upset,” she’ll say, her tone gentle but firm. She encourages you to take a step back and breathe, sometimes suggesting a walk or a quiet place to talk things through. If your anger becomes destructive, she’ll intervene with a steady hand, reminding you of your strength and resilience.

Mel Medarda

Mel handles your anger with grace and patience. She’s not rattled by your outbursts and instead approaches them with empathy and insight. “What has you so worked up, darling?” she’ll ask, her tone soothing. She helps you see the bigger picture, offering advice or solutions that align with your goals. Her refined demeanor acts as a grounding presence, reminding you to channel your energy into something meaningful.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa meets your anger with strength and authority. She doesn’t coddle you but respects your emotions, seeing them as a sign of passion and drive. “Good. Anger is a weapon—learn to wield it wisely,” she’ll say. If your anger gets out of hand, she’ll pull you back with a firm hand and sharp words. Despite her tough exterior, she admires your fire and encourages you to use it constructively.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie’s approach to your anger is a mix of humor and patience. She doesn’t take your outbursts too seriously and often tries to make you laugh or smile to break the tension. “Alright, let’s rage it out, then grab a drink after,” she’ll say with a grin. If things escalate, she’ll step in with a more serious tone, reminding you to focus on what really matters.

Lest

Lest approaches your anger with quiet empathy. She stays calm, letting you express yourself without judgment. “Take your time. I’m here,” she’ll say softly, her tail swishing as she gives you space to process. Her soothing presence and gentle encouragement help you find balance, reminding you that it’s okay to feel angry but not to let it consume you.

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist

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𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧)

✩ : the aftermath of the las vegas grand prix with max

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : max verstappen

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff, fluff, and more fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 775

✍︎ : SO SO SO EXCITED FOR MAX, I HAD TO POST SOMETHING (i don't know if i like it tho, let me know what you think!)

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You couldn't remember the exact moment when the tears prickling your eyes had started streaming down your face, but right then it didn't matter. Nothing really did.

The only thing you could focus on was the roaring of the engines right across the pit lane, matching the loud thumping of your heart.

One more lap.

Just one lap, and Max would've been crowned World Champion for the fourth time in a row.

You brought your hands up to your mouth, squeezing them together in a silent prayer as your eyes remained glued to the little screen in the Red Bull box. The crowd cheered as George Russell was declared winner of the Grand Prix, their screams seeming miles away from you as you still held your breath. The race wasn't over yet.

The next few minutes were a confused swirl of people shouting, hugs, and congratulating pats on the back—a river of blue suits that dragged you outside into the crisp night breeze. You ran alongside the rest of the crew, vision blurred with tears, until you reached the barrier and let out something between a sob and a laugh.

There he was.

Standing tall on top of the car with both arms thrown in the air, taking in the thousands of people yelling his name and chanting him with a deafening applause, Max had never looked so genuinely happy and excited about his own achievement.

Suddenly, his gaze caught yours through the visor of his helmet, and you could swear you'd seen his eyes light up. In less than one second, he jumped off the vehicle and ran up to where you were standing, his large hands immediately finding your waist as you secured yours around his neck, letting him effortlessly lift you off the ground and spin you in the air while just screaming with pure, raw joy.

Once he was done, he didn't let you go, wrapping your legs around his torso and placing his hands on the back of your thighs to keep you up. His chest rose with every heavy pant he let out. You closed your eyes, tears still spilling from them, before resting your forehead against the cold glass of the visor and taking a deep breath of relief: finally.

Pulling away, you gently helped him take the helmet off, one of his hands quickly leaving your side to rip the balaclava off his head. All you could see was a glimpse of his icy blue eyes before his fingers firmly cupped your jaw and drew you into him, your lips crashing together. The suddenness of the kiss made you drop the helmet to the ground.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer, your lips chasing each other in their own perfect race, breaths intertwined in a flawless melody.

Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the blinding flashes of the paparazzi's cameras surrounding you. You could hear the amused whistles coming from both fans and the other drivers, but you couldn’t care less. This moment was yours and yours only, and it felt so right: just you and Max, melting in each other's arms.

When you moved back, breathless from the intense kiss, you brought your still trembling hands up to his face and traced every inch of it with your fingertips, your touch feathery, almost as if to draw a map on his glistening skin: thick, pensive eyebrows, always so focused eyes, and full lips.

"You did it, Max," you managed to whisper, voice hoarse from staying silent for too long. "Four-times World Champion."

"Actually, this is the first World Championship I've really won." You could hear the laugh in his voice, his smug expression making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Because it's the first one my world came to see," he explained softly, his fingers running up to your forehead to brush a lock of hair out of your face before grazing your silky skin, his gaze lovingly locked onto yours.

You felt your eyes well up with hot tears once again, but as soon as one of them started rolling down your cheek, he was quick to catch it with his thumb and tenderly wipe it away.

"Nice reflexes, Verstappen," you muttered against his lips, a faint smirk plastered on your face.

"Not bad for a four-time World Champion, huh?" He grinned back before closing the gap between the two of you, drunk on the feeling of your mouths dancing together.

The world around him was long forgotten. For now, the only world he seemed to care about was the one wrapped tight into his arms.

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©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[nepenthendline]

till death do us part - Hawks (Keigo Takami) x reader

a/n: unconfirmed reader death, gore and blood mentions, hawks wants to marry you, angst angst angst, gn reader, let me know if you want a part 2 where reader survives!!

Hawks and you had been battling a nomu for what felt like hours now - it was a high end, and even you two, a duo of perfect sync and compatibility, were struggling to knock it down. There were other pro-heros in the area focused on rescue and evacuation, but only the two of you were in direct combat.

Things seemed to be taking a turn for the better, however. Even though most of Keigo's feathers were demolished, leaving him to fight with his swords, and you were covered in injuries and small broken bones, its regeneration was wearing thin.

'Almost there, let's go for the head!' Keigo yelled to you over the wailing of the nomu, in which you nodded in return. As if connected, you both moved forward at the same time; your partner was fighting in front of the nomu, working as a distraction, whilst you lept up from behind and plunged your knife into its head. The creature groaned and stumbled, blood pouring out of its brain as you sliced through the flesh. 'You got it,' you heard Keigo yell above the noise, giving you the power to plunge your knife further. The nomu fell to its knees, making you grip onto its shoulders to steady yourself as it collapsed. Now, at a lower level, you could see the relief in Keigo's eyes and the slowing rise and fall of his chest. He began walking closer to assist you as you plunged your knife again to deal a final blow, however, the next few moments flashed before him.

The nomu raised one stub of an arm over its head, growing some sort of sharp extension from it, and aimed towards you. Before you could react, the sharp appendage shot through your abdomen, throwing you a few feet back and released, dropping your limp frame on the ground.

Keigo's eyes were wide, and jaw dropped as he watched his love get pierced by the creature. As soon as he heard the tear of your body, he screamed your name - a gut-wretching, painful scream. He vaulted forward, moving out of pure adrenaline and fear, slicing the remaining head off of the nomu, and watched it crumble to the ground. He stood still for a moment as the world came to a silencing hault expect for the sound of his blood rushing through his body. He dropped his swords and bolted to you.

You lay lifeless on the ground, blood pooling from your stomach onto your hero costume and the earth below you, mixing with the dirt. He reached you in seconds and dropped to his knees by your side. One hand came to cradle your head, the over hovered over the gaping wound, shaking.

'Shit...SHIT,' his whole body trembled as he looked over you, eyes darting around and taking in the horror. They fell onto your face, covered in blood, dirt, and tear stains that had fallen from your half-lidded eyes. His head shot up, frantically looking for someone, or something, to help you. He spotted a person, a hero, not too far away who stood frozen, watching the two of you, with their hand cupping their mouth in terror. 'Get someone! They need help!' His voice was rough and unsteady from the lump in his throat - something so raw and agonising. The hero nodded vigorously, before running off.

Keigo looked back down to you - the blood continued to spill from you, and his hand was holding more weight from your neck than before. His other hand, the one that rested above your wound, flexed open and closed before he spoke. 'Dove? This is going to hurt, but stay with me, ok?' He pleaded, watching you force a slight nod as you looked up at him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the heel of his hand into your wound, putting pressure on the area to slow the bleeding. The hand under your head stroked at your scalp as you whimpered and winced from the pain. 'I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' he murmured like a mantra as he shifted himself so that your head rested in his lap. The, now free, hand came to move your damp hair away from your face and continued to brush through. You locked eyes for a few moments in silence.

'It's gonna be ok, dove, you're gonna be ok,' he forced out, his voice breaking as tears ran down his cheeks. He sniffled before bending down to place a kiss on your cold yet sweat-slick forehead. His chapped lips trembled against your skin, and you felt a teardrop or two roll onto your own cheeks. 'Gotta stay with me, ok? Getting you help, so just gotta stay awake for me, go it?' You weakly nodded again, to which he whispered sweet praises in your ear and gently rocked your head in his lap.

'I-I love you,' you muttered, barely audible. He let out a dry chucke, although it held nothing but grief.

'I love you too, so so much, so keep fighting for me, doing so well,' the corner of your mouth raised slightly at his words, as much as your body would allow, and his grip on you tightened. His torso hunched down closer to you, occasionally brushing his wet nose against yours, or peppering your face with kisses. Your tears were mixed together at this point, you had no idea what was coming from who.

'M'tired,' fell from your lips as your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. Keigo nodded in understanding, bringing his hand from your head to hastily wipe his tears on his torn jacket sleeve.

'I know, baby, gotta stay awake for me, though,' he repeated. His breath hitched when he didn't get a response from you this time, except from your eyelids closing for a few seconds, then opening ever-so-slightly. He needed to do something, think of something to keep you awake. His eyes flitted around as he thought before resting back on you.

'Hey, baby?' He shook your head gently to get your attention, letting out his held breath when your eyes moved to his. 'How about I tell you about something really exciting, yeah? Know you can never sleep when you get excited,' he chuckled as he cried, forcing a smile onto his lips. His tone was something like his usual teasing manner, although he cracks and dips in his voice broke his facade. He felt one of your hands shift, coming to lightly grip onto his trouser leg in response. You also let out a huff of a breath, something adjacent to laughter. He sniffled again and smiled down at you as his thumb stroked your cheek. 'Gonna propose to you soon,' he confessed, a pained grin painting his face. Even despite the agony and blood, he still looked at you with the same adoring eyes as ever.

'Yeah?' You whispered, a tear escaping your eye and rolling onto his hand. He nodded, chuckling again.

'Yeah. Got you the prettiest ring and everything,' he saw something of a sparkle in your drooping eyes, so he continued. 'Gonna plan the most romantic, most cheesy proposal you can imagine,' your smile grew wider as you listened, gripping tighter on his trousers, although you had to take a few deep breathes, as deep as you could, before you could speak again.

'Figured, it's not Keigo if it's not dramatic,' he gasped, feigning shock at your words before nuzzling his nose against your cheek. With his face so close, he could feel that your breathes were getting shallower, and your neck was barely supporting you. His head moved back, glancing over you again.

'Dove?' He probed, but the only response was your grip on him fading.

'Baby?' He tried again, his voice growing more desperate. He could see your eyelids fighting to move - you were still holding on, even if barely.

