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ghostwise · 2 days

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Matacuervos, ch. 4 - La joya Hamal and Zevran find a lead in the brothels of Rialto, but will they manage to investigate it in time? Read update on AO3 - Read from the beginning on AO3

“Philanthropists,” the woman said with a flourish, and she snapped her fan shut in distaste.

It was hot in the basement of the brothel, La espina dorsal , and the thick and heavy scent of bodies permeated the room. The heat was making her make-up drip off, which was quite a sight to see amidst a backdrop of entwined lovers.

“Philanderers, more like,” she continued. “They claim it’s all worth it if the babes end up cared for. That a Chantry cloister will protect them better than here.”

“You doubt it?” Zevran asked.

She scoffed.

“Not without reason,” she said. “But… if they are so charitable why not come for the orphans sooner? Why wait years between visits? Why not take every child in need, not just the healthy ones?” Bitterness laced her voice, sending a shiver down Zevran’s spine. “All I know is, the day my friends were taken was the day I decided I was done with the Maker. Perhaps you can ask the Chantry why they don’t help all of us; why a bum leg makes a six year old girl unfit to serve Andraste, but fit enough to stay in this sty.”

Zevran glanced at Hamal, sharing the same grim thought. Rocio’s mangled leg would have been a death sentence for a young Crow recruit. And yet, leaving her behind was no mercy.

Zevran shifted closer, asking his next question with great care.

“It seems your friends were taken around the time frame we are investigating. Do you recall anything else about the day they left?”

A lengthy pause followed. Her eyes briefly seemed to focus elsewhere, before she answered. “No. I’m sorry. They didn’t leave any information. Just said I wouldn’t be a good fit where they were going.”

“Thank you for your time,” Zevran said when they had finished talking. “And your lovely company.”

“Didn’t even do nothing!” Rocio chuckled, taking the money. “But alright. See you ‘round.”

Stepping out of the brothel, Zevran couldn’t help but feel as stifled as he had indoors.

The sun bore down like a dagger. They’d spent all day searching for leads, visiting brothels and orphanages across the city with the same story: that they were tracking down a long-lost relative.

It was not entirely a lie. Zevran felt a genuine kinship with the workers of Rialto’s brothels; they had raised him, after all, and just like anyone else in the city, they sought only to make a living, to raise enough coin to build a life. But they had few protections when things went wrong. A single misfortune—a death, an illness, or an arrest—was all it took. When children were involved, it spelled grim consequences.

They had yet to find any tangible evidence, but many of the brothels had reported curiously similar anecdotes: a generous donor, a charitable organization, or an anonymous do-gooder who arrived to adopt the forgotten children. The offer would come with uncanny timing, often just when it was needed most. And who could argue against one less mouth to feed?

No records, no documentation of where they’d go. It was easy for the city to look the other way, for these were orphans or bastards or both. And so they were taken, no questions asked.

It made Zevran’s blood boil.

He sulked in a bad mood the entire way back to the cheap sawdust inn they’d paid double what the humans paid to lodge at. He persisted in a sour mood through dinner, and even after they went to bed—only to wake Hamal in the small hours of the morning, too angry to sleep.

“I do not think it was the Chantry that came for those children ten years ago,” Zevran hissed. “Or perhaps I don’t want to believe it… and yet, Sister Tristeza spoke of this allegiance between the Crows and the Chantry. How deeply does it run? I am a devout man—even I’ve heard rumours that one bore the other long ago.”

“Which one?” Hamal asked in a sleep-tinged voice, but Zevran continued in frustration.

“Of course a girl with a mangled leg would be found unfit for the Crows. She would have died during training. But would knowing the true fate of her friends change anything? She was abandoned. She needed saving.” Here he paused, for his anger threatened to spill over.

Rocio’s fate felt intertwined with his, separated only by happenstance. Her mangled leg had saved her, but not from everything.

“Could she still need saving?” Hamal asked, and Zevran realized, by the cadence of his words, that he was half-asleep. “Could we?”

The question resonated enough to slow Zevran’s racing thoughts. He couldn’t tell whether Hamal meant could we need saving, also? or could we save her?

It felt self-aggrandizing to think they could save anyone, damned as they already were.

“I don’t fucking know,” he said at last, all too aware of his bitterness leeching out.

Hamal sighed and regarded Zevran for a long moment.

“Someone will put a stop to it,” he said finally. “The people will not allow it to continue once they realize what is happening. They will wonder why they never hear word from the adopted, and they will be wary when the next Crow recruiter comes.”

“With any luck,” Zevran said fiercely, “We’ll find him ourselves first. And put daggers in him until he tells us all we need to know.”

“Exactly.” Hamal fell back onto his pillow, like a log. “Come back to bed, vhenan .”

Zevran shook his head. Sleeplessness had claimed him already—yet he grudgingly climbed under the thin sheets with Hamal.

“I will, but I won’t sleep.”

“Keep watch then,” Hamal said, in a voice drowsy enough to curb any argument. He latched onto Zevran’s arm and then he was out like a light—leaving Zevran in awe of how quickly his husband could sleep, even in these circumstances.

Dawn broke over the city and fatigue had tempered Zevran’s anger for the time being. He’d managed to sleep for an hour or two before they began the day’s investigations. Fortunately he was used to running on fumes.

“How many brothels are there in Rialto?”

It was a particularly sunny morning. Hamal had pushed all of his curls into a messy bun, and shoved the whole mess beneath a wide-brimmed sombrero , but Zevran rather suspected he needed more sun protection than that. For now he led him through shaded alleyways, avoiding the crowded main streets and the direct sunlight.

“It’s a very large port city,” he responded.

“So?”

“Lots.” Zevran smiled at him. “About a dozen at least. Ah, if only we were here under better circumstances! A brothel is normally a place of good cheer and relaxation.”

“We will just have to come back when we are not tracking down slavers,” Hamal said with a smile.

“Now there’s an idea,” Zevran said, contemplating it. His thoughts briefly recalled The Pearl in Denerim. “In any case,” he continued, “one of these places is bound to have a lead. Someone, somewhere, knows something. We just need to find the right person to talk to.”

“Perhaps,” Hamal said. “We may have already found her.”

He gestured with a short motion of his head to the cobblestone road behind them. Zevran followed his gaze.

It took him a moment to recognize her without the heavy layers of make-up, and she walked in the company of another woman, but her dark curls were the same as when they’d seen her yesterday, and she carried the same light-weight aluminum cane with her. It caught the light and shone like a mirror as she swung it forward with every step.

She greeted them with the false names they had taken to using in the city. “Amrit! Hirael! My, you two are hard to track down!”

“How did you manage?” Zevran asked.

“Whores talk, you know,” Rocio laughed. “I mentioned your visit to my friend here, and I quickly learned you’d been visiting nearly every brothel this side of town. I said, Maker, he must have an appetite!”

The woman beside her offered her hand. “Elena,” she said, giving Zevran and Hamal’s a hearty shake. “I work at La joya. ”

“A pleasure,” Zevran said.

“It will be,” Rocio said. “Tell them!”

Elena waved her hand excitedly, beckoning Zevran closer, and when he was near enough, she whispered: “A man came to La joya a few days ago,” she said. “He was from some charity in Salle. A trade school for impoverished children. He said his work took him around the country—to brothels, orphanages, hospitals, you know. Places where children often wound up alone. They’d teach them to read and write, and hire them out to factories who would provide for them while they worked. Any child! The elves, the humans, even if they were mage-blooded. Sounds fishy, hm?”

Zevran took a deep breath. This was it; exactly what they’d been looking for.

“Can we find somewhere to talk?” he asked. “You can tell us what you know, and we will tell you a little more about why we are here.”

They came to a brick building, covered in flowers that clung to the walls in enticing greenery. La joya lived up to its name. The windows glimmered and the scent of perfume was strong, even outside. Inside, the atmosphere likened more to a spa or a fine bathhouse. This did not escape Zevran, who raised a brow, looking at Hamal.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been here,” he said.

“Can’t say I’ve ever worked here,” Rocio sighed. She rubbed her hip with a grimace as they walked on.

They were greeted by several guests as they went. More than once, Elena kissed a patron on the cheek, shook hands, or embraced them with a cheerful, “Lovely to see you! But it’s my day off, darling. Do come again tomorrow.”

Down a hallway and to the left, they passed a well-stocked kitchen, then exited again to a central courtyard where potted flowers were arranged in clusters along the path. It was quiet, with the bustle of the streets lowered to a dim hum. From there they crossed the way to another building, which rose above the treeline.

“Where are we going?” Hamal asked.

“To speak to the boss,” Elena said. “The apartments are this way.”

“Apartments? Your employer lives where the workers live?” Zevran asked.

It was far from what Zevran was expecting. The building they arrived at was a tenement for the workers—aged, with flaking plaster, small and humble rooms, yet clean and maintained. When Elena knocked on the door, it was like they were visiting anyone on the street. The middle-aged woman who answered looked like any woman at the market.

“Ah, it is you!” she said, and waved everyone inside. “Come on in. I take it you are you the ones tracking down your family?”