Whenever danger struck, or things happened that pushed you back, Keigo was always there to hold you together and inject you with positivity and light, even if that meant pushing away his own pain and suffering. He didn't ever want to be one that broke in front of you, but now, at your most broken, he was falling apart. He needed you, he couldn't lose you, not like this.

'Fuck it,' he let out a groan and looked up to the grey sky as if to push past his torment, which startled you with what energy you had left. 'You know what? Fuck the engagement, fuck the planning, let's just get married,' his voice was louder than before, stronger. His gaze returned to you once more, relieved to see the dim curl of your lips. 'As soon as all this is over, let's get married. Would'd'ya like that?' He beamed down at you, an expression almost manic.

'Yeah,' you breathed as your eyes closed.

[bloggerspam]

Val is angrily pumping a jack to lift a car up when Jay comes running into the garage.

"Val!" She ignores him, unfastening the wheel with rough, jerky movements.

"Val, listen to me—" Jay starts, laying a hand over her shoulder in a bid for her to turn to face him.

She slaps it off, tossing the punctured wheel away with a grunt and a bang. She takes a deep breath.

"You have some nerve," Val shuts her eyes, "to fuck this up so badly."

"He's not answering my texts." Jay paces back and forth behind her, even without seeing it's apparent in the way the air starts shifting abruptly, how his voice travels to her left and right. "I was in the middle of something, a, a family thing and couldn't really answer with a full explanation."

Val focuses on taking deep, calming breaths. She knows that it was a misunderstanding, she does. It was probably a Bat thing, he was probably knee deep in some kind of fight.

"I basically passed out after," Jay continues, pacing and pacing and pacing, "Didn't really fully understand what I sent, I-I—"

That doesn't mean she will play nice when Danny was hurt by it all night, enough to throw himself through the apartment boxes and set everything up, enough to work through the night on that stupid new bike he'll have to build in the Realms, the way it's turning out.

"I texted to, to explain, but he hasn't replied and—"

"Just," Val cuts in, silencing the man and stopping him in his tracks, "shut up."

"I don't know if it was a Red Hood thing," Val starts, voice low and putting up a hand to stave off what no doubt is some kind of exclamation about her knowing, "But if you weren't of sound mind or, I don't fucking know, were in the middle of a shootout—"

"Ninja assassins," Jay breathes out, "I was, uh, getting chased by ninja assassins.."

She pauses, shakes her head.

"If you were in the middle of getting chased by ninja assassins," She growls out, finally facing her wide-eyed boss, "then why didn't you just wait until after to text him back?"

'I…" Jay's face goes that splotchy red again, "I don't…really like to make Danny wait if I can help it."

There's a long silence.

The garage is actually empty, or she wouldn't have brought up Red Hood at all. The other mechanics went out on lunch, staggering their breaks. Melissa called sick, and there's only a couple cars anyway, light load for a summer day so Val's on her own for another hour.

"You're so fucking stupid, are you fucking kidding me?" Val throws up her hands, groaning as she goes to detach the second tire. The angry clanging echoes through the garage.

"Yeah," Jay slumps, flinching when she tosses the old tire with an irritated yell, "Yeah I deserve that."

"He was up all night, unpacking and working on schematics." Val spits out, hefting two new tires up in each arm to attach to the car and finish her up. "His phone was dead, and Sam and Tucker were forcing him to bed when I left an hour ago."

"Okay," Jay breathes out, slow, relieved. "Alright."

"We just got Anita's Mazda, banged up and in need of some TLC." Val tosses a nut at his head. "Work on that, let Danny sleep for a while before you storm our apartment with whatever sappy shit you think will make up for it."

Jay rubs his head, where the nut had hit him, huffing. But he takes off his jacket, heads towards the locker room to no doubt grab some coveralls, mumbling.

"What was that?" Val starts letting the jack down, ready to test the air in the tires.

"I said," Jay pouts, "That we will be talking about the Hood thing later."

Val rolls her eyes. "You are not fucking subtle."

"Red Huntress says what?" Jay snarks, disappearing through the door.

And you know what? That's fair.

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[lokideservesahug]

Old Habits Die Hard

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Pairing: Jenson Button x reader but focuses on Mark Webber x reader

Warnings: Bit of sexism (because that's reality of women in motorsports), pining, I get to revel in dramatic irony but I'm curious as to what conclusions you draw. Speculation about having children but only a dog is confirmed. One swear word, innuendos.

Notes: I wrote this yesterday + today so it's probably very bad. It still isn't the one I started with but I thought that if Jenson doesn't know events then neither should you just for now! But please let me know what you think of this! Also, this is my 1000th post I believe, so 🥳!

Summary: You and Mark are finally reunited when you're hired as a Channel 4 reporter, Toto Wolff begins to cook up a plan to get everyone's favourite Mercedes driver to return in 2025 and Jenson still doesn't know what these bloody page things are.

Series Masterlist

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~Late 2023~

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door in front of you. You shake your head, you're a multiple time Formula 1 world champion, knocking on the door to the Channel 4 CEO shouldn't faze you. You raise your first but at the slightest touch, the door swings open. You cautiously lean forward and stick your head in the door. "Hello?"

At your words, a young, blonde woman, sat behind a desk shoots up. "Hi, Y/N right?" You smile at the woman and nod. "Hi, I'm Rachel." You hold out a hand which she eagerly takes and shakes. "Lovely to meet you, I hope I'm not too early." She shakes her head. "No, you're perfectly on time. Mr Jefferson is ready to see you now I believe." You nod and thank the woman, and head forwards the door to the left of her desk.

The first thing you notice when you open the tall mahogany door is how bright the room is. The tall floor-ceiling windows allowing a lot of light to be cast on the desk and the three chairs sat around it. As you enter the room, the bald man at the far side of the desk meets your eyes and stands up, gesturing to one of the armchairs opposite him. "Hello, Mrs Button. Lovely to meet you." You sit down and shake the man's outstretched hand." Smiling at the pleasantries. He sits down and adjusts his crisp suit jacket, allowing you to take in more of the surroundings. One key thing that you hadn't noticed yet is the fact that someone is occupying the other armchair. Someone very familiar to you.

You look away, desperate to not meet Mark's eyes. You hadn't seen him in a few years and even though you'd been fine after... that night, the relationship hadn't been the same. What was once a relationship you held so highly, became an existence where you kept to minimal contact after he left the grid, that turned to occasional birthday wished to nothing at all. You focus on your breathing, desperate to not get lost in your thoughts about the Aussie. You don't need to think like that, you've moved on and you assume he has; besides, he was the one that let the contact between you drift away despite your best efforts.

You can all but feel his eyes pulling you to pieces and when he talks in an all to friendly tone, you whip your head towards him. "Hello Y/L/N. Lovely to see you again." And as you look Mark Webber in the eyes for what must be the first time in years, you almost forgot how well you could read him (and how good he looked). You curse yourself for picking up the hurt twinge in the end of his words, hoping that it doesn't plague your mind at a later date (you know it will).

Yet still, you smile at the Aussie to your side, after all this time still finding that his presence brings you some semblance of comfort. "Hey Webber. Gosh I haven't seen you in what? Three years?" He nods, voice still holding a view into his feelings "Something like that. But uh- time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? Uh, congratulations by the way... On the family." You roll your eyes and try and ignore his voice crack, clearly showing his emotion. "The media love to go wild with that one. No one's confirmed anything. I could have a million cats for all they know and they'd still claim what they currently are."

Mark smiles at the familiarity of speaking to you so freely once again and tries not to notice that you didn't directly adress the family. He decides not to ponder on it too much, the thought of you having such a domestic life with or without the "perfect family" with someone that want him, making him feel a familiar sickness to the stomach.

"What have you been up to then?" You glance at Stan once again, who is sorting through papers, and decide to oblige Mark in the small talk for a little bit longer. "Oh you know, same old really, a bit of racing and testing here and there, travelling, getting older, nothing too exciting." Mark laughs at your words. "I feel that..." Silence envelopes you once again and you're brought back to the memory of the two of you. A place that probably isn't too far from here, 11 years ago. You interrupt the pregnant pause. "Look, I really don't want things to be awkward between us. I know we were fine on the race track after...... that evening but this is different and I don't want things to be uncomfortable."

He nods. "Yeah I dont want things to be awkward. I mean we are both grown adults, I'm sure we can handle working together." You let out a sigh of relief and go to respond but the clearing of a throat draws your attention. You turn to Stan. "So Y/N, let's get straight to the point, there's no need to mess you around. I called you in here because I want to offer you a position to become one of Channel 4's presenters for the upcoming season." Your eyes widen for a moment before you furrow your brows taking his words in. "We need someone that knows the ins and outs of Formula 1. What makes it tick. Someone that can provide insightful commentary and accurate analysis. And we all think that you'd be perfect for the job."

Well talk about an ego boost...

You let his words sink in for a moment before you point to the man on your right, slightly confused. "What about Mark?" Stan lets out a hearty chuckle and grins. "Actually, if you agree, we plan on pairing you up with Mark. Our social media team say that you've been a historically good pairing and will fair well on camera. And having both a former driver and a former WAG's perspective will really make for thrilling entertainment." His words make you freeze.

It's as if you've been submerged by a giant bucket of ice water. Former- you don't don't want to think of what he said. You feel the old media training (or lack thereof) clawing inside you, begging to escape. It would be so easy to just put him in his place... To tell yet another ignorant, knowledgeless power exactly who you were. You breathe in slowly. No, that'll be no good and he's probably confused. Heck he's the CEO for for of Channel 4, who's to say he's even watched F1 before. You try and play his words off with small chuckle - that comes out a bit too dry for your liking -. "I uh, hope I'm not reduced to that these days. I won six times the amount if championships as my husband, if anything he's the WAG." You see Mark shift in the corner of your eye, covering his grin with his hand.

Stan just waves his hand. "Oh well you know, its just a label. It's a selling point, being a former WAG gives you a certain type of insight if anything." You furrow your brows, this time in rising frustration. Is he being intentionally dense? "But I'm a former driver not WAG." You realise how harsh your words come out and try and real your hostility back a bit. "But you are right about other aspects." Stan though, finally cottons on to your growing frustration and holds his hands out in surrender. "Alright no more of that WAG talk, whatever that means." You nearly laugh at the irony but he continues "We value you for your experience and accomplishments, not just your marital status. But that and the clear drive and passion you have for the spirt is why we want you on out team."

You hum, thinking over his words. Well it would be nice to be back in the paddock, however, Jenson would also be there, is that a good thing, who would look after your dog if you were both gone? You shake your head. "How often would I appear, do you know?" "We'd like you to appear on all of our live broadcasts. However, we understand that you do have other commitments so what we usually do is put people on a trial period of six months. You do it, tell us what you think and you can decide the further steps to take from there based on your feelings but also with audience feedback as well." You nod at his words, them seemingly making sense and seeming to be a fair offer.

Well, returning to the paddock doesn't sound all too bad. You'd pretty much ignored its existence since you left, desperate to not get to attached once again and long for the feeling of going 200 mph once more. Your eyes flicker over to Mark. "How often would he appear?" Stan glances at Mark who up until this point had been quietly observing the conversation. "We'd like Mark to appear with you on all if not the large majority of broadcasts. Your individual, personal touches?" He leans back and beings his hand to his mouth in a chefs kiss, making you and Mark chuckle. "You'd have an extra something our competitors don't and we need that."

You nod at his words, well you've always pleased the Mercedes media team in the past content wise so clearly you have something there. "What about Coulthard?" Stan nods, clearly used to being asked this many questions in matters like this. "David is a valuable presenter but after working with us for so long, he wants to take a step back and have a bit less involvement this year. He's not getting any younger."

He holds his hands up in defence "His words not mine." You nod "Well can I think over things? Jenson has his own job at Sky Sports so as appealing as the offer sounds, I'll have to talk to him about it." Stan nods and stands. "Of course, take your time and think about it over the next few days." He hands you a card. "Once you have your decision, we'll be on the other end of this line." You take the crisp card and run your finger over the edge as you say goodbye to the man and give a small nod to Mark.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

~March 2024~

The familiar smells and sounds invade your sense as you make your way to the Channel 4 group in the media tent. You show your media pass and the security guard who clearly recognises you. He nods "Welcome Miss Y/L/N." Your eyes widen slightly as you smile at the man. "Thank you and it's Mrs Button but you can just call me Y/N." The security guard looks down bashfully for a moment as he expression turns more friendly. "Off course and have a nice day Mrs Button." You wish him well and carry on into the media pen. You mutter a short "Miss Y/L/N? Haven't been called that in years." But find yourself bumping into someone's side. "Oh my gosh I'm terribly sorry." A familiar chuckle makes your cheeks warm as Mark just rolls his eyes and guides you to the briefing area. And for the first time in years, it feels like old times.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The camera man gives you a two minute warning as Mark turns to you. "I'm curious as to how you fare in front of the camera Y/L-Button." You giggle at his words "Oh shush you." Mark just shrugs "What? Old habits die hard, I called you Y/L/N for years, Button is going to take some getting used to." You grin at his words (and ignore the voice in the back of your mind asking if it would take time for Mark to adjust to calling you Webber instead). "You've known me long enough to not need to call me that Webber." He just leans on a nearby pillar and grins. "Well some things don't change whether you like it or not and deep down, you're still the same Y/L/N after all of this time."

You tilt your head and respond in a playful manner. "I hope so. You still as bad at racing as you once were?" Mark feigns being hurt as he clutches his left breast. "You wound me." A distant call for the start of filming cuts across your moment and you take a deep breath in. You turn and face the camera. "I'm ready." You assume that Mark takes his place beside you because when the camera starts a few moments later, you're both ready to go.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Now enough of us talking, let's cut to David Coulthard who's currently walking down the pitlane." You breathe a deep sigh of relief as the light of the camera stops. "You alright there, Button? You look tense" You nod. "Yeah, that was just a bit more stressful than I thought it would be... and I thought you weren't calling me that." "Ah you know I'm just teasing. You were great out there, you looked like a natural." You turn to him and are suddenly hit by the realisation of how close your faces are. "Oh, thank you!" Mark notices the closeness as well but doesn't pull away. Instead opting to lock eyes with you and extend the moment further. "Any time. And if you ever need any advice on how to charm the hearts of the viewers. Don't be afraid to ask the master." Mark's smirk makes you roll your eyes. "Oh yeah? And who might that be?"

And not that your proud of it, but old habits really must die hard, especially when you find yourself glancing down at Mark's lips. Mark leans a forward a fraction more as he responds. "Why me of course!" You just raise an eyebrow but the sudden realisation of where you are and how intimate the moment is crashes into you like a ton of bricks. The thought of people looking and the memory of... that evening making you turn towards the camera, ignoring Mark.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Now the last thing you expected to do on your first day at the team was interview your old boss but you can't say you're surprised. At least it's nice to see your old team principal. "Toto!" You call his name and he turns to you, eyes widening before he hugs you. "Oh hello you, I didn't know that you were doing this now." He gestures to the microphone in your hand. "Yeah, it's a new addition." He grins as you turn to speak to the camera man, his usual strictness being put to one side for a moment, replaced with a hint of warmth and fondness at seeing his favourite driver again (not that he'd ever admit that of course).

"Well it's lovely to see you and you look lovely as usual." You scrunch your nose at the towering team principal, used to his antics over the years. "Oh shush you, I'm not here to talk about joining Mercedes or anything interesting I'm afraid." Toto chuckles but unbeknownst to you, your throwaway comment has just sparked a genius idea inside of Toto's mind that he'd determined to put into action.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Jenson stands across the paddock, just finishing one segment of the sky sports coverage for this weekend. Gosh it's already a lot and it's only the first weekend of the season. He lets out a sigh and all too easily accepts the welcoming arms enveloping him from behind. Wait- he sharply turns only to be met with your familiar face. He lets out a small sigh of relief and wraps you in a hug of his own. "Hey sweetheart." You breath in the familiar scent of him and mumble into his shirt.

He pushes you away from his chest slightly, careful to still keep you close. "Say again sweetheart, I didn't get a word of that." You roll your eyes. And pick up his hand, playing with his fingers. "I said that I just interviewed Toto and its a weird feeling. Being back in this environment in a completely different way." Jenson just nods and squeezes your hand, understating exactly how the inner conflict feels. "But I'm sure you were incredible at it, as you always are." And as you clearly appear to be excited excited the matter, it just makes the Brit grin. You meet his eyes and sigh, winding your arms around his neck. You tilt your head "Who turned you into a sap today?" Jenson just chuckles yet remains cool. "Well I can't help but also feel happy when I see you feeling so overjoyed." You chuckle and look down, the proud look in his sparkling eyes making you feel a bit shy.

You connect your lips with Jenson's (and silently thank him for stopping in such a secluded place). However, unbeknownst to the both of you, it wasn't secluded enough to shield you both from the eyes of a certain jealous Aussie.

Jenson responds to the kiss by putting his arms around your waist and you feel yourself get lost in the moment. You moan Jenson's name as you become aware if the fact that you should probably be finding your way back to the Channel 4 group but you ca6n seem to pull yourself away.

And in the same way you feel unable to pull away from Jenson's embrace, Mark feels unable to tear his eyes away from the pair of you. Jealousy and hurt bubbling in his get like a hot storm.

You finally pull away and litter a few kisses around Jenson's face "Right, I have to go but I'll see you later and I love you." Jenson grins and pulls out towards him once again. "I love you too but why the rush? Can't stay and spend a few minutes with your favourite driver." You wriggle out of his hold and leave him with a sweet "Oh I didn't know Nico Rosberg was here. Guess I have to find him now!"

Jenson just chuckles and grabs your arm as you try and walk away. The both of you ignoring the influx of sky sports and other media personnel setting up not far from you. "Not so fast sweetheart. I thought I was your favourite driver. Should I worry about being demoted?" You let out a thoughtful hum, the sound making your lips buzz for a moment. "Well, it depends... There is this one old racing driver. He's long retired now. But gosh, he's he's incredibly dashing and handsome. He commentates now but he just gets me so flustered!"

Jenson's smirk parts as his lips breaks out into a toothy grin. "Oh really? He sounds like quite a bloke! Do I need to be jealous?" You raise your eyebrows and nod "Oh yes, I'd leave my husband for him any day!" Jenson looks down in a deflated act. "Oh darling, how could you break a man's heart?" You can't control it any longer and you feel a laugh bubble out of your chest. You try and speak in between laughs but aren't too successful. "Just- If you see him, let him know that I'd love to give him a massive kiss." Jenson, fakes wiping a tear which makes your laugher turn into breathless cackles. "Such a lucky blo-" Jenson can't manage to get much more out before you're smashing your faces together once again. Desperate to not hear his band attempt at a witty come back.

You pull away and look into his eyes, the blue of them catching the light in Such an angle that it makes them glisten. "Oh look." Your soft words make his expression become more lovestruck. "There he is." Jenson grins before you reel back. "Shit... I need to be broadcasting. Now!"

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and rush away. Jenson finds himself grinning and letting out a small laugh as he watches you trail away. Suddenly, a nearby Sky Sports person laughs loudly and at the sharp sound Jenson turns to look at the man. And he could have sworn he hears the worker mutter your name under just breath. His curiosity and desire to defend you get the best of him and he taps the man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, what did you say?" The worker turns, baseball cap on his head casting a shadow over his eyes that is fixed when he looks up to meet Jenson's eyes.

Jenson's tone is firm yet still polite as he continues. "I heard you mentioned someone's name. Who were you talking about?" Now Jenson will be one of the first people to admit that he was good at jumping the gun in his youth. But when someone mentions his wife's name? Well he won't allow anything but praises to be spoken about you and as it stands, the worker might as well be slandering you.

And the ground must be especially interesting because the capped man is finding everywhere to look apart from Jenson's eyes as he mutters a quiet "Mark." Jenson's eyes widen a fraction, not quite what he was expecting but he continues, trying to deem more friendly than confrontational as it stands. "That's a bit random. What about him?"

The worker now picks up on Jenson's interest and lack of ill intent and so continues. He grins slyly and the look makes Jenson feel a bit unwell "Oh I was just making a joke about how I thought your girl was talking about Mark earlier that's all. I thought she had a thing for him" Jenson's eyes widen, that's the last thing he expected the worker to say or for other workers behind the man to hum in agreement with. Jenson tries to keep his expression neutral but he crosses his arms, almost feeling a bit defenceless. "What makes you think she has a thing for him?"

The man opposite Jenson just shrugs nonchalantly. "Well she looked all excited and flirty with him earlier. They were really close and whispering." Jenson feels his heart sink for a moment. He trusts your loyalty of course he does. And he's certainly aware that you're an adult woman with your own autonomy.

Blimey, you were close with Mark first, if anything, Jenson should be happy that you're finally becoming friends again. He ignores a small nagging feeling in the back of his head, knowing full well it's only there because of other people's gossip and falsities. Jenson tries to get an answer pinpointing exactly when only to get another shrug and a generic answer claiming that it's been a regular occurrence over the past few days, in response.

Another man behind the main worker suddenly laughs. Jenson looks at the shorter, clearly younger worker and instead addresses him, head tilting once again in curiosity and confusion. "What?" The younger man just smiled "Nothing! Well I just- I grew up on you lot and for the longest time thought that Y/N and Mark were married so this is just a bit funny."

Jenson just shakes his head, the exchange seeming more and more bizarre as it continues unfolding. Gosh a few minutes ago he was just happily having a quiet moment with you and now he has to put all of these misconceptions about you to rest. Gosh this day is already tiring. "Well Y/N already talks highly of him and when you announced your engagement, like everyone else, I was shocked. I mean at least half of the Internet thought you had a polyamorous thing going on or at least a ménage-trois thing." The first man chimes in again "I mean I don't think Webber would be oppose enough having a piece of th-."

Jenson's glare could kill. Silencing all the other workers that choruses similar sentiments of rumours about Mark objecting at the wedding and other preposterous gossip. He's never known anyone to halt in their words so quickly but at his angry look, the worker realises his wrong and bows his head. Jenson tries to contain his anger at the objectification of you and instead focuses on his breathing (something you've encouraged him to also do in moments of high emotion). Jenson takes a deep inhale through his nose.