Rocio made a beeline to a wood and wicker chair near the woodstove. She sat and hung her cane on a hook on the wall, then procured a small bag of tobacco from a drawer.

“Mind if I smoke?” she asked.

Elena walked into what could barely be termed a living room. She dropped into the lap of a tall light-haired man, who kissed her, gripping her tightly by the shoulders.

“Take that as a yes,” Rocio hummed.

There were a lot of people in the apartment, gathered together with the ease of friends who’d known one another for years. For a moment, Zevran wondered if he’d misunderstood the purpose of the visit, but they were guests, and so, he practiced patience for the time being.

“Thank you for having us,” Zevran said, shifting his bag off his shoulder. “Who is the owner of La joya?”

Rocio stifled a laugh. She grinned, as if she was revealing a grand secret with her answer.

“Everyone!”

It took a bit of explaining.

There were nine people crammed into that tiny apartment, six of them workers at La joya . Besides Elena, there were Damian and Cora—prostitutes. Lara, who had answered the door, managed the washrooms. Jania, an elven bodyguard on her day off. Terrance, a stripper—distinguished from Damian and Cora for his strict no-touch policy, though he assured them, he had no need of touch to leave his audience satisfied.

“I don’t quite understand,” Hamal said in whispered to Zevran in Common. “They explained it too quickly.”

“It is something like what the workers of The Pearl did,” Zevran explained. “But they went a step further—they pooled their money to buy the entire business.”

“We are the Rialto Society of Pleasures,” Elena said with a flourish. “Cooperatives like this exist across the country—but we are the first for workers of brothels and pleasure houses. We keep the money we make, and work together to run things.”

“It works,” Rocio drawled amidst puffs of smoke, “more or less. There is quite a bit of turnover—”

“Because no one is bound to stay,” Lara said. “That is important. No contracts. Just rent, and board, for those who opt to live in the tenement, that sort of thing.”

Zevran took in the information as he did anything else in life; recognizing its immediate impact on him (none) and its objective merit (excellent). He sidled up to the counter in the small kitchen and looked at all the proud and smiling faces around him.

If his mother had wound up in a brothel like this—

But she hadn’t. No use dwelling on it.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said. “Were I not otherwise occupied with my husband I might even consider applying!”

“Really?” Rocio giggled. “Get in line. My application’s been in for months.”

They had good reason to be proud. Not every prostitute was so fortunate. And yet, it had taken years, a lot of work, and a dash of luck to make it happen.

But they had not come here to talk about business; Zevran quickly refocused.

“Now that we understand how things are run here, tell us about this visitor you received. Who exactly spoke to this man?”

“Jania and Damian,” Lara said.

“And so when the stranger came and offered to adopt any orphaned children…”

“We told him we had no unwanted children,” Damian explained. “Some of the workers choose to raise families, yes. And occasionally we take in children when their parents cannot care for them. But it’s never a hardship. So he left empty-handed. That was that.”

“But that was not all,” Hamal observed after a moment, in his careful Antivan. “Or why talk to us?”

A lull passed over the small group. Rocio pulled a deep drag from her cigarette.

“We robbed him,” Jania said.

“Ha!” Hamal’s face lit up; his Antivan was still middling, but he understood her easily.

Damian produced a piece of paper from his waistcoat pocket. He passed it to Cora who passed it to Lara, who handed it to Zevran, who unfolded it.

“These fools are always writing shit down and it is their own undoing,” Hamal observed in Common, as he read over Zevran’s shoulder.

The paper contained a handwritten list of brothels in the city. The majority of them were struck out, along with a tally system beside some of the names. Only a few on the list remained unchecked. El milagro was one of the brothels which had not yet been struck through.

“I didn’t like him,” Damian said. “He gave me a bad feeling. But I didn’t think anything of it until Rocio stopped by, and mentioned your search for information. Could this have anything to do with it?”

Zevran creased the paper slightly, brow furrowed. “These tallies…”

“Whores he slept with, we assumed,” Rocio said.

“No,” Zevran said softly. “Children they’ve taken. I think I must tell you,” he said, looking up at the Rialto Society of Pleasures, “The truth. But it is horrible. And we have little time to act.”

Rocio had put out her cigarette. She sat hunched at the table, lost in her thoughts, and she hadn’t spoken since Zevran explained his suspicions and his lived proof. Sometimes the truth was cruel. Even when it was necessary.

The rest of them considered what could be done.

“We should bring the list to the city guard,” Jania suggested.

“What will they do, exactly? A piece of paper is hardly proof of anything. Even if they believed us, something tells me they wouldn’t exactly jump to action,” Elena said.

“Unfortunately, you are correct,” Zevran said. “What I have shared with you is already common knowledge in some circles; I am quite certain the owner of the brothel I grew up in knew exactly where he was sending us off to. But… you deserve to know for yourselves, what has been happening all these years.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“We are going to find them,” Hamal said slowly. “And kill them.”

“His Antivan is not very good,” Zevran added in the silence that followed. “He means, we will tie them up. As in, we will capture them.”

Hamal glanced at him, annoyed.

Zevran held up the note. “You have helped us tremendously with this information alone,” he said. “Thank you. I pray you never have to deal with these slavers again. If we have any success, you won’t.”

“That’s all?” Rocio asked, looking up at him over an ashtray.

“Please! Whatever you are going to do, we want to be a part of it,” Elena insisted. “These are our children targeted.”

Zevran frowned. He strongly felt that it was not wise to get more people involved; too many hands in too delicate of a situation. He had intended to warn rather than invite, to protect rather than endanger, but Hamal set a hand on his shoulder, switching to whispered Common.

“Might be good to have eyes out, Zev. There are a lot of names on this list and we cannot surveil all of them. Let’s do it this way,” he said, gesturing to the paper. “Send them here, and here… At the very least they can carry a warning. Just in case.”

Zevran nodded thoughtfully.

It occurred to him, not for the first time, how much more daunting this journey would be like without Hamal’s counsel and support.

“Very well. Then help us in this,” he said, turning back to the group, “We cannot visit every site on this list tonight. Go to these locations.” He dabbed a gloved finger into the ashtray, and used it to indicate several names, before handing the list back to Elena. “But be discreet; simply warn them that a suspicious person might come, bearing lies. And I beg you— do not mention us, by description or name. You could endanger yourselves more than you realize.”

“Got it,” Elena said, scanning the paper already. “Let’s split up.”

“What do we do if we find the bastard?” Damian asked.

Zevran hesitated. “Stall. Wait for us to arrive.”

“But-”

“We will be there,” Zevran said quickly. “Now, we have a few hours to act; these visits, to my knowledge, happen under cover of night. We must prepare.”

Zevran clasped Hamal’s arm and led him away from the building at a frantic pace. That small apartment had begun to feel claustrophobic. He wanted it far behind, and besides, he knew where they were needed next.

“I’m sweating,” Hamal said, walking along hurriedly. “That building was hot. Zevran. What-”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked simply, voice clipped in urgency. Signs and windows rushed past as they half-jogged through the streets.

“Yes! The next place they will try to buy recruits from—that woman at El milagro ,” Hamal said. “She was afraid of you because she was expecting someone. Someone she didn’t want you to meet.”

“Exactly,” Zevran hissed. “He is going there soon, I know it. She wanted us gone, because she knew —she knew who I was and she knew why we were there and—”

“He is definitely going to be at El milagro . But Zevran, slow down—”

Hamal dug his heels in. Exercising a bit of his marital privilege, he scooped Zevran up into his arms, steadying him for a moment.

“Breathe, vhenan,” he said firmly. And quickly set him back down, before Zevran had a chance to complain.

Zevran huffed, glancing up at him then glaring away. “If it is the same man…”

“I know.” Hamal plucked the string of his bow, worn around his chest. “I can handle it.”

Zevran shook his head. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Listen: point at something for me to shoot. Go on. There’s no one around.”

Zevran frowned at the game. He hesitated to waste time when every second seemed necessary, but truly, he was not thinking clearly. He did as he was told. “That water pail,” he said, feeling mischievous and a little mean.

In an instant it was useless, holed up with an arrow from Hamal’s bow.

“Again,” Hamal said. “A challenge.”

Knowing perfectly well what he was capable of, Zevran spied around for a moment. Then he spoke, with an arm outstretched. “That poster on the wall, the red one. Sixty yards down. By the flowers.”

Hamal took a moment to aim, but he loosed an arrow just as easily. Of course, it hit dead center.

They walked together to retrieve the arrows.

“It will be that simple,” Hamal spoke. “You will not need to be strong, fast, or even brave for this, Zevran. Just point at him. If this is hard for you, just tell me where to shoot.”

“Amor, I appreciate that. But this will be difficult,” Zevran explained, pulling his arrow out of the wall it had embedded itself in, “Because we will need this man alive.”

He handed it to Hamal, with a somber look as the Warden took the arrow.

“We will need to take him and question him. We cannot kill him right away. That complicates things. Increases the risk of things going wrong. Think: Can he signal someone? Will he be alone or will he have backup? Will he be armed? Will he have…”

He stopped, unable to say it.