"Now if you're done talking about Y/N like that, I hope you can realise how preposterous those lies are. They're just things spouted by people with too much time on their hands and I don't appreciate you feeding into such bad words about my wife like that." As if following choreo, the sky workers nod. The main one holding up his hands, clearly quite ballsy as he adds. "Look I'm sorry man. But you have to admit you'd make a pretty attractive threesome." Jenson just raises an eyebrow and tries to ignore his warming cheeks, not even willing to entertain the thought... Not even for a moment... No, not in the slightest... Well if his brain thinks about it, its just because the worker mentioned it... He shakes his head.

Jenson speaks in a tone that'd be used to scold a child. "And no talk of that please. I'm more than happy with my girl." The man just nods again. Another worker, this time a much taller one puts a hand on the workers shoulder and addresses Jenson. "Sorry man. We'll leave all the stirring to Channel 4." At Jenson's furrowed brow he continues. "Not anything serious, they're just using Mark and Y/N's relationship as a selling point." Jenson just nods his head. Finally feeling more secure in the conversation now. "Yeah, well they love to make stuff up out of nothing."

The group lets out a collective laugh and if you were here, you'd you'd Jenson's look one of a lost puppy. "Oh you poor innocent man." One of the workers laughs "Sorry. You must have never heard of the 'Deleted Pages' that's all." Jenson shakes his head. "The delete- what are you talking about?" Hearing the sincerity of his words, the worker straightens up. "Oh, you really haven't? Uh nothing then..." The camera man calls for the workers to start filming in two minutes and the group begin to scatter. "Wait no, don't give me that. What are you talking about? What are those deleted pages, why are you all acting so weird?" Jenson doesn't have much time to get an answer though before a microphone is being thrust into his hand and he's being forced to film yet another segment.

Now you'd spoken to Jenson before about... that night. Not the ins and outs but now he's left curious. What happened and does it truly mean more than you let on but more importantly, does it have anything to do with these blimmin' "Deleted Pages."? Pages that everyone seems to know of but no one seems to know anything about. Jenson just huffs. Gosh this season really was going to be the end of him, especially if he doesn't find a way to satiate his curiosity.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, comments and especially feedback is always welcome! And I'd love to hear what you think!!!

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[aniesvision]

𝟑𝟏- 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒍

𐂃 𝚏𝚠𝚋!𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚡 𝚏!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄/𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒃𝒐𝒚!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚, 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕���𝒗𝒆, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒅 𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓! 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ♡︎ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍, 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

I took a deep breath, looking out the car window. The empty road at dawn, with all the shops closed and signs flashing red, the low sound of the radio, and the tires in contact with the street made me feel even more that I was making a mistake.

When Matt called me, after two weeks without speaking to me, to go to his house, claiming to be alone and missing me, my heart didn't allow me to deny the opportunity to see him again. But, it was evident that he only called me for a specific reason.

I parked in front of his house, got out of my car, and walked in slow steps to the front door, knocking and looking down, one of my feet pounding incessantly on the floor in anxiety. Being here is a mistake. I know that, and I keep going back. I'm just another one falling into his trap.

I hear the door being unlocked and soon his face appears in my field of vision, a smile on his lips, staring me up and down and taking a step to the side for me to get in, and so I did. We sit on the couch, not even greeting each other, and he soon breaks the silence.

-I missed you. -He says, almost in a whisper.

I wanted to roll my eyes and remind him of all the thousand reasons why that sentence didn't make any sense, but unfortunately, I was too weak and found myself feeling the warmth in my heart that I felt every time he called me.

-I missed you, too. -I answer, with a faint smile.

He gets closer to me, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear and turning my face toward his.

-What's wrong? -He asks, stroking my cheek.

Matt could make things even more difficult when he looked at me with those eyes, which seemed to care so much about me like he didn't just use me when he wanted and discarded me when he found other options.

-Nothing. -I shrug, shaking my head and trying my best to look convincing enough so he wouldn't insist.

He smiles, leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss on my lips. Those damn butterflies always show up at the worst times. Matt pulls away only to put our foreheads together and hold my face in his hands.

-I know you're not okay, what's going on in that beautiful little head of yours? -His smile seemed genuine and concerned.

How could he pretend so well? He used all my emotions against me and I let him hurt me every time, always coming back for a few hours of attention and affection.

-It's nothing. -I answer, trying to hold my tears and turning my face in another direction.

I knew his eyes were focused on me, curious. And I also knew that if I looked back at him I would end up talking more than I should and it could all end up here. Even though we don't exactly have a serious thing, it's still something, and I wanted to hold on to the minimum, no matter how painful and pathetic it sounds.

-You know I care about you, we can talk about it, about anything. I'm here for you.

His words sounded so soft, but they felt like daggers in my heart.

-Matt, we both know that's not true. - I whisper, turning my face, a lonely tear rolling down my cheek.

-Hey, hey, what's up? Talk to me. -He asks, wiping away my tears and pulling me closer, holding my face a little tighter so I could look into his eyes.

-Sorry, I can't do that, maybe you should call someone else.

I pull away from him, get up from the couch, and walk towards the door, more tears rolling down. I feel more of an idiot than ever. I don't know why I thought I should come here knowing what I was getting myself into. When I was about to open the door, he pulled me by the wrist, turning me towards him.

-I don't know what happened, but please talk to me.

-Matt, you're just in the mood to fuck and I was a quick option, you don't have to pretend that you care, take your phone, text another girl and let me go, I can't do this anymore.

I let myself spill the words, almost begging for a little empathy for my heart. He widens his eyes and pulls me closer, shaking his head in denial.

-What?! No! That's not just why I called you, I wanted your company. -He replies, making me even sadder.

I took a deep breath, but there was no chance for me to calm down, I already felt heartbroken, even if it didn't make sense.

-Matt, I know you, you're a free soul, and you like to be single and to have different experiences. I'm not the only one in your life, and I get it, but I can't keep doing this anymore.

I looked into his blue eyes, which were darkened by the dilation of his pupils. He was so absurdly handsome and knowing that I would be so easily discarded and replaced crashed my heart into pieces. I feel his hands pulling away from my wrist just to wrap around my body, hugging me tightly.

-I never wanted to hurt you, I'm sorry, I don't want to lose you, I can't lose you.

His words sounded desperate, a little shaky. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, accepting the hug, not knowing quite yet what to do.

-Please don't go away, I need you. -Matt whispers in my ear.

Shit.

-Matt, don't do that. -I whisper back, almost begging him not to make me stay just to hurt me more.

-I love you.

My eyes widen and I immediately pull away from the hug, looking into his eyes, his features are serious, showing fear and anxiety. I've never seen him like that. My look of confusion was enough for him to step forward and hold my face in his hands, his fingers lightly stroking my cheeks.

-I found out that I had strong feelings for you when I stopped feeling anything with anyone else, it scared me so much that I stopped talking to you for two weeks, and I know I was an asshole, but please don't go away, I need you with me, I love you.

A lonely tear drips down his face, making me think that maybe he was really telling the truth, he seemed desperate for an answer, for any movement or response, his anxiety growing in his chest. I was so surprised by his words that I couldn't even process anything, not giving him an answer. He hesitantly steps forward, eyes scanning my face before stopping by my lips.

-Please. -He repeats, in a whisper.

I break out of the trance I entered when I heard his words and realize that this was all more real than it seemed, so following my heart and ignoring my mind once again, I pull him in for a kiss, which he soon reciprocates.

We only pulled away for air and he looked at me with a small smile, which made me smile too.

-I'm sorry for being a complete asshole, I promise I'll be better for you. -He says, pressing kisses all over my face.

I laugh lightly at his action, shaking my head in denial and pulling him into another tight hug.

-You better be telling the truth, or I promise that I'll cut your dick off and you'll never have a chance with any other girl again. -I tease, pointing at his face with my finger.

-Fuck the others, they are nothing compared to you. -He answers, kissing me once again.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @larallott

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Based on this Mafia/Hitman Au from @novankenn/ Based on this Artwork from @pilot-boi

~~~~~

Menagerie. A rather upstanding Nightclub and Burlesque show, with a rather specific ideal for clientele and workers; that is to say, it's a preferred haunt for Faunus, with what few humans joining usually being just as downtrodden and unfortunate as they are respectful.

Its owner and Manager, Kali Belladonna, was an industrious and respectable woman. she did her best to be, at least; though in these times, in these places, the dirty hands of the criminal underworld still reached out and held tight.

Thanks to her fervor and staunchness she managed to hold Menagerie as a neutral zone. Anyone may come so long as they respect the dancers and they leave their problems at the door, and not drag the 'mud' in.

And in that way it was a perfect meeting place.

The Faunus sat at a table, joined by several others. Roman Torchwick representing Miss Malachite, Someone sent from the Schnee family who gave the name "John Doe," Athena Nikos, leader of her family, and standing at the head of the table was the one that called them all together.

Prismeya Arc.

Her prosthetic whirred with each step as she paced, before she turned to the table, placed the foot of said prosthetic on it, and pulled a silenced pistol out its calf.

She inspected it, sliding it over to Kali.

"Just out of respect; I forgot it when I entered."

Kali Said nothing, sharpening her gaze at the Matri-Arc, her ears flicking in annoyance. She knew Prismeya Didn't forget, but she didn't quite understand what this play was yet.

"Now, as I'm certain you all know, I'm out of this game, out of this world. I dotted my i's, crossed my t's, and payed every debt I owed of both Blood and Money."

She pressed leaned over the table, glowering at the members of it.

"So I wish to know why my dear, Sweet Jaune, my Precious Baby-Boy Has such a Large BOUNTY ON HIS HEAD."

Her teeth were grit, clearly restraining herself from shouting.

Everyone looked to one another, offering no information.

Prismeya glared at each of them individually.

"Prismeya, you know I wouldn't have anyone- I'm in too deep as it is! It's hard enough to stay neutral, I wouldn't go after anyone on my call!" Kali retorted, clearly concerned that she was being threatened.

Prismeya pushed off the table and stood tall, taking a deep breath. "Then pray tell-" she focused on Kali "Why Jaune mentioned making friends with a certain Black-haired cat faunus named Blake?"

Kali's eyes went wide as dinner plates. "SHE'S SAFE? BLake's okay?"

Prismeya was taken aback "You didn't know?"

"No."

"Then take this as a favor; she was last seen at a Department store in a mall in Vale proper, Retrieve her. That being said-" Prismeya ran her eyes across everyone, standing at her full height "Whoever set the Hit can call it off, and I will forgive them. No harm; No foul. But, should the Hit be fulfilled, Whoever Claims it, dies. Whoever set it Dies."

She let the words sink into the four at the.

Athena stared at her, eyes set right upon her.

Roman Put his cigar out, clearly considering her promise behind the otherwise aloof look in on his face.

Kali set her ears flat, grim knowledge sitting uncomfortably in her gut.

The Schnee's pawn had no notion of concern or care, unseen behind his sunglasses.

Athena turned slightly in her seat, her whole body now facing Prismeya.

"I assume one of mine has taken it upon themself?"

"You Daughter, Pyrrha."

Athena went rigid. One of the few things could sent chills down her spine was her daughter being in danger, and to be beholden to the Ire of Prismeya Arc was to be declared dead.

Roman slung his cane over his shoulders, rest his arms on it. "So we're here to deliver a warning, yeah? Good to know. Could've been an email though."

Prismeya walked over to the man. "An email is ephemeral; non existent. An email is not physical; It cannot hold water."

She tore the cane from him, emptying the round out, snapping it over her knee, her non-prosthetic knee.

He seemed truly taken aback by it first angered, but his rage was quickly supplanted by fear.

The Schnee Spokesman drew his own weapon, a silenced 22. pistol, and aimed it at Prismeya

Prismeya cupped Roman's chin, ignoring the burly man in the black suit, and tilted Roman's head up. "This is far more important to me than you could possibly imagine with what little grey matter exists under that mop of red hair~ I needed to have this meeting so people like you could understand that~"

And then she turned to the Schnee Representative, who hadn't lowered his weapon.

"I Suggest you put that down. It was rude enough for Mr. Torchwick to bring his weapon, but at least he had the decency to make it inconspicuous~"

The lilting of her voice was laced with a venom that could curdle the blood of any living being that understood what she was saying.

The Man, John Doe, Set his pistol shakily on the table.

Prismeya returned to her place at the head of it.

"So, I would like you all to spread the word; Should this Hit persist and come to fruition ... The Bloodmoon will rise, Drowning All in its Tide; Painting with Red, with The Blood of the Dead; For each life cut short, an Equal retort."

Prismeya smiled, the corners of her mouth wrinkled with age. In any other context it would have been warm, delightful, outright motherly. To all at the table it was deadly; The Rattle of a Snake, the fin of a circling shark, Click of a Hammer being pulled back.

Everyone there knew her Threat- nay, her promise.

Whether they comprehended the depth of it was a another matter entirely.

[call-sign-jinx]

Cpt. John Price X Reader - I don’t want to lose you.

summary - when you go on a mission you see someone from your past, when you go out of your way to save them it almost costs you and price your lives.

warnings - mentions of war, war flashbacks, PTSD, violence, meltdowns, unaliving, vivid imaging of violence, mentions of torture

Main Masterlist John Price Masterlist

a/n - i am british so when i say first floor it's the second floor for US readers xx

john price x fem!reader

I had been in Task Force 141 for around 3 months now. I had gotten closest with Gaz, Soap and Ghost. The only reason I had gotten close with Ghost is because he had heard me screaming from a bad dream about my time in Iraq.

We were sort of a tight knit group, that didn't really let others in on our "games". We tended to do things just the four of us. Plus Price, our captain. God he was an image. I've never ever liked facial hair on a man until I met him. And his eyes look absolutely ethereal. They're a sort of hazel or green colour and looking into them makes my heart melt.

Anyway, that's all besides the point. We're on our way to a serious and dangerous mission. Price briefed us earlier and we have to infiltrate an Iraqi base for information on a very dangerous and intelligent extremist group.

The fact that we had to go to Iraq brought back memories. Very bad memories. On the jet to Jordan - right next to Iraq - I felt my palms become sweaty and my breathing become jagged. I cannot be doing this on the way to the mission. Luckily, Ghost was right next to my and held my hand for reassurance. He was the only one who knew about my time in Iraq. Well everyone did, but Ghost really knew.

I begin to take deep breaths and close my eyes, after repeating this a few times I had finally calmed down. I looked around the jet and Price had his brows furrowed as his eyes darted between me and Ghost. I dismissed it and focused on my breathing.

------------------------------------------

We have finally arrived in Jordan and are now getting into RG-33 SOCOM Vehicles. Luckily, one was all we needed as we only had 6 of us for this mission - me, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Keller and Price.

As we got closer and closer to the base in Iraq, the pit in my stomach grew bigger and bigger. I pushed all my thoughts and memories down until I became calm. This isn't what the mission needed. Isn't what anyone on the Task Force needed.

We had finally arrived at a location close-by to the base and gathered behind our vehicle. Price had put a map of the base against the RG-33, the map had red dots to represent the entries, blue dots to represent the computer rooms (where we'd be getting the info from) and green dots to represent where we will make our exits.

"Ghost, Soap, you enter through the South West entry and go up through the South bound stairwell, get the information form Room F304 on the first floor then come out of the closest window you can. Gaz, Keller, you go through the North East entry and go up through the East bound stairwell go to Room S215, get as much information as you can from the computers and exit via the North bound stairwell. Y/L/N, you're with me. We'll go up through the North West entry, go up the West bound stairwell, grab what we need from T680 and exit via the North bound stairwell, the same as Gaz and Keller. Everyone got that?" Everyone nodded in agreement or said "Yes sir."

As everyone split into the pairs Price gave them, I went up to Price as we were in a pair. He looked up to me after checking he had all the PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) he needed and gave me a tight smile.

"You're going to be fine Y/L/N, you don't need to worry." I was confused as I had no idea how he knew. "And before you ask I saw you in the jet, I wanted to ask what was wrong but Ghost helped you before I could. Now let's go, we've got a mission to do."

Me and Price began our journey to the base and found our entry. We checked the area for any enemies patrolling the area and silently took out the ones who saw us before they could say anything. I got to the door and picked the lock and carefully opened the door. We looked around the corridor for anyone but didn't see anyone. We carefully made our way up the West bound stairwell and finally made it up to the room we needed to find.

Price tried the door and it was unlocked, he meticulously opened the door and the room was filled with computers, we scanned the area for anyone and there was no sign of people in the room. We went to one of the computers put a hard drive into the PC and downloaded every single piece of information off of that computer.

As the hard drive was downloading final bits and pieces of information, I heard screaming. Specifically, a boy screaming. I looked to Price and silently begged him for us to go get him.

"We can't Y/L/N, it may jeopardise the mission. I'm sorry..." He looked genuinely remorseful. But that didn't stop me. I immediately darted for the source of the screaming. Price decided he had no choice but to follow me, I could tell I was gonna get an arse whooping as soon as we get back from this mission.

The screaming got louder and louder until I finally reached the room where the screaming was coming from. I picked the lock of the door and kicked it open and pointed my gun in the room. There were two men in the room, one man had the boy's arm in his hand, his grip looked uncomfortable and way too tight for my liking. The other man was actually videoing, maybe for a ransom video.

"Put the boy down!" I shouted at them as I aimed for their heads. The men, who were obviously unarmed, put their hands in the air and stepped away from the boy. I ran over to the boy and got down to his level.

"Are you okay honey? Have they been hurting you?" I was checking the boy for any cuts and bruises until I noticed a birth mark on his neck, a very weirdly shaped birthmark that was very familiar. My mind immediately flashed back to Iraq.

When I was in Iraq, I was captured and tortured for information. When they were done with me they threw me in a cell along with a mother and her baby, Suleiman. He was a beautiful and surprisingly healthy baby boy. And he had a birthmark on his neck.

One day, after I was tortured and then thrown back into the cell, the mother was hysterically sobbing and screaming. When I calmed her down she said to me, "They took my baby boy! They snatched him right from my arms!"

I swore to that lady that I would break out of here and find her baby boy for her, a few days later she was killed and I never forgave myself for not fulfilling my promise.

I looked to Price with horror on my face. Tears began to brim my eyes and my jaw locked shut. I couldn't help the memories of the little boy, Suleiman, and the promise I made his mother.

"I know this child Price. We need to get him out of here now." I grabbed the little boy in my arms and we headed for our exit. But as soon as we got to the North bound stairwell, it was covered with Iraqi soldiers. I told Suleiman to go and find a man by the name of Ghost and gave him directions and that he'd be safe with him. Suleiman began to run as fast as possible.

Price and I pulled our guns out and began to shoot at them until the stairwell was clear. As we descended the stairs, we must've missed one as a man grabbed me and put a gun to my head. I yelped out Price's name and he immediately pointed his gun at the man.

"Let her go!" Price's voice was filled with rage, and so were his eyes. they had grown so dark you couldn't see the hazel-greenish colour of them anymore, just black.

"She has our information, she can either give it to me or suffer the consequences." He pressed the gun harder into the side of my temple.

I began to panic, memories came flooding back and I was beginning to lose sight of what we have to do. My only goal is to either kill this man or somehow get away. But he is a lot bigger than me. And when I say a lot I mean a lot.

"Put the gun down now!" His voice echoed in the empty hallway. The hallways, rooms and stairwells seemed quiet. Too quiet. My eyes widened as I realised.

"Price! Go! It's a trap!" As soon as I had said that the floors underneath us exploded with a loud boom. Fire began to spread, floors fell apart, and we were going to die if we didn't get out now.

I acted quickly by stomping on the man's foot, elbowing his face grabbing his gun and shooting him. I quickly grabbed Price's hand and led him to the South bound stairwell hoping that it wouldn't be destroyed. It was. We then tried to East bound stairwell and the West bound stairwell, they were both destroyed.