“Children with him,” Hamal concluded with a sigh. He understood, then. “Oh, ma vhenan. There was nothing you could have done for those boys in the church.”

Zevran nodded, avoiding his gaze. More than anything, he worried about what might happen.

“Let’s go,” he said.

#rinnywrites #dragon age #zevran arainai #zevran x warden #mahariel #oc: hamal mahariel #matacuervos #fingers crossed the next update doesn't take six months <3

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zehecatl · 5 months

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in a voice that definitely isn't choked with tears yeah Stray is just a really good game i think everyone on the whole fucking planet should play it

#stray game #IT'S ABOUT HUMANITY IT'S ABOUT LOVE IT'S ABOUT WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND #YOU ARE LITERALLY SEEING HUMANITY THROUGH THE LENS OF WHAT WE'VE LEFT BEHIND. YOU ARE LITERALLY SHOWED THE LOVE WE LEFT BEHIND #YOU ARE LITERALLY GIVEN THE ECHO OF HUMANITY AND YOU GROW TO LOVE IT AND SDJGKSJGKSG #I'M NEVER OVER THIS GAME!!! LIKE JUST!!! FYI!!

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hermitcraftx · 3 months

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Why the FUCK are Southerners under the impression they're even welcomed on the internet ANYMORE????? Sorry but this is genuinely fucking rancid I feel fucking unsafe knowing that my spaces are being invaded by you fucking people. Fucking disgusting that it's 2024 and we can't hold piece of shit racists and Confederate nazis accountable for literal fucking war crimes and slavery anymore.

hey man. whats going on. this is such a weird thing to say to someone else on the internet life would be so beautiful if you stepped outside and talked to a real person for once. btw did you know the south is mostly full of poor people and black people and acting as if being from a place makes a person inherently a bigot is very weird almost as if it's pushing a classist narrative. Thats so wacky lol

#sorry i got this out on discord #but other parts of america love to pin ALLLL of their bigotry and crimes on the south. racism misogyny homophobia etc #so they dont have to reflect on themselves and do introspection as to what theyre doing wrong. bc make no mistake its rampant other places #<- europe does this with america too. lol. lmfao #but other places love to act like they're educating or modernizing or fixing the south when they just. want to turn it into where they #came from. when they move here and buy up all the cheap land and skyrocket prices and chop down huge swathes of forest #to build solar panels for 'eco friendly energy' despite THOUSANDS of acres of wood lost.#and its so weird that a lot of these attitudes about being better than them inherently and being lesser human beings are pushed in every ot #er area of the country. its almost as if its long rooted classism and racism #there are queer people living in the south. trans people. people of color. you cant just tell us all to leave to be redeemed #we deserve to live safe lives AND not have to leave behind everything we've ever known. what if we dont have the money??#but i guess you dont care abt that. lol. Lmfao #jamies bad posts #jamie answers asks #hate anon #jamies serious posts

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itsdappleagain · 11 months

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sorry ive posted forty thousand posts about our show in a row. i will do it again

#xanadu posting #what else do i want to talk about #OH #almost the whole cast went and saw the barbie movie yesterday #we ALL wore pink at it was SO COOL #the barbie movie has a WEIRDLY similar plot to ours #stop reading here for barbie movie spoilers #but like. xanadu? set in venice beach/los angeles with neon singing and rollerskates #barbie movie:#xanadu: has a main plotline about an immortal blonde girl who loves pink going to los angeles and meeting a person she ends up leaving her #-fantastical world behind for #giving up her immortality in order to be human and experience life with those she loves #barbie movie.#xanadu: comedy with fourth wall breaking galore and a lot of absurd and out of the blue comedy that references the source material its base #on and makes fun of it for the majority of its runtime #THE BARBIE MOVIE.#alright anyway you can copy my homework just change it a little! /j

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h0undeye · 1 year

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i think about hlvrv so much girl its not even like coherent thought im just like 💭hlvrv

#textpost #hlvrai #hlvrv #umbreoncomplex #i should reread it #“i think about hlvrv a lot” wow maybe its because im sourced from there 🤫#i love mentioning fictive things in my tags its not like im actively trying to hide it buts its like #a little treat for you guys ^_^#but its also because i wanna leave a little note that im a fictive so system followers can feel comfortable here #ANYWAY #YEAH hlvrv occupies my brain a lot #i might reread it #i definitely should #we never were big on ask blogs but then y2kvr and hlvrv came about and its like OH thats what the hype behind ask blogs is abt #i miss those guys #hlvrv got a nice conclusion and im not upset or anything that mothra ended it but i think no matter what i'll always kinda miss it ykwim?#even when media ends on a perfect note i cant help but miss it a little #such is the nature of humanity i think #woah deep anyway gordon amirite

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thetriangletattoo · 1 year

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#sometimes i think my friends are a bit mad at me bc i rarely send texts #or we rarely speak in general #we also live apart so sometimes when we're both in the same city we're not able to meet for a quick chat #but then i see them after months/almost a year #and they run toward me screaming my name #and everything is right #that's what love is about #that's what friendship is about #differences don't matter #time doesn't matter #places don't matter #it's just pure human connection #knowing the other person sharing experiences with them #idk i have so many nice thoughts #i complain a lot when I'm in my home town #especially bc i have no time for myself and I can't find a moment to just sot and draw for hours which is when i sit and relax and think #about stuff #but I'm also happy to be here bc i can catch up with a part of my life i never want to leave behind #sit and draw*

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adelheidvonschicksal · 6 months

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ It's Like That *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

You decide to accept Itadori's invitation to the movies. It turns out better than expected.

Pairing: Itadori x GN!Reader

CW: Fluff, SFW, hand holding, potential friends to lovers, it's technically a date 💕

“Do you guys want to see Human Earthworm 4 with me?”

The three of you minus Itadori, who posed the question, share a lukewarm look. You’re on the edge of the shopping district, trying to decide what to do after your mission, if anything, and that’s the first idea that floats out amongst the group.

“What’s it about?” Nobara asks.

After Itadori explains the horror romance, there’s even less enthusiasm amongst the group to watch the movie with him. Sensing this, he ups the bargain.

“I’ll pay.”

You wince when you see Fushiguro pull out his phone. “I don’t really have the energy to sit through a movie,” he excuses himself, fingers going a mile a minute to escape the situation of friendship for today. “I’m going home.”

Your broody classmate holds his ringing phone to his ear and briefly glances at Nobara.

“I’m going to hit up the shops," she responds to his silent question.

Megumi leaves the three of you behind in no time flat. Nobara only stays behind long enough to ask if you want to go shopping with her. While you normally love to go with her and are in dire need of new shoes, you notice a lonely sullen shadow building over your slit-cheeked classmate and throw up an apologetic smile to her.

“I think I’ll go with Itadori-kun today.”

You miss the way his head perks up as you wave her off. Before you have a chance to collect your thoughts, Itadori is already on top of you, his fists drawn in front of him excitedly and chestnut irises filled with happy stars.

“You’re going to love it,” he tells you. It’s cute how he nearly shakes with excitement, you can even hear it growing in his voice and shining in his eyes. “It’s such a good series! I mean, I know it sounded weird, but it’s so much better on screen that— forget any of what I said, you gotta see for yourself!”

He wastes no time taking off in the direction of the theatre, and you jog to keep up with the speed of the Tiger of the West. It isn’t until he notices you lagging behind that he slows up to grab your hand and pull you with him.

“Come on, come on, we don’t want to miss the opening.”

“Is this one of those movies where I need to see the first three to know what’s going on?”

“Well, there’s a few returning characters, like Dr. Richter, but I can fill you in on the important stuff so don’t worry.”

When you get to the theatre, Itadori immediately jumps in the ticket line, huffing in relief when there are still seats available. You begin to pull out your wallet but pause when he hands you a pink paper ticket.

“I told you it’s on me,” he reminds you before going down the line and ordering a large popcorn, two drinks, and beating you to grab a packet of candy that you were staring at for two seconds too long.

He hands the bag of sweets to the cashier to scan. “And this please,” he asks before handing the candy to you.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, but he laughs it off.

“It’s fine. That’s your favorite, right?”

You shyly nod and hold onto the envelope of overpriced candy like it’s the most precious thing in the world causing the cashier to smile at you as she finishes preparing your items.

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” she comments.

You squeak quietly at her comment, crumpling your candy in surprise. It’s not a big deal she mistook you as a couple, it’s not like Itadori was someone you didn’t like after all, and it’s not like there was any need to correct her but you didn’t know if he felt the same way about the situation.

Curiously, you look at him, waiting for him to make the decision on the matter. Surprisingly, he blurts out a quick and happy, “Thanks!” before moving on to fill his drink.

As you watch him, you fight the urge to ask why he didn’t correct her; and when you notice that he’s way more interested in finding the right theater, you decide he must have said it because it wasn't worth a fuss.

The two of you get seats at the back of the theater, and you shift over people carefully to avoid falling into Itadori’s back as you find your seats. You can finally relax as he sets the bucket of popcorn on the armrest between you.

Soon enough, the movie begins to play.

It starts off like every normal horror movie. A mad scientist, a hapless victim, and an escape followed by a romantic subplot of the human earthworm discovering that the woman he met indeed loves him even if he is a worm.

That’s about as much as you can keep up with. There are too many easter eggs that keep flying over your head and too many callbacks to the previous movies in the series. Itadori does his best to try to help you whenever you whisper questions at him; but eventually, you’re too distracted by the couple in front of you making out to pay attention to the movie.

It’s so obnoxiously grotesque, their arms wrapping around each other and a soft moan every so often that’s drowned out by the guttural sounds of the earthworm children. You can’t really believe they’d do that in public, and why did they have to be so close to you out of all people?

Itadori looks at you and then finally catches on to what’s making you squirm. When he does, a faint hint of red starts to coat across his nose, and he becomes equally uncomfortable.

Deciding to make it a little better for the both of you, you nudge him then make a silly disgusted face with your tongue stuck out to mimic a gag. You’re rewarded with a snicker from him and his own silly face in turn, and it makes the awkwardness of it a little easier to take as you try to focus back on the movie.

It’s another half hour in before you wonder exactly how the hell are they still going at it.

“Society really needs to bring shame back,” you think before a warm breath hits your ear and fans down your jaw.

You nearly jump before the smooth sounds of Itadori’s voice greet you.

“So, that guy—” he begins but you’re way too focused on how close he leaned into you this time, how low the timbre of his voice goes to keep from disturbing those around you. It makes your feet curl in your shoes and your breath catch in your chest when his shoulder connects with your arm.

You feel heightened to his presence and the heat of him so close. It wasn’t like this earlier, but your heart is racing and your skin tickles the more he whispers. You think he’s so close that he could almost kiss your earlobe.

It’s a path that you didn’t know you had in your mind, and it leaves you rattled as the smallest brush of pink hair hits your skin as he straightens back up and reaches for another handful of popcorn.

Every time he touches your arm after to get your attention or your hand scoops by his in the popcorn bucket, you start to become flustered and jittery like a child after too much sugar.

It lasts until the movie reaches its apex.

There’s a combined scream that fills the theatre, and you tense at the splatter of blood hitting the camera, leaving the few remains of your popcorn scattered across the floor as you unwittingly knock it over and squeeze Itadori’s hand tight.

Your fingers slot with his and your fingertips bury against his palm, and it’s the only thing keeping you from bursting into a scream.

When the lights flash back on, you notice how pink his hand looks under your tense hold and mumble out an apology.

“Oh, that?” he asks followed by the same charming laugh as always. “It was pretty funny. You should’ve seen your face, like a blowfish,” he comments, teasingly mocking your blow-eyed expression as everyone around you begins to exit. “I never took you for a scaredy-cat.”

“You’re one to talk. You screamed in my ear at least a dozen times,” you remind him as the two of you also make your way towards the exit doors. “Sounded like you were on fire.”

“Don’t say fire in a theatre!” he scolds with a hiss.

“You said it louder.”

“To remind you not to say it!”

You giggle at how offended he sounds as you break out into the light of the late afternoon. You walk with Itadori back to your pickup spot on the edge of the shopping district. It’s surprisingly quiet especially considering who you’re with, and it makes you worry a bit.

You thought Itadori would be more excited after watching the film and practically forcing you to run 500m dash to get there, but he’s barely said two words about it since leaving the theatre, briefly mentioning how he’s still glad they used a real costume for the main earthworm instead of CGI.

But since leaving, his mood seems to have dampened. You thought about bringing something up from the movie, but you couldn’t really catch more than a few bloody scenes and a little evil monologuing from Dr. Richter outside the moments when Itadori would have your attention, with his voice in your ear or his hand excitedly clasping around your wrist each time he enthusiastically info-dumped a scene to you.

“Hey, um,” he begins piquing your interest. He seems to lose his nerve when you catch his eye; his gaze flutters to his feet before nervously picking back up to glimpse at your face but only for a few seconds. “Thanks for coming with me.”

You smile. “Don’t mention it. It was…different.”

“Yeah,” he agrees but he still seems down.

“Itadori-kun? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…It’s just…I could tell you didn’t really like the movie. I mean I knew from the start it wasn’t really your thing. You and Nobara usually like to shop together more than watch horror movies. But still—” he breathes in deep, a shy color blossoming across his face. “It’s been a while since it felt like I did something normal, so it was really nice having someone to come with me. I appreciate it.”

There's something about his explanation that makes your heart hurt. He hasn’t been a sorcerer that long yet; and coming from being a normal kid to the world you were born into was probably scarier than you all could understand.

“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it! I just couldn’t really follow the story between that annoying couple smacking the whole time, and I felt like I barely follow anything at all!” you reason with him, but he still has that kicked puppy look on his face.

You sigh with soft empathy before offering him a reassuring smile.

“Hey, Itadori-kun, you know I think I’d like to come back and see it again with you. After we watch the first three movies of course."

He gives you a curious look, his eyebrows raised with disbelief.

“Really?”

You give a cute and short nod. “Mhm! I can’t really give it a fair chance if I haven’t seen the ones leading up to it. Besides, I want to know why Dr. Richter was trying to kidnap the baby H.E.s in the first place? Couldn’t he make more Enhanced H.E.s from the DNA left from the original experiment victim like he did at the beginning of the movie?”

It’s like you open the skies back over him when your words sink in, and he moves so happily, speaks so fully, and it makes you happy to see him simply be happy.

“They explain it so good in the third movie,” he says, unable to hold in his excitement. “I know a great site, it has subtitles and everything, and a special director’s cut at the end of the second movie.”

You laugh. “Sounds good!”

“We should pick up some more snacks; the original is actually pretty long,” he warns and starts to lead you towards the convenience store. Your smile only breaks when you feel the tug on your arm and look down to notice his hand still fastened around yours.

You freeze, feeling your face warm a bit when you realize he’s probably been holding it since before you left the theater. This makes him pause and turn towards you.

Softly, he calls your name and asks if you’re okay, making you drop your head bashfully.

“Oh, it’s nothing really but you’re still holding my hand,” you point out.

Itadori looks down between the two of you and confirms that his fingers are still locked with yours, a comfortable fit.

“Huh, oh, I guess I am,” he states matter-of-factly before he blushes. “Oh, it’s probably all gross and oily right? Yuck.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not actually,” you correct, making no move to force him to let go because you honestly don’t want him to stop this good feeling pouring from him into you through the simple act.

Your soft expression makes his cheeks warm for a different reason this time.

“Oh, well, w-we should probably hurry,” he stammers out, and your hand tightens around his hand just a little bit more as you agree and find the closest convenience store to prepare for your first movie night.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Nobara stops outside the convenience store, hand to the glass as she stalks back and forth, trying to catch glimpses down the aisle.

She could have sworn she just saw the two of you walk in from the other side of the street, and she was going to come to say hi – partially to ask how the movie went and partially to make Itadori carry her shopping bags if the two of you were done – that was before she noticed how close the two of you looked.

Weirdly close.

When she finally catches you in the foggy glass, hand in hand, looking at the mini gacha inside the store, she gasps and quickly shuffles her bags around in search of her phone.

Kugisaki quickly scrolls through her contacts, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for the line to pick up.

“Fushiguro get here quick,” she harshly whispers into the device.

There’s a lazy voice on the other end asking what she wants, and she vaguely explains the situation to be met with resistance.

“Well then have Ijichi drop you off again! What do you mean ‘No’?" she growls. "Shut up and listen to me. They just went into 7/11. Ugh. Fine, fine, I’m sending you some pictures,” she argues.

Kugisaki quickly starts to snap some pictures through the glass and frantically sends them off before bringing the phone back to her ear.

“That’s what I’m saying so hurry up and get here! Yes, it’s like that!”

#itadori x reader #yuji x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #yuuji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji fluff #itadori fluff #gender neutral reader #tbh i love horror movies and wouldve honestly went with him #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori yuuji

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plantsjustwannahavefun · 10 months

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I still can’t get over that we got to see this.

GIFs taken from https://www.tumblr.com/flowergrenades/724087820292112384/oh-yes-its-working

The moment he broke into that smile, my first thought was how much he looks like the Doctor here. Because Crowley doesn’t smile like that. We’ve never seen him smile like that: with such pure, radiant, uninhibited joy and awe. Not as himself. The first scene of this season was so impactful because we saw what Crowley was like as an angel, just how adorable and pure he was, full of overflowing love and affection for all of creation… and how much of a contrast it was to Crowley as a demon – jaded, weary, guarded, hiding behind his dark glasses and a grumpy, sardonic demeanour.

But this smile. It’s dazzling. There’s not a trace of irony or snark or sneering amusement, nothing of the sort. He’s just happy. Yes, it’s one of those “pictures taken seconds before a disaster” moments, but he doesn’t know it yet. Right now, he’s watching two humans about to fall in love. Knowing it was him who made it happen. Him, a demon, putting just a little bit more love into this world. And this makes him so happy.