I looked out a close by window and there was a building that was still intact. We had to jump across. It was a risky jump but it was the only option we seemed to have left.

"Price, we're going to have to jump across to that building and get to the ground floor through that roof door." I showed him the building and he nodded.

"You go first." I told Price, he looked at me with worry and anger. He shook his head.

"Fine, but you better follow me close behind, can't lose a soldier like you." He patted my shoulder before taking a runup to the window and successfully. He stood, eagerly waiting for me to jump across as well.

As I began to run up to the window, someone hit my in the face with a gun. Price saw and didn't know what to do, he couldn't get back up to the building but he couldn't just leave me either.

"Y/L/N!" He ran to the building's edge and tried to get a better look. A woman walked up to the window and laughed at Price.

"She's going to die where her true life started, in Iraq. And the information you stole will die here with her!" Price got ahold of his gun and pointed it at the woman.

"Give her to me or I'll shoot!" All the woman did was laugh.

"You better go now or you'll die along with us!" Price reigned fire on her but missed as she ducked down until the window. When he ran out of bullets she stood back up straight, but holding a dead man's switch in her hand.

Before she could even speak, Price saw a hand drag her down and he slightly hears grappling and groaning until all he can hear is the roaring fires down below and the infrastructure of the building falling apart.

The next thing he sees is a bag being thrown and me flying through the window and the rest of the building being destroyed by an explosion.

Price grabbed the bag and ushered me to the roof door as we had finally escaped. We made our way to the stairwell and as soon as we exited the building it exploded. We made our way back to the RG-33, where the others were worriedly waiting for us.

Ghost and Soap immediately ran up to us and checked me for anything on my face. I looked past them and saw the boy with a blanket around him. I quickly made my way to him.

"Are you okay Suleiman?" The boy was silent, of course he would be. He also looked scared after I called him by his name.

"Suleiman, I knew your mother, Amneh, a long time ago when you were just a baby. You're safe with us now, I promise." He nodded and we all got into the vehicle, Suleiman sat down with me and I wrapped my arm around him. When we got back into Jordan, a man was waiting with a few of our men. He quickly ran up to Suleiman and held him in his arms. The boy backed away from him immediately.

We reunited Suleiman with his older brother and father and then boarded the jet back home. I immediately lay down on the seats and anticipated how much Price was going to rinse me for saving Suleiman.

-------------------------------------

We were now back on our base in England. Soap, Gaz and Keller were celebrating another successful mission while me and Ghost sat on one of the couches in the "common room" as they all call it.

"You did good saving that little boy today. Even though Price is going to absolutely murder you for almost dying and 'jeopardising' the mission." I chuckled before I took a sip of my drink.

"I was with that little boy and his mother back when I was captured in Iraq y'know?" My mood completely changed as memories came back. "They took her little boy away from her, he was only a baby at the time, and I told her that I would get us both out of there and get her boy back. They killed her a week later. And I never fulfilled the promise I made her... It kills me every day to know they will never see each other again..." Ghost put his arm around my shoulder and rubbed my arm as a way of comforting me.

Price then entered the room and his eyes immediately darted to me. He did not look happy at all.

"Y/L/N. My office. Now." He didn't raise his voice. You knew you were in shit with Price when he didn't even raise his voice.

I got up from the couch and followed Price to his office. When we got inside he ordered me to sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

"Do you know how stupid that was? Apart from saving that boy's life you could've risked mine and yours! That was absolutely irresponsible!" I didn't even mutter a word, I just wanted to let him let out his anger before I spoke.

"You have nearly died 3 times today! Three times! Do you know how upset the team would be? I would be? If you had lost your life? What went through your fucking head?! All for that little boy!" Now I was angry, how the fuck could he be so insensitive?

"I made a promise to a mother in Iraq... That I would bring her baby boy back to her after he was taken away from her... And that boy that I saved today, was that baby boy." Price's eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed, he had no clue what to say.

"Y/N... I'm sorry I-" I cut him off before he could speak, anger running through my veins now.

"You should be sorry! I made a promise to a woman in Iraq and if I couldn't keep it for her I'd keep it for their family that searched far and wide for the both of them. That boy's father and brother had to find out that woman had fucking died today! So yeah! You should be fucking sorry."

I was nose to nose with Price now. There was a deafening silence and a heavy atmosphere around us now. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"I didn't know... what you went through in Iraq... I'm sorry." He seriously meant the apology this time. I could tell, the look of remorse on his face made me upset.

"It's just... I don't know what all of us... what I would do if you had died. I don't want to lose you." He looked down to the floor, not wanting to look me in the eye.

"Are you saying you care about me Captain?" I raise an eyebrow and smirk at him. His eyes immediately dart to mine and his mouth contorts to form a straight thin line.

"Yes, I do Y/N. What of it?" He straightened his posture, towering over me. It made me quite flustered.

"Just wondering Captain." I look down to the ground in hopes he doesn't see my face going slightly red. This was not how I planned this to go in my head.

"You wondering cause you feel the same sweetheart? I've heard what you say about me to Soap. It's no secret to me anymore." He took a step towards me, our chests now touching. The lack of distance made blood run to my cheeks.

"That was a private conversation Captain." Price chuckled, he raised his hand to put under my chin so that I would look up at him.

"You aren't denying it though are you?" His smirk only grew as my face grew redder and redder. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Why the fuck am I being like this? I shouldn't be, I am a fucking soldier not some little school girl with a crush.

"No..." I gather up the courage to look at him and he has this certain look in his eyes. Something like want, or desire.

"Good." And before I could say anything he cupped my cheeks in his hands and connected our lips. It was exactly like how I imagined it. It was warm, passionate yet soft and fucking amazing.

He backed me up against the closest wall and presses his body against mine. The kiss grew deeper when he put his knee between my legs and I gasped so he took the chance to swipe his tongue against my lips and into my mouth.

It grew sloppier and sloppier as we both got more desperate. One of his hands travelled down to my waist and squeezed it which made me yelp into his mouth.

We both finally pulled away for air and he looked at me with care and want mixed into one.

"I have wanted to do that every since I laid my eyes on you sweetheart."

[camillomea]

Child of crime alley 4- telepathy

Here is the new chapter, I hope you like it. Enjoy reading. Write your thoughts in the comments. I am always open to suggestions and criticisms.

Tim looked at Bruce. Bruce was examining him and asked, "Are you cold?" Tim said, "I'm fine." With a flat expression, Tim said, "I understand." Bruce said quietly. Tim thought, "What does he want?" They were all really weird lately, he was tired of dealing with it. He took his computer out of his bag, it was probably expired, but he didn't want to spend unnecessary money, he definitely didn't have enough money for that, he started to turn on his computer, he leaned back while waiting for it to turn on silently. Bruce was watching him. "Have you eaten?" he asked. Tim said, "Yes, I ate before I came." Bruce nodded.

Jason came with two mugs in my hands. "Here's some tea. It'll help you warm up." Tim said, "Thanks Hood," he said, taking the mug. Jason's eye twitched, but he didn't comment on the Hood. He stuck his head out from Tim's side and looked at what he was doing. He frowned at his computer. When Tim got too close to him, he looked at him as if he was asking. Jason asked, "Can you look at something for me later?" Tim asked, "What is it?" Jason said, “It’s about a case.” Tim said, “Okay. I’ll take a look before I get to work.” Jason said, “Thank you, Little Bird.” Tim nodded silently and drank his tea. Jason had pulled up a chair for himself and sat down. He glared at Bruce before he started to mind his own business. Bruce said, “What happened?” telepathically. Jason said, “Bird and I had a long talk today.” Bruce said, “About what?” telepathically. Jason said, “I wonder what it’s about.” YOU THINK. Bruce flinched and looked away. Jason said, “We need to talk. But we’ll do it after Bird gets back to where he lives.” telepathically. Bruce nodded silently. Jason said, “The rose in my palm turned color after I made contact with him.” telepathically. Bruce’s eyes widened. “No, no, that can’t be impossible. If it was, I would know. We would know. It’s impossible,” he said telepathically. Jason said, “That’s what happened. And you’re too stupid a jerk to realize it,” he said telepathically, angrily. Bruce flinched. Tim looked at them staring at each other. “Umm, is something wrong?” he asked nervously. Jason said, “Oh no, Bird. It’s nothing. He was just asking me something.” Tim blinked. “What do you mean?” he asked. Jason froze. “Little Bird, you know about soulmates, right?” he asked. Tim said, “Well, I heard,” he said, tilting his head. Jason said, “The archetype is usually your parent’s bond. Don’t you have any of those?” Tim shrugged. “I’d be surprised if I did. They’re not my family, after all. There’s a reason I don’t have the Drake surname,” he said blankly. Jason’s eye twitched. “And what’s that?” he asked. Tim turned back to his computer and focused on his computer. “They left me when I was 11 and fled the country. They even took their last name off my ID. I guess my only regret was not being able to go back into that house one last time and get my things,” he muttered. Jason’s eyes flashed green with anger. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Bruce said, “Timmy, are you telling us that your parents abandoned you and left you on the street with nothing?” Tim shrugged, “Yeah. Apparently they got into some kind of trouble and ran away. Not that they were home before, they had been traveling abroad for archaeological digs since I was 4. I didn’t even have a babysitter after I was 6. Apparently I had grown up enough. Anyway, when I was 11 and left on my own, it worked out for me. I was experienced enough to take care of myself,” he said. He flinched when he heard a thud. Jason had broken the glass in his hand in anger. When he saw Tim’s reaction, he asked, “Sorry Little Bird, my hand slipped. It didn’t come to you, did it?” Tim shook his head. “Are you okay, Hood?” Jason said, “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I didn’t get burned,” Tim said, nodding. Jason cleaned himself up, then said, “Back to the topic. Soulmates have a telepathic connection, so I can curse Bruce’s stupidity without putting money in the swear jar.” Tim laughed lightly. Then he asked, “Oh, so you were talking that way?” Jason said, “Yeah.” Tim mumbled, “Oh, I see.” Jason smiled, but telepathically shouted—HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE? Bruce looked away. Tim was intrigued by what he was saying, but didn’t comment. He didn’t have a soul mate, after all, and probably never would. So he focused on the task at hand.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

‘Death Becomes Them’ chapter 1 is up!

Read on ao3 or below

**********

Rated: E (not this chapter)

Words: 3,111

TW: death, homophobic language.

Summary:

A month after Tommy devastates Buck by breaking up with him, Tommy’s dad dies and he find himself at Bucks door searching for comfort.

Although Buck is still reeling (and baking) from the break up, he can’t find it in him to leave Tommy to deal with his grief alone and agrees to accompany Tommy back to his childhood home while he deals with the arrangements.

Spending a few days together, with Tommy finally opening up about his past, makes them both reevaluate things and share some truths.

**********

Buck stood staring at the inside of his full to the brim fridge wondering where hell he was going to put the latest offering, a six-layer chocolate cake.

It’s was fine. He’d take out the banana loaf and walnut cake and take them to the B-shift on his day off tomorrow. He was in the middle of trying to squeeze it into the fridge when a loud knock on the door came out of nowhere and he almost dropped it.

“God damnit!” He swore before putting it back down on the counter and walking to the door.

He opened it and every breath seemed to leave his body.

“T-Tommy.”

His heart swung like a pendulum between utter joy at seeing his face again and raging anger that he’d just shown up out of the blue.

He knew they’d run into each other eventually but figured it would be on the job. He thought he’d have more time to prepare for seeing those eyes again. Those same eyes that had looked into his whilst opening up his chest cavity and ripping out his heart by hand.

However, something was different about Tommy’s eyes. They weren’t the bright blue ones he was used to (and missed) seeing. They were dull and unfocused.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