Everything about the way this shot is framed is so intimate, and vulnerable, and powerful. He’s resting his forehead against the window, with his glasses off, and his face is right in front of us, the viewers. It almost feels like intruding on a private moment… because it is. He’s only smiling like that because no one’s looking at him. He wouldn’t do it in front of anyone else. Not even Aziraphale, I think.

But imagine if Aziraphale had been there to see it. He would have perished and discorporated on the spot. He’d have fallen in love with him right there and then, if he hadn’t already fallen in love with him many times over.

I don’t give a fuck if they kiss in S3, I can take it or leave it. The only thing I want is for Crowley to smile at his angel like that. And for Aziraphale to see it.

#haven't seen anyone talk about this yet #so i guess it had to be me #someone had to #because #look at him 🥺🥺#he's precious #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 spoilers #crowley

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cockaiine · 2 months

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talk baby !! ft. t.fushiguro

you help a girl find her mom while at a picnic... and it sparks something inside toji he was hoping not to feel.

ɞ⁺ contains: toji x fem!reader, just fluff, toji suggests sex, baby talk, reader wants a baby, toji slaps reader's ass (loving)

ɞ⁺ w.c: 1k

toji stands a few steps behind you, just silently watching over you. he’s not fully sure what’s going on, but he’s content just to watch.

“she lost her mom,” you take slow steps toward him, the weeping girl’s hand in your own.

“just keep her with the security,” he shrugs and signals with his chin to the security lady a few feet away, broad shoulders dropping carelessly. “what can you do anyway?

“I can’t do that, toji,” your tone holds scolding to it. he would argue, but it’s too much work. This was supposed to be a quiet picnic for the two of you but some kid had to interrupt it. “i’m going to help her find her mom, okay? you stay here.”

“i’ll come with you,” toji sighs after contemplating it for a second. he doesn’t want to go around looking for a random kid’s parent, but he’ll be damned if he let you go around alone like that. he watched a little too many documentaries of killers using kids as bait to do that.

and so, toji follows you silently. he remains a few feet back just in case.

it’s a heartwarming sight, as much as he hates to admit it; to watch you help a helpless kid out as if she were your own. It sparked something in him, something he couldn’t quite place.

it’s not too long before you find the kid’s mother, who had apparently gone to the bathroom and lost sight of her. but it’s already too late to go back and enjoy the picnic the two of you were having. maybe going on a picnic when it was obviously going to rain was a bad idea.

“what a day,” your black-haired husband grumbled under his breath, slamming the car door. he rarely gets free days like this. “that damn kid.”

you chuckle lightly. even though toji doesn’t know what’s so amusing, he’s content just hearing that sound. your laughter never fails to make him smile—and this time is no different, an irresistible smile crawling into his face.

“it’s not funny,” he mumbles as he starts the car. “ruined our picnic. told ya’ t’just leave her with the security.”

“come on, baby. what if it were our kid in there?”

he glances at you curtly, then focuses back on pulling the car out of the parking lot. you’ve discussed the topic before, but only briefly. toji doesn’t have time for kids. he’s not sure he can raise a whole new human. but the thought of having a kid–a kid with you… he shakes the thought off, opting to not respond to you. his silence is enough answer for you.

once you’re finally home, you quickly change into something more comfortable, relieved to be out of the attire you wore for the ‘picnic’. You settle on the couch next to toji, who is looking for something interesting to watch on tv.

“toji..” you whisper, leaning into him. toji’s arm naturally falls over your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

“yeah?” he hums, not even looking over at you.

“shouldn’t we have a kid, too?”

he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide as if you’ve grown another head. you’re so… straightforward. it’s not like you to be so blatant about your desires.

“huh? what’s this about?” he feigns nonchalance, looking over at the tv.

“come on,” you pull at his shirt, dragging the syllables. “i’m serious. i want to be a mother. i’m sure you wished we had a baby too.”

“that’s… that’s not true,” he lies. you can tell by the pause he had mid-sentence. you almost feel offended by how he’s lying to you as if you don’t know him.

“you’re lying,” you grumble, but he doesn’t respond. your arm extends and abruptly snatches the remote from his hand, pressing the red button to turn off the tv. he’s about to complain when he finds you glaring at him sharply, prompting him to stay silent.

“fine. what brought this up? you never bring this up like this,” he says, referring to your behavior. “didn’t you say you don’t care?”

“i lied,” you speak sorely, “i must have a baby, toji. you can’t take this away from me.”

“‘m not taking shit away from ya,” toji retorts, fixing his position to have a better look at you. “We said we’d wait a few years first, remember? Why are you going back on yer’ words now, eh?”

“god– you’re so ignorant,” you huff. toji stares at your expression changing; there’s a storm about to happen, and he’d like to avoid that. besides, maybe a kid isn’t such a bad idea…

“baby,” he sighs, taking your hands in his own uncharacteristically. “are you sure you want that now? i mean– ‘m barely able to see ya’... isn’t a baby lotsa responsibility? don’t wanna hear ya whinin’ about how ‘you’re never around, toji’, yeah?”

you giggle at the way he mocks your voice, the sweet sound making him smile. he’d say the stupidest things to hear you laugh.

“we can manage that,” you tell him. “i’m sure we’ll get the hang of it by time.” you’re doing your best to convince him, but you have a feeling he’s just playing hard to get.

“babies ain’t some sorta’ experiment, babe,” he jokes but you don’t laugh, assuming he’s serious. “what i’m sayin’ is… are you sure you don’t wanna give it some thought?”

“it’s all i think about,” you mutter, giving him that look. he falters. there’s no way he can say no when you give him that. “please, toji. we already have everything we need. why wait?”

with a huff, toji wraps his arms around your middle and, with brusque movement, he throws you over his shoulder. you gasp at the sudden movement. “are you crazy? toji–! put me down!”

“ya’ wanted a baby,” he chuckles, palm landing a soft slap on your ass. “Think they fall from the sky or some shit? we’re gonna reproduce, baby.”

“you’re such a turn-off,” you say, no longer resisting. He only shrugs in response.

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marvelfilth · 2 months

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Torn (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

Warnings: set during AoA, kryptonian!reader, love triangle, established Natasha x reader - fwb situation, somewhat toxic!Natasha, smut, violence, jealousy

Summary: after your home planet is destroyed, you find a new home in Asgard, but when your brother brings you along to Earth, you find more trouble than you expected.

Masterlist

"F-fuck, Y/n. Right there… Yes." The woman below you pants in your ear, nails scraping down your back to grip your butt possessively.

Your hips move faster, deeper with each thrust, making her moan. "You could've told me you were coming back today," you grunt.

She digs her nails into your skin and you hiss in annoyance, slapping her inner thigh. "Do that one more time and I'm not fucking you for a week."

The spy lets out a throaty laugh that turns into a scream when your thrusts suddenly become harsh and uncoordinated, your hands pressing down her hips. Her tits bounce with each push, her perky nipples begging for attention. You look up to her tear stricken face, enjoying the sight of her reddened cheeks and bleeding lips.

"It was- fuck… u-undercover," she's breathless, stuttering, "... secret," she manages at last, pulling your face down to her breasts, knowing you still have something to say.

You're annoyed and maybe a little bit hurt, but you still let her guide you, eagerly sucking on the tender skin, grazing her nipples with your teeth.

Maybe she'll finally agree to talk to you after.

She comes with a stifled cry, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and gets up as soon as her body stops shaking.

You have a lot of things to say, but your mouth is suddenly too dry and your throat too hoarse, so you sit on the edge of your bed and watch her dress.

"Thank you," she kisses you on the corner of your mouth, lingering, nose nuzzling against yours when she pulls away.

She looks reluctant to leave and you hope she doesn't.

The door clicks shut on her way out.

×××

"No daydreaming on the mission briefings." Clint snaps his fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You blink, eyes refocusing to see everyone staring at you in question.

"What?" You ask, shifting in your seat.

"Stark wants to know if you like your new suit," Natasha asks with a smirk on her face.

You look up at the screen in front of the room and there it is - yet another heavily modified piece of clothing you undoubtedly going to destroy on your next mission.

You can admit it looks better than the previous one, the red is much deeper and the blue is not as obnoxious, but they still clash, not coming together as seamlessly as the one you wore back home, but that's the best Stark can offer and you're thankful he's even trying, so you nod in appreciation and send him a grateful smile.

"Think this one will fall apart mid flight?" Thor teases, reminding you of one of your most embarrassing moments.

It happened when you first joined the team. Tony made you wear a suit he made, claiming it was good to match with the team, so you've listened to make him happy and fit in better. It's a good thing you wore your underwear from Asgard that day.

"Now that it's settled we should move on to the purpose of this briefing," Steve waited until he had everyone's attention before continuing, "now that Thor is finally here we can finally take back the Scepter…" he continues with the details and you easily tune him out, focusing on the redhead woman across from you instead.

The corner of her lip is still quirked up, her eyes trained on Steve as he gestures to the map on the screen behind him. You look down at your hands on the table, fiddling with your thumbs.

You wish you were better at reading humans.

“You okay?” Clint leans into your side to whisper discreetly.

You nod, managing a convincing smile. “Didn't get much sleep is all.”

He glances at Natasha not so subtly, his brows furrowing. You think he's the only one who knows about the two of you, or, at least, he suspects.

“You know what you're doing, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, not knowing at all.

×××

You're hovering over the base, looking through the walls for Scepter, when you first see her.

The girl looks about your age, you think, maybe a little younger, and she is busy talking to a silver haired man. They look too out of place, dressed like high schoolers and unbothered by the attack. You frown when the girl whispers a quiet "take care of the big guy" to the boy, your mouth dropping open in shock when he runs almost fast enough to go unnoticed by you. Almost.

Deciding it's your time to intervene you warn the team before landing in front of the back entrance, eyes trained on the girl behind the door. You don't know what she's capable of and you find yourself intrigued. The door opens with a squeak and you wince, mutterings a curse under your breath.

She's out of sight by the time you enter, but you can still hear her erratic heartbeat.

"Come out," you say, tilting your head to the right. You heard enough to know she's hiding in the shadow.

You hear her gulp before she steps into your field of view, her shoulder grazing yours as she comes to stand in front of you.

She is beautiful, you think, taking note of redness in her pupils.

"You know who we are," you wait for her to nod before continuing, "you can come with me." You offer your hand, palm up, and wait for her to decide.

She scoffs and her eyes turn redder. "What makes you think I want to?" There's red around her fingers now and you find yourself curious to find out what she can do.

You smile. "You will come with us one way or another. I'd prefer not to hurt you."

You realise your mistake as soon as the words leave your mouth.

Suddenly, there's red everywhere and you're out of the building, flying through the door to the other end of the backyard. You feel a pressing weight on your chest, and when you look down you see red wisps enveloping your body, keeping you pinned to the ground.

You look up when a shadow falls on your face.

She crouches with a smirk planted on her smug face, and moves your hair out of your face. "You can come with me," she offers, mirth in her eyes and you let out a breathless laugh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.

"I'm afraid I have to say no," you whisper after a moment, strangely content at the mercy of your enemy.

She hums, waving her hand over you and you feel the weight disappear.

When you open your eyes she's no longer there.

×××

"You just let her go?" Natasha asks later that night, her head nestled on your chest after hours of hiding her moans in a pillow as you pounded into her.

You snort. "She's a witch, Nat, I don't think I can keep up with magic."

She lifts her head to look at you, eyes searching for something you're not even aware of. "You're the fastest person on this planet. Faster than her brother, and certainly faster than her."

You look away, closing your eyes in embarrassment. You didn't even think about your speed when you faced the witch.

You feel her get up from bed, and you open your eyes, reaching for her, "Natasha- " Her eyes flash, and you close your mouth.

She shakes her head. "She distracted you. And you let her go," she huffs and bends down to pick up her panties.

You get up and catch her wrist. "Can you tell me what's going on?" You ask, searching her eyes for an answer, but you're an alien and she's the best spy in the world so you're left even more confused.

She opens her mouth for a split second before snapping it shut. She pulls away and puts on a shirt before finally speaking, "I saw the footage."

You frown.

"Didn't know it only takes a little flirting and a pretty face to make you let an enemy go," she hisses through clenched teeth.

Your mouth drops open in shock.

"Are you-" you let out a breathless chuckle at the mere thought before finally getting yourself together, "are you jealous?"

You can hear her jaw grinding, can hear her nails dig into the soft skin of her palm.

And yet, you still can't believe what she just said.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, Natasha," you say, and a split second later you're dressed and out in the nearby field, searing up towards the sky.

You don't see her falling back into the pillow you layed on mere seconds ago, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

×××

There's a party the next day, and a part of you just wants to hop in your pod and disappear in the depths of space.

Another part of you wants to see Natasha happy and content, basking in the warmth of your arms. You know she'll never allow anyone to know about the two of you, but still, hope blossoms in your chest when you first see her go down the stairs. She moves right past you towards the bar, and you see Banner approach her with a nervous smile. His flirting is awkward and you pity the man, awaiting Natasha's response.

She flirts back.

"So… You and Romanoff?" Steve comes to stand beside you, smiling his fatherly smile, and you fight the urge to run away.

"You should tell her," he presses on, "she's not the most open person in the world, but from what I know about her, I think… there's a good chance for the two of you to be happy."

You've told her.

She doesn't like you back.

You shoot him a quick, awkward smile. "I'll think about it."

He nods, satisfied and walks up to the pair, his eyes widening when he overhears the last bit of their conversation. He winces and looks back at you, knowing you probably heard it all by now.

You shake your head at the concerned look he sends your way, and walk to sit on the couch, closing your eyes for a moment, letting your hearing go wild, listening in on an argument on the other side of the city, anything to remove yourself from this situation. The argument doesn't last too long, the engaged pair making up not even ten minutes later and you move your attention back to the party.

When you open your eyes Thor is sitting beside you, daring Clint to pick up his hammer. You sit up straighter, curious to see where it might go.

"Everyone knows it's some kind of a trick." His fingers wrap around the handle, but the hammer doesn't move an inch, much to the archers embarrassment.

Tony appears seemingly out of nowhere to make fun of Barton and you join in on the laughter, enjoying the rare moment of happiness, momentarily forgetting about your not so fun predicament.

Thor winks at you, enjoying this way more than he probably should, and hands you a bottle of Asgardian beer.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Natasha join your little game, Steve hot on her heels. She looks a little out of place, eyes laced with uncertainty when she sees an empty spot by your side. With a slight push from Steve she sits, careful not to touch you.

Banner is left standing a few feet away.

"It's simple physics," Tony grins, attempting to lift the weapon. His eyes narrow when it stays in its spot.

You rub your eyes when he decides to embarrass himself even further, calling Rhodes for backup and putting on his suit. The ridiculous game goes on, and Steve decides to try, you don't bother to watch, but then you hear metal scraping against the fine wood of the coffee table. Your head snaps up to look at Thor and immediately you know he heard it too, his eyes going comically wide for a split second before closing in relief when Steve doesn't pull harder, letting the hammer stay in its place.

"Natasha?" Banner nudges the redhead.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your bear. You want to go and finish the drink in the solitary of your room, maybe let out a few tears, but you promised Thor you'd stay until the very end, knowing he's set to leave in a few short days.

"I don't want to know the answer to that question," she says before taking a sip of her beer.

"Y/n?" Thor invites you to try, but you shake your head no, an excuse already on your tongue when you first hear it.

The screeching is loud enough to hurt humans, but to your enhanced hearing it's pure torture. You fall to the floor, covering your ears, letting out a silent cry and Natasha is by your side immediately, pressing you into her side, trying to ground your hearing. You hiss in pain, your head feels like it's being slit open, and you think Natasha is saying something, but you can't focus on a single thing.

The next second you feel her lips against yours and the sound is gone, replaced by Natashas frantic heartbeat.

"Focus on me, baby, come on," Natasha whispers against your lips, words barely audible. You nod, trying to regain your senses.

Her kisses move lower to your chin, then to your jaw, her fingers skimping under the hem of your shirt, setting the skin of your lower stomach on fire.

"Stay with me, baby," she mumbles in your ear.

There's a fight going on around you, robots flying around destroying everything in sight, but the only thing you see is Natasha's glistening eyes as she pulls away to check on you.

Then she's pulling you up and out of the room, narrowly missing a piece of metal flying her way, your eyes flicker around and you stop in your tracks, ready to join the fight and end it in seconds, but then there's a tug on your hand.

"They'll handle it. Let me take care of you."

You nod, feeling hope blossom in your chest.

Maybe Steve's right.

×××

They handled it and now you're off to Africa, getting ready to fight a villainous robot made of vibranium. The jet is weirdly silent - Tony's sulking in the corner, unusually quiet, Steve stares him down from his seat, jaw grinding in annoyance and you wonder what happened after Natasha led you to her room. You tried to pry away, ready to run back and join on the planning, but she didn't budge, staring you down until you relented and fell against the sheets, her fingers making quick works of your belt buckle.

Now though, she's back to acting like she doesn't care, her eyes trained on the skyline and you can't even pretend you aren't hurt.

"We are close," you warn the team, already searching for the target. Your eyes lock on the pair talking to Ultron. "The twins are there, on the second floor, talking to Ultron. We need to hurry."

Natasha looks at you for the first time since you boarded the jet. "Stay away from the witch. We'll handle her."

You scoff at her tone, mildly pissed at her bossing you around. "You're ordering me around now?" you force through gritted teeth.

Her eyes narrow and she looks like she wants to say more, but Tony pushes her out of the way to jump out of the jet, Thor and Steve following right behind him, and she's left glaring daggers at your back as you hurry along.

You look for the witch the moment you land.

She's easy to find, hiding in the shadows, waiting for a perfect moment to strike, while her brother runs around wrecking havoc.