Tommy’s eyes took a few seconds to focus on Buck before he spoke. His voice was not one Buck had ever heard from him before. It wasn’t the deep, confident one that comforted him after a bad call or whispered beautiful commands into his ear when naked and tangled up together in bed.

It was meek and fragile; his tone giving away that even he himself was surprised by what he was about to say:

“My dad died.”

The half of Buck heart that still existed solely for Tommy, cracked. He stepped aside to allow Tommy to enter and he took a few slow steps into Bucks apartment. He stood almost perfectly in between the door and the kitchen island just staring ahead.

Buck had the fight the instinct to wrap his arms around him. He couldn’t do that. Not now. He didn’t have the right—he wasn’t Tommy’s boyfriend anymore.

“Are.. are you okay?” He asked instead, rounding the island and standing at the other end. Tommys eyes continued to stare forward, not meeting his.

“I don’t.. I don’t know. We hadn’t talked in.. 10 years. I..”

Tommy had occasionally mentioned vaguely that he didn’t talk to his dad; compared him to Gerrard once, but that was about it. Buck hadn’t want to pry so didn’t asked about him.

Buck was uncertain about asking the question; terrified he’d scare Tommy away. But he’d never seen Tommy like this in the entire time they were together.

His shoulders were slumped; arms hanging loosely by his side—hands not on his hips or in his pockets like he’d usually stand. He was every bit not the Tommy he’d knew.

“Do you.. do you want to talk about it?”

Tommy’s eyes finally focused on Bucks and he could see the shiny emotion glazed across the surface that Tommy was trying to keep at bay.

Tommy nodded silently.

“Okay.” Buck said softly. “You go and sit on the couch and I’ll make us some tea.” Tommy didn’t respond but did as Buck asked and aimlessly walked over to the couch.

Buck opened a cabinet and slid a few things aside until the box of double bergamot tea came into view. It was Tommy’s favourite and Buck hadn’t thrown it away. Truthfully, he hadn’t gotten rid of anything that belonged to Tommy. Not his toothbrush, not his protein bars and not his pretentious tea.

Getting rid of Tommy’s things, even if they were just stupid unimportant things like his favourite snacks, meant getting rid of Tommy. Buck wasn’t ready for that. Instead he shoved Tommys toothbrush into the bathroom cabinet, hid the protein bars in the back of his pantry and his tea behind cans of soup.

He placed two mugs of steaming tea onto the coffee table and took at seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“Thanks.” Tommy said quietly.

“Can.. can I ask what happened?” Buck asked.

“Uh, doctors think it was a heart attack. The kid that delivered his newspaper every morning called the police when he hadn’t picked it up from the yard yesterday.” Tommy told him.

“How did he know something was wrong that soon?”

Tommy let out a small laugh but it was cold and empty. “Because he knew my dad wouldn’t leave it out longer than a few minutes. You so much as bend a blade of his grass in the wrong direction and you’d know about it.”

Resentment oozed from the word “his”. Along with the weight of a story Buck wasn’t privy to.

“He was.. he was particular about his front yard?”

“He was particular about everything. Everything had to be perfect. The perfect yard in front of the perfect house with the perfect family inside. Superficially anyway. But behind that front door..” he shook his head a swallowed. “..it was hell.”

There were a thousand questions Buck had in his desperation to know more about Tommy. But none he felt comfortable asking. He wasn’t talking about past relationships or old jobs—he was talking about his childhood. One that, judging by Tommy’s tone and his body language, wasn’t one he spoken about much before. If ever.

Buck was still struck by the difference in Tommy’s presence. He was sat on Bucks couch with his hands in his lap; fingers picking at his nails. His posture wasn’t upright and confident, instead he was almost curled down into himself.

Tommy reached forward and held the mug of tea in both hands without taking a sip, as though he were trying to preoccupy his hands.

“When I a kid, like 6 or something, my dad got a job in this warehouse doing night shifts. I’d help my mom cook dinner. Mostly by badly stirring stuff. But it was the only time it got to be just me and her.” A somber smile flashed across his face at the memory. “One night, my dad came home early; had a fight with the Forman and got fired. He was angry as hell when he walked in but when he saw me helping mom..” He blew out a breath. “He yanked me to him by my collar and screamed in my face that.. that only fags and women cook. I.. I was 6–I didn’t know what that word meant, but I knew it was a bad thing.”

Buck’s heart broke at Tommy’s confession. He had his own issues with his parents but at worst they were emotionally neglectful— they were never intentionally cruel or abusive. He couldn’t imagine being in an environment like Tommy’s.

“That was his go to insult for everything that was remotely feminine, or he thought was feminine. Unless you cried. That got you beaten into silence.”

Buck instinctively reached out and placed a hand on Tommy’s forearm.

“They need me to, uh.. identify is body formally tomorrow.” Tommy said stopping to take a breath. “I know that I don’t have the right to ask anything of you, but-“

“What time do we need to be there?” Buck interrupted. It was a no brainer to him to go with Tommy.

His feelings for the man—including the anger—were still deeply situated inside of him, and simply being in Tommy’s presence made it feel as though his heart was in a vice. But he’d take that pain for Tommy’s sake, if it could provide him even the smallest amount of comfort.

“Are you sure?” He asked finally looking at Buck. “I you don’t have to..”

Without thinking he reached up and held Tommy’s face with his hand. “I want to.” He said softly. Tommy closed his eyes for a second, tilting his head into Bucks hand.

For a fraction of a moment it felt like before. Like neither of them had had their hearts broken. The familiar feeling of Tommy’s unshaven jaw in Bucks hand, and the comforting feeling of Bucks palm on Tommy’s face.

Tommy pulled away from Bucks had with an awkward cough.

“I said I’d meet the coroner at the hospital at 1 o’clock. So, we should leave around 8am.” He said.

“Okay.”

Tommy put his half empty mug on the coffee table and stood up. “Thanks for the tea. I should go home.”

“No!” Buck replied louder and quicker than he had anticipated.

“Buck.” Tommy argued and Buck swallowed away the pain at hearing Tommy call him that. “That’s not-.”

“I mean you can stay on the couch.” Tommy opened his mouth to argue but Buck carried on. “I just.. I don’t think it’s safe for you to drive like this.”

Tommy looked as though he wanted to argue but didn’t.

“Okay.” He eventually conceded.

“I-I’ll get you a blanket.” Buck said leaving for his bedroom.

He opened his linen closet and stood behind it for a second to take a few breaths. His heart had been racing since the moment Tommy knocked on the door. So many conflicting feelings were bouncing around in his head and heart he was in danger of spinning out.

Torn between wanting to scream in Tommys face, letting him know in gory and intimate detail how he’d destroyed Bucks heart when he unceremoniously dumped him in the middle of his kitchen and walked out, and also wanting to tell Tommy he still loved him and beg him to take him back.

He blew out a last heavy breath and pulled out a blanket and pillow before walking back down the stairs.

Tommy took it from him and noticed the tag still attached at one of the corners. “New blanket?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Buck pulled off the tag. “Yeah I, uh.. bought it after you stayed on the couch when I dislocated my shoulder. That old one barely covered you.” He huffed a small laugh.

Tommy looked as though he wanted to say something and Buck looked back in anticipation. Instead Tommy turned away to lay the pillow on the other end of the couch.

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.” Buck walked to the stairs and climbed the first step.

“Thank you, Evan.”

His heart flickered at hearing his name spoken again from Tommy’s mouth. “You’re welcome, Tommy.”

*

Bucks sleep was patchy at best.

Tommy fucking Kinard, the man who helped to unlock the door to a hidden galaxy of feelings within himself; his ex boyfriend; the man who tore his heart to pieces ventricle by ventricle; the man who his ventricle-less heart still searched for to find its natural rhythm, was laying 6 feet beneath him.

How was he supposed to sleep soundly with that?!

Around 6:30am he got out of bed, bleary-eyed, and crept downstairs as quietly as possible to shower. He hoped that the steaming hot water that cascaded over his body would also wash away the apprehension he was feeling.

It did not.

After getting out and drying off he opened the cabinet under the sink to retrieve Tommy’s stupidly expensive (in Buck’s humble opinion) shower gel, along with his shampoo and put them both back in the shower, then put his toothbrush back into the holder in front of the mirror.

They looked like they belonged there. They did belong there. His bathroom had somehow looked entirely different for the last month having only a couple of things removed and hidden away. Every time Buck entered the room, a room he’d entered probably thousands of times in the years he’d lived there, without Tommy’s possessions dotted around, it looked empty.

As quietly as a he could he left the bathroom and put on the coffee. He was going to need caffeine today. And carbs. Lots of carbs. He eyed up the banana loaf that was still on the counter from last night and decided it was the perfect breakfast.

Buck walked over to the couch to wake up Tommy but stopped for a moment to look at him. He was lying on his back, one leg straight, the other bent with just a slither of his bare knee poking out of the side of the blanket.

His face was slack; calm and devoid of any of the grief.

Beautiful.

“Tommy?” He said tapping his leg. He shifted in his position but didn’t wake. “Tommy?” Buck said a little louder.

“Mmm five’more m’nits baby.” He mumbled and god did that shoot what felt like another lightning bolt directly to Bucks heart.

“Tommy.” He said louder and gave his knee a rougher shake. Tommy’s eyes shot open and he leaned up quickly scanning his surroundings before his eyes met Bucks. His body relaxed a little when he realised where he was.

“Sorry.” Buck said quietly. “It’s almost 7. I thought you might want to have a shower and some coffee before we left.”

Tommy rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times in an attempt to wake himself as he sat up.

“Uh, thanks.”

“There’s coffee in the kitchen and fresh towels in the bathroom. Help yourself.” He said. And god did it feel weird.

Informing him of fresh towels and beverages like it was a fucking hotel. He hadn’t had to do that in so long. From the moment they started dating Tommy had slid into place in Bucks apartment as though he’d always been there. They’d move in sync around the place whilst getting ready for the day or winding down for bedtime.

Tommy knew where the towels were kept and the wash cloths. He knew which shelf Buck preferred to keep his milk and where he’d keep his extra stack of dish sponges. Extra pillows, batteries for the TV remote and the secret stash of ice cream in the back of the freezer Buck always denied the existence of—Tommy knew it all.

And now Buck was forced to treat him like a temporary guest.

Tommy sat up fully and stretched before removing the blanket. Of course the first thing Buck noticed was Tommy was only wearing boxers on his lower half. He knew Tommy didn’t like wearing sweats or pyjamas to bed and yet he hadn’t prepared his eyes to catch sight of him like this again.

He bit back a sound and quickly turned on his heels and made for his bedroom closet returning a minute later with clothes in his arms and hoping Tommy had had the sense to put his sweats back on.

He had thankfully.

Buck placed the clothes on the table. “Some fresh clothes.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“They’re, uh, yours.” Buck said feeling a flush of embarrassment slither through him.

“Oh.” Tommy said looking at the washed out jeans and navy hoodie that he knew would have “LAFD Harbor Station” logo on its breast. “I thought you’d have thrown them out.” He sounded surprised.

“I wouldn’t just throw them away—they belonged to you.” He walked over to the coffee pot; a sudden need to turn away from Tommy’s face. “I wasn’t ready to get rid of them yet.”

If Tommy wanted to say something, he kept it hidden. Buck poured two mugs of coffee and turned back to hand one to Tommy.

Without thinking Tommy walked to the fridge—something he always did before—to retrieve the milk.

“Jesus.” He said being suddenly face to face with some serious competition to the Great British Bake Off.”

Buck flushed with embarrassment once more. “Yeah, I-I’ve been baking.”

“I can see that.” Tommy replied not being able to look away from the baked goods.

“Uh, here.” Buck moved a few things out of the way to get to the milk that had been pushed to back.

His shoulder brushed up against Tommy’s and his stomach twisted at the familiar touch. He ached to stand there body to body; basking in Tommy’s familiar smell and warmth. Instead he moved away to shove a mouthful of banana bread into his mouth to distract himself.

“I’m gonna take that shower.” Tommy told him and disappeared into the bathroom.

*

The drive up to Tommy’s old town was mostly quiet. Buck had tried arguing that Tommy didn’t have to drive but he insisted. He’d asked about the 118 and Buck had told him what they’d be up to (aside from Maddie being pregnant), and how Denny was recovering. Buck had asked about Lucy and Melton and the others at the Harbor and Tommy had filled him in about Meltons anniversary and Lucy’s latest dating debacle.

They didn’t talk about them—as an ex couple or individually. Neither asked what the other had been up to or how each of them was and both seemed to be content with that for now. Just driving the open road towards Tommy’s past.