"Little witch," you call out, startling her enough to make her jump up.

Her eyes flash in annoyance, but the second she sees it's you her lips stretch in a one sided smile. "I have a name, you know."

You nod, your lips stretching into a full blown grin. You remember how your last conversation ended, but you don't care much about the possibility of her hurting you.

"I won't," she says, like she just read your mind.

You suppose she might have, she is a witch after all.

She shakes her head, letting out a huff of laughter, "There's a lot of things I can do," her eyes flash dangerously, her smile now with a hint of malice, "make sure not to cross me." She winks and turns just in time to step out of her brother's way.

You blink, cursing yourself for getting so distracted again, and dart after her brother. It is an easy ordeal, and mere seconds later you have him pinned to the ground.

"You really should let me go," he grunts against the concrete, wiggling against your hold.

"I am an alien, not an idiot," you scoff, easing your hold on him just a little.

He stills for a moment, craning his neck to take a look at you, "An alien?"

His eyes are full of wonder, and suddenly you're reminded that the two of them are young, the same age you were when you first stepped foot on Earth.

You sigh, looking around for a cage of some sort or a piece of metal to bend around the runner.

"Why are you helping them?" He asks, wonder replaced by anger. "Do you know what he did?"

There it is. An old basement with a bulletproof door.

"Making a bomb and launching it at civilians are two very different things, you know?" You quip and his eyes flash in indignation, but before he can start his rant you push him inside, locking the door and bending the metal for a good measure.

"He did some shitty things in the past, but at least he never joined the Nazis."

You walk away, painfully aware of the truth in your words. Now that you've said it out loud you're faced with the fact that the witch you've grown to like just after two short interactions is not a good person.

Shaking your head you make your way up, one down, two to go. You squint in the dark, trying to spot Ultron, but he's nowhere to be found and neither is Tony, so you mentally brace yourself to face the witch again, but the second you step on the landing you see Thor's slumped form.

"Hey!" You shake his shoulders and slap his face for good measure and his eyes open. He's blinking rapidly, like he just woke up from a long nap, his eyes glossed over.

"Y/n!" He whispers feverishly, and pulls you in a bone crushing hug. "You're okay, of course you're okay. That witch. She warped my mind," he pants, pushing you away, "You need to make sure everyone else is okay."

You look him over, and once you're sure he's not hurt you nod, pulling him up to his feet, and take off in the direction of Natasha's heartbeat.

You stop in your tracks as soon as your eyes fall on the trembling woman. Tears stream down her face, but her eyes are focused on the floor, unblinking. She doesn't move when Clint presses her into his side, doesn't flinch when he hauls her up to her feet, but when her eyes register you she jumps as if burned, clutching at Clint.

You take a step closer, your own eyes watering, but she looks like she might throw up if you move any closer.

Clint sends you a look and shakes his head, mouthing, "I've got her."

She limps past you, shaking so violently you're sure even a human can notice.

They move past you and suddenly all you see is red.

Moving faster than the speed of light you have the witch pressed against the wall, her fingers clutched in your vice grip.

She looks up, her eyes wide and terrified.

Good, you think.

"What did you do to her?" You growl in her face, pushing her into the wall with your whole body.

No way you'll let her escape this time.

Her throat constricts. "I- Her biggest fear. I showed her her biggest fear." She sinks her body against the wall, trying to wrangle her hands out of your grip. Her heart is thrumming violently and you can't tell if the tiny skip of a beat is a result of her fear or her lie.

"She'll be fine in a few hours, I swear." Her eyes lock with yours, so unbelievably green, and you feel yourself slipping away. "Just let me go," she asks, pushing her body forwards, her fingers slipping away from your hold. Her face tilts forward until your lips are almost touching. “Let me go,” she whispers. You don't see the wisps of her magic swirl around her fingers, too focused on the way her lips move. Too many thoughts swarm your brain, but you find yourself focusing on one. You want her to close the gap.

"That's right, you want me to kiss you." Her lips almost brush against yours in a gentle peck. Your grip on her weakens completely and you're enveloped in her arms. Suddenly, she's everywhere. In your arms, in your head, in your heart. "I'm sorry about this," she whispers before pushing you off the ledge.

There's red everywhere and you find yourself falling and falling…

…and falling until your back hits the ground with a painful thud.

"Y/n! Get up. Come on." Your father helps you up, tilting your head to check the injury, but you can't focus on his face, all you can see is purple.

The planet under your feet rumbles, splitting open yet again, making your father forget about tending to your bloodied forehead in favor of hauling you up over his shoulder.

"No." You push against his shoulders when you finally realize where he's taking you. "No! I'm staying with you," you cry out, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

The sight in front of you is a nightmare. A sick, deranged nightmare. You can see the man responsible for this hold up the purple stone higher in the air, another powerful wave destroying everything in its wake.

"We have to fight, dad! We have to stop him! What about mom?!" You scream until your throat hurts, but your father doesn't budge, pushing you through double doors leading to the pods.

"We will fight," he promises, putting you down. "But you… you're destined for greatness, my child. You can't die fighting a losing battle." He places a kiss on your temple, pushing a syringe into your side.

You stare at him in betrayal, fighting against him with all your might, but your limbs get too heavy and your eyes start closing on their own.

You're pushed in the pod and your father types coordinates for Asgard. "They'll treat you as their own," he chokes, trying to fight tears, "I love you, my sweet girl."

"Y/n!"

You sit up, gasping for breath, eyes darting around the room.

"Y/n, a little help!"

Tony's voice sounds from your comms and you shudder.

"I can't-" you sob, looking around you, searching for the witch, but she's long gone, and all you can do is sit in the dark and hope someone will come and get you.

"I don't know what you saw there, kid, but our green friend might chew me up any second now. I really need you," he pleads.

Your hands shake and your legs tremble as you stand up, forcing the memory to the back of your mind. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall and tear through the roof, unaware of a pair of eyes watching you leave.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #black widow x reader

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denimbex1986 · 6 months

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'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

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evilminji · 4 months

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Dani should Kidnap The Clones.

It's basicly protective custody. Preemptive child services, if you will. NONE of these fuckers out here makin adorable clone baby just cause they want kids!

*kicks down the door to your shady lab* Knock Knock! ITS THE POLICE! *Walker's Shock troopers swarm the place as Dani secures the kids*

Look me in the eyes. You KNOW he'd love an excuse to enforce The Rules on people technically outside his jurisdiction. It's for The Children(tm)! Why, he simply had no CHOICE!

Meanwhile? Dani is shoving all these mal-adjusted Murder Clones into her Lair? Which is? Basicly a Door style Lair she hid inside Danny's Lair for safe keeping. It's shoved behind a vending machine just outside the observatory. And the inside? Goes on for DAYS.

Like national parks and every beautiful beach she ever came across. She smashed together the BEST sights and places she's found in her travels, like a collection. Always adding more. New waterfalls, new noodle shops, new fields of wine grapes. It's... beautiful. Snapshots of every wonderous little thing about Earth, stitched together.

They can't hurt anyone. Can't achieve their "objectives". Are just treated like actual individuals and the children they truely are. Are surrounded by other Clones. So it's NORMAL here. Just? All of it.

But also?

Dani and Dan? Teaming up to make History's Scariest Adoption Agency(TM). Dan runs it. Dan wants to know why EXACTLY you want a kid. Explain yourself to Dan. What are your references? Qualifications. He's doing a home visit to inspect the premises. He BETTER not find any suspicious Labs.

And? It just? Appears out of nowhere. It's powered by Zone Bullshit. One second you're thinking "oh woe is me D:> I will never have a child to fill my lovely home, because of all my Superhero Secrets and also because government bureaucracy!" And the next?

.....wasn't that an out of business taco bell? "Zone Adoptions"?

"....Free Clone Baby?"

Okay that is HIGHLY suspicious and as a hero you are basicly legally obligated to investigate. But now it's bigger on the inside? Fancy waiting room? You are being interrogated? Wait, no, you're supposed to be the one doing the-?

Somehow? You leave with your Clone Son from another Dimension. And a pamphlet. You're scheduled for a home visit in three days. You... you never told them where you live.

Somehow that doesn't seem like it will slow them down.

Did the Fae just Suprise Baby you with a clone baby? Can they DO that? W... what's happening? What days is this? Who ARE YOU PEOPLE?! HUH!?!?

Just? Imagine. IMAGINE. I was gonna say Bruce... but?

Damian.

He finds himself... pondering What Could Have Been. Had his Clones not wanted him dead. Wondering if he could have saved them. If, perhaps, he had found them as infants. Raised them. Could he have given them a good life? Been a good father?

He gets emotional. Fatherly. He's about 14.

Dan's been around Ghosts too long to remember how humans age or how age relates to development. This one TALKS like An Adult. Must be one. Probably just short.

And Damian? Never backs down. The second Dan starts challenging him? His character is flawless and his morals divine. He has never done anything wrong, ever, in his LIFE. Fuck you. And on TOP of that? He not only will be the SINGLE GREATEST FATHER TO EVER FATHER, his home is the most loving and beloved ON THE PLANET!