Buck wasn’t new to seeing a dead body; the sad reality of his job. But there was something entirely different about peering through a window in a hospital corridor and seeing someone lying still and pale on a gurney with a sheet draped up to the chest.

The clinical nature of the moment gave Buck an uncomfortable feeling. His eyes took in Thomas Kinard Sr’s features and he tried to connect them to Thomas Jr’s. He definitely had his father’s nose and those cheek bones were definitely from the Kinard family gene pool. Everything else he must have gotten from his mother. Bucks mind drifted to what she would look like.

He was pulled back to reality when Tommys hand grabbed onto his for stability.

“Yeah. Yeah that’s him. Thomas Kinard.”

After signing a few forms, the hospital were happy with Tommy’s formal identification and sent him on his way with information about a local funeral home and a clear plastic bag with his fathers wallet and keys inside that had been on his body when he was brought into the hospital.

25 minutes. That’s how long it took to walk into a hospital, identity your father’s dead body, sign some forms and walk out.

They got back into Tommys truck and he blew out a deep breath.

“You okay? That.. that was hard, I know.”

“Yeah. I’m.. I’m okay.” Tommy answered. Buck wasn’t sure whether to believe him. He seemed okay but Buck was well aware how good Tommy was at keeping things to himself.

“What do you want to do now?” Buck asked.

“I think.. I think I want to go home.”

“Okay. But I’m driving this time. And no argument, Tommy, you-“

“No.” Tommy interrupted. “My dad’s house.”

[nerdee-blondee]

i haven't stopped thinking about this deleted raunchy scene with lucanis ever since i saw it ☠️

if i was a fanfic writer i would be BUSTING out a one shot but ALAS i am not SO here i will give you my description on how this scene would go with my rook Valeria ✨

the premise is, my LOF valeria will be traveling to tevinter and isabela gives her a little side mission since she's in the area to find a relic that is submerged in water. (this will also take place after the almost-kiss scene in the pantry so valeria and lucanis are a WEE BIT awkward atm)

(WE ARE ALSO retconning that at least my rook can't swim. there is NO WAY IN HELL that my PIRATE LORD OF FORTUNE rook can't swim.)

SO valeria will bring lucanis and neve on this excursion. but neve will have gotten a lead on a tip and have to leave this outing to head for dock town, so it just leaves lucanis and valeria.

they get to this place where the information they have to go off says it is and see it's a beautiful little oasis area. and valeria starts to strip off her armor so she can swim down and grab the relic. lucanis, who is DESPERATELY trying not to stare at her undressing form, makes a snide comment about "not being able to swim" and valeria will get defensive like "I'LL HAVE U KNOW i most definitely CAN swim but you try swimming with all that armor and gold that i wear" "well maybe all that armor and gold is a restriction in battle?" "YOU try being a treasure seeking pirate WITHOUT all the gold"

and the tension from their previous NOT kiss will dissipate. than valeria will be like "this would go a lot faster if you came in and helped me find the damn thing". and so lucanis, after a beat, would start stripping down as well and both would go into the crisp clear waters. fully focused on finding this relic, they are all business for a time. until eventually they find it and all is well and good with their side mission. until lucanis gets out and looks back to valeria and asks "are you getting out?". as valeria is now floating in the waters says "have you ever dreamed about being a fish?" and this would stir a whole conversation about valeria's childhood as lucanis takes a seat on the edge of the water to listen.

"i miss when my life was simple and all i had to worry about was why i couldn't be a fish and be able to swim in the seas forever. not have to constantly worry about 2 ancient elven gods and the whole state of the world crumbling around me..." after this moment of vulnerability valeria would sit up and, like the little shit she is, send water careening over at him. and lucanis, now wet again, shakes his head and jumps in to splash her himself. and they have a really nice "battle" where valeria will use some magic to accurately get him in the face. and then lucanis will dive under water to grab her ankles and pull her under the water's surface. after this they would both remerge and laugh in a way that haven't been able to since all of this god-hunting started. their laughter dies down as they are just looking at each other and then they both realize they are a little too close. and they have too little clothes on. both of them just look at each other. not wanting to break whatever is happening in this moment between them. then very slowly, not wanting to scare him off, valeria goes to reach for a stray piece of hair that is stuck on lucanis' forehead. she wipes it away and slowly brings that hand to cup his cheek. he full on melts into her touch as both of their breathing seems to pick up a little. he opens his eyes that he didn't realize he closed and looks into her eyes and sees deep in her eyes that same desire from back in the pantry. and this time, he cannot find it in himself to ignore it.

he surges forward and kisses her. their first kiss. it's literally wet. and kind of clumsy as first kisses go. a small squeak leaves valeria's mouth as it happens and now, she finds herself melting into his brief touch. the kiss is over as quickly as it began. and they are both staring at each other and panting as if they had just run a marathon. they again stare into each other's eyes and both notice that the other's irises are being swallowed up by their pupils. one kiss has set both of them off. neither of them knows who started this next round of kisses but they know they neither of them want to stop. they are hungrily grabbing at each other and their lips don't leave each other. as if the others lips have all the answers to all the questions in the universe. her hands are caressing his beard and his face while his one hand is rooted at the base of her neck and in her hair while the other has a death grip on her hip.

than after a few of the best minutes of just savoring each other's kisses, lucanis brings his lips to all over her face. a kiss on the nose. on the forehead. on both cheeks. on the corners of her mouth. all, he hopes, conveys his apologies to not being able to show his love attraction for her sooner. and, as if she understood this sentiment, valeria gently places her hand on the back of his head while he indulges. as he feels her hand on the back of his head he groans and brings his lips down to her neck. when he gets to her neck, she lets out a gasp. she already has a sensitive neck but his beard there makes her squirm in the most delicious way. after hearing her gasp, he lets out another groan that turns more into a growl and he starts to lavish her neck with his tongue and small bites....

AAAAND THAT'S WHERE WE GET THE CUT IMAGE. after finishing typing ALL THAT i realized i basically wrote a fanfic LOLOL. but YEA this is how my valeria and lucanis would have their first kiss and almost immediately fuck but they are able to restrain themselves.

their FIRST TIME would probably be right after murder of crows, and after the deleted gondola scene! WE ARE DESCREATING VILA DELAMORTE BABY 😏😏

[fereldenshero]

i am not going to let the paranoid thinking win ♥ everything is fine and cool and normal and i am inventing problems to be worried about <- AFFIRMATIONS !!!!

[gods-perfect-idiots]

❤️💛

[usercelestial]

damn the 911 episode 2x05 Awful People really fucks right now

[ebodebo]

The Bewitching

—thinking about roommate!simon riley seeing you in your halloween costume… MDNI

"Where's your sexy roommate anyway, babe?" Your friend, dressed as a sexy witch, purred from her spot on a stool around the kitchen island. You had invited two friends over to spend Halloween with you since your roommate, Simon, had to work.

"He, uh, had to work," you say, taking a sip of your wine. Your witchy friend's eyes widened as she carefully dipped a pita chip into some hummus.

"On Halloween?" She gawked, pushing the chip into her mouth, eyes wide. You also take a chip and swirl it around in the hummus before shrugging.

"Seems so," you say, inhaling the chip. You turn to pull open the fridge, reaching for a bottle of champagne. Once you turn back, you see your other friend dressed as a sexy police officer, head slightly titled in confusion, her eyes carefully observing your costume.

"So, what are you supposed to be? A sexy nurse?" She questions. You raise your brows, perplexed that she couldn't tell who you were.

"You're kidding, right?" You urge, waiting a minute before continuing to see if she is joking. She shakes her head no, pursing her lips. You shake your head in disbelief. "Debs, I'm one of the nurses from Silent Hill."

"Should've gotten Simon to dress as pyramid head," your sexy witch friend instantly says. You flick your eyes to hers to see a smirk spreading on her lips.

"Oh, please," you laugh out. "Over his dead body would he ever willingly dress up." You take a sip of your wine, stalling when you hear the sound of a familiar truck pulling into the driveway.

"Oh, looks like your big guy is home," Debs winks. You roll your eyes, set your wine glass down, and head for the front door. You step out to see Simon searching for something in his truck.

"Hey," you greet. "What're you doing back so early?" He doesn't avert his attention from some loose papers he was scanning over.

After a minute, he says, "Price had a Halloween thing for his kid." He continues sifting through loose papers. "So, here I am," he dryly says, eyes still focused on the papers.

"Okay. FYI, the girls are inside—" You start before he interrupts, finally turning around to face you.

"If you want, I can just go to a bar, or—" He abruptly stops, eyes wandering down your body, taking in your costume—which included a very provocative dress. He swallows deeply as his eyes sweep over your exposed thighs, up to the deep dip of your breasts on display.

"Simon?" You prod, trying to understand why he has stopped speaking. He drags his eyes up to look into yours.

"You—what are you supposed to be?" He lazily questions.

"Um, a nurse," you say; he tilts his head to the side.

"Never seen a nurse look like that," he sticks his tongue out to wet the seam of his dry lips. You feel a sudden rush of embarrassment.

"It's from a—a game," you quickly say, rocking back on the heels of your feet. "It's kind of stupid," you turn your head away from him, trying to hide some embarrassment from his gaze.

"I like it," his eyes shamelessly drag down the length of your body. You flick your eyes back to him, offering him a small smile, noting the way his eyes become darker as the seconds pass.

"Ya?" You're shocked that you managed to get a word out since your mouth had turned to ash. Dry as a bone.

"Mhm," he hums as he takes a step towards you. You swallow hard as he steps closer to you, close enough for his fingers to graze the hem of your dress, tugging it down gently so it covers a little more of your thighs.

"Simon," you breathlessly say as you feel his fingers graze your bare skin.

"Dress ridin' up a little high," he murmurs, though he doesn't take his fingers away from you. He looks down at you, taking in your lazily closed eyes. "Have you gone out yet?"

"Wha—no. Didn't really want to," your tone is a little wobbly now as his hand slowly skimmed under your dress. You release a shallow breath.

He tilts his head back slightly. "No? What is it you wanted to do then?" He continues his movements, skimming his fingers up your thigh, slowly maneuvering between them. You find yourself gripping his shoulders. "Huh?" He tuts.

"I don't—I don't know," you choke out, dropping your head slightly as his hand grazes your cunt over your already wet underwear. You find yourself pushing yourself into his palm.

He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath grazing against the shell of your ear. "Did you want me to see you in this little outfit?" He whispers. You lean into his words flowing in your ear. "You knew how badly I wanted to touch this pretty pussy. Didn't you?" You let out an involuntary moan at his words, tightening your grip on his shoulders.

His pointer and middle finger slip into you through your underwear, grazing your clit. You find yourself rocking against his fingers to get more friction. "Ah, fuck. That's it, pretty girl," he groans, moving his fingers faster. "Keep fucking my fingers—just like that."

He pulled you closer onto him with his other hand, gripping your ass tightly to get you more friction. You leaned your head into his chest, moaning as his fingers continued to move in you.

"Fuck, baby. Look at me—look at me," he commands. You flick your head up to look him in the eyes; his mouth is slightly parted from panting. "Just like that," he pants, watching your mouth agape as he coaxes your orgasm, making you come in your underwear.

He holds you up as your body spasms, gifting him with the sweet mewls you spew. Once your orgasm subsides, he grips one side of your soaked underwear, slipping it down your thighs and tucking it into the pocket of his cargo pants he wore.

You look up at him, doe-eyed, before you look around in horror. "Oh my—you just, you just fingered me in the front yard," you frantically say, taking a step away from him. His lip quips at your genuine anguish.

"I know. I was there," he monotonously says. Anxiously, you bring your hands to thread through your hair. Your eyes widen even more.

"Oh my—my friends," you exclaim, whipping your head to your house.

"Guess you'll have some explaining to do," he casually says.

"Fuck you," you remark.

"Hungry for more already?" He smirked, pulling you by the arm closer to him so you rested flat against his body.

"No—you know that's not what I meant!"

a/n: happy almost halloween! take my treat to u all! divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!