In entirety of EARTH'S history, no less!

....what are they arguing about?

*is handed a baby and kicked out of Dan's adoption agency*

See you in a few days!

(o.o ) *happy gurgling from the baby* *Damian.exe has stopped working*

Smash cut, after Damian speed runs his stages of grief at his own Dumbass Life Choices, to his rocking back up at the Manor like? Congratulations, Father. I have brought you your first grandson! Do Not ask how I obtained him. It was likely dubiously legal but I will not be returning him. We have bonded.

And just? Annihilating the collective Bats on one go. You did what? You have What?! That is a baby! WHY IS THERE A BABY?! How is there a baby!? WHOS BABY!? *sirens going off and everyone panicking*

Will Damian be allowed to KEEP the Baby? Ha! Hell no. Bruce will. Damian is a child. But it will be a Needlessly Dramatic Bat Cold War Of Dramatic Drama to pry that small cherubic baby from his grip long enough for Bruce to fill out the paperwork.

Child thieving bastard that he is. How dare he. That is Damian's SON! D:<

*happy oblivious baby noises as Alfred feeds him in the background, while the Bats do their Dramatic Custody War*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #minji's writing

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norrisleclercf1 · 23 days

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Siren Eyes

Pairing: Siren!Lando Norris x Human Reader x Werewolf Oscar \

PART 1 OF 2

Rating: R

Words: 7.5K

Warnings: Angst, hating one self, panic/anxiety attacks, also kinda made Daniel a villain but don't worry

Synopsis: Lando's excited about his new teammate, until this new teammate has him losing control

A/N: woah, the love for this fic I have is insane, honestly I couldn't be prouder of myself for writing this

Lando wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and sleep; instead, he was sitting in a stupid meeting, learning about his new teammate. "He's a werewolf, but very calm and keeps to himself, so I think that's perfect for you after...Daniel." Lando sighed, closing his eyes as he remembered what happened when Daniel learned the truth about Lando. The way he felt unsafe, and the team dealt with it swiftly. He'll always be grateful as McLaren has been the only team to openly not oppose what Lando is. He's forever thankful. "He does have a girlfriend; from what we know, they're rather private; she's a human, sweet girl," Zak adds, and Lando nods.

"And, does he know?" Zak's response was a gentle shake of the head, and Lando's understanding was clear in his nod. Oscar remained unaware of Lando's true nature, a decision that Lando believed was in their mutual best interest. "Now, he'll be here in a few days to join us for promotions, pictures, and all the boring stuff you hate. But he's a sweet kid; don't put him at arm's distance, okay?" Lando sighs, looking out of the large windows and staring at the green plains of Woking. "Yeah, alright."

The meeting ends; Zak hangs back, Lando making no attempt to stand, much less leave, as he stares at the picture of Oscar smiling. "He's a good kid; I don't think he'll care what you are, Lando. He's from Australia. They're the first real country to be open to the idea of," "Sirens? That's because they're Australian, surrounded by water, and have a fairly large population." Lando huffs and looks up, taking in the statistics. "He's going to give me hell, isn't he?" Zak snorts and leans on his chair, folding his hands. "Yes,"

Lando sits up and takes off his sunglasses, his sea-green eyes sparkling in the sun; with a smirk, Lando leans back, staring at the picture. "Bring it on,"

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

Oscar groans when he feels pressure on his chest. He knows what the weight is, and honestly, he wishes it was a different kind of weight. Slowly blinking, he comes face to face with Mr. Orange, your cat. He hoped it was you sitting on his chest. Instead, it's the damn cat. When you started dating, he clarified that he was a werewolf; you just rolled your eyes and didn't care. Being human and dating a supernatural wasn't uncommon but not overly popular.

When you made it clear you had a cat, Oscar groaned loudly; cats and he didn't mix well. But since he started staying over, Mr. Orange, this old, grumpy, fluff ball of an orange cat, has not left his side. The cat actually prefers Oscar over you. Oscar would never admit it, but he grew close to the cat and started getting used to its weight, which he wakes up to. "Morning, Mr. Orange," The cat just blinks at Oscar, purring slightly when Oscar scratches behind his ear.

"Oscar, phone call," You don't have to yell; he can hear you clearly as he groans and buries his head in the pillow, wanting to hide from the world. "Who is it?" He yells, and your sweet giggle has him smiling. "Zak Brown?" Oscar jumps up, Mr. Orange voicing his displeasure at losing his pillow, running down the stairs, Oscar following. "Seriously?" You giggle, holding the phone, and nod; grabbing it, he places it on his ear.

"Mr. Brown, hi." You snicker, and Oscar waves you off, slapping your ass which has you running to the kitchen. "Oscar, good morning; I hope I didn't wake you," Zak jokes, as it is well-known how much Oscar loved his sleep. "No sir, actually just got done with training." You snort a laugh, and Oscar glares at you in the doorway. You stick your tongue and slowly start to raise the shirt that you're wearing. Oscar sucks in a breath and cuts you a look that says to knock it off.

Smiling, you turn back to cooking and groan, having to reach something, the edge of the shirt rising, and Oscar about loses it there; you weren't wearing any underwear. Your perfect ass was on full display. "Oscar? Oscar?!" Oscar shakes his head and turns away, trying to ignore his blood rushing south. "Yes, sir, I'm thrilled to have joined the team and to work with Lando." Zak sighed. He was glad to hear that, and Oscar was proud of his media training.

He wasn't lying. He was excited to work with McLaren and Lando but couldn't help but be a little weary, sensing they were keeping something from him. "Um, Mr. Brown," "Please call me Zak," "Okay, um, Zak," Oscar rubs the back of his neck, unsure how to approach the topic. "There isn't anything you're hiding, is there? I mean, about the team, I figured I'd have already met Lando properly," Oscar, with his excellent hearing, can hear how Zak stops breathing for a second before letting out a nervous chuckle.

"Lando is just, well Lando. , you'll meet him properly in Woking. I hope that isn't an issue. That way, we'll talk in person. It's easier to explain." Oscar jumps when cold hands touch his warm skin. Calming down, Oscar covers your hands with just one of his and smiles, feeling your body push into his back. Oscar smiles when he feels your hand travel down and gently slide past the waist of his boxers. "Yes, Zak, that's perfectly fine." Oscar bites the inside of his cheek, feeling your hand grab his cock and start to slowly move up and down, and you place butterfly kisses on his back and shoulders.

"I'm glad, and also, Oscar?" Oscar pulls the phone away, letting out a low groan, and then pressing the phone back to his ear. "Yes?" "Congratulations on becoming a Formula 1 Driver." "Thank you," Oscar hangs up the phone; taking your hand out, he spins and leans against the counter. "What are you doing?" He groans as you slowly sink to your knees and giggle. "About to blow my gorgeous, talented Formula 1 driver boyfriend." You comment, pull his boxers down, and lick your lips.

"Yeah?" He asks, fingers cupping your cheek. You lean up and lick from his balls to his tip, sucking it, and he throws his head back. Pulling off, you smile up at him. "Yeah, he just a got a Formula 1 seat and a future World Champ; think that allows a blowjob, don't you?" Oscar groans low in his throat. It's almost a growl, "Fuck, yes." You smirked and placed a kiss on his hip as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the way your mouth felt on him.

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

Lando lays his head on the conference room table, sunglasses on and hood over his head, taking slow, deep breaths. It's odd, but he used to ask Carlos what it was like to smell and hear everything within a mile. Carlos would chuckle and ruffle his hair.

"I can choose to turn it on and off, muppet." Lando would blush and crave Carlos's touch. Carlos was never afraid of Lando, as Carlos and Lando had a different love that was pure and based on brotherly love. With Daniel, he acted like he was okay with Lando being a siren when, really, he kept Lando at arm's length. It hurt; it made him miss Carlos. He would always slink off and sit with Carlos and Charles.

It helped that they weren't attracted to Lando, so his powers and eyes would not affect them. Charles was a vampire, so he understood people's avoiding him and helped Lando hide his supernatural marks. Lando would be forever grateful when Carlos and Charles took him to a shop for vampires. It had contact lenses that could match his eye color; they were enchanted, so whenever he wore them, people could look at him in the eyes and not know he was a siren.

Lando was wearing them now, but he was still careful. He would lie if he said he was relaxed about meeting Oscar. Oscar, a werewolf, was this extraordinary talent and probably came in and dethroned him as McLaren's golden boy. The door opens, and Lando groans, tightening his arms around his head. "You're early," Lando looks up at the dark outline of Adrea Stella, the Team Principal of McLaren.

"You said to be here at 7. It's only 6:45." Lando whispers, looking at the giant clock on the wall. "Still," Andrea grumbles and starts lying out files. He smacks Lando gently on the head with his. "He's a good kid, won't be like," "I don't want him to know at all. The only people on the grid who know are Charles, Carlos, Max, and Daniel. But I don't think he'll say anything." Lando whispers; Andrea nods his head but is still worried about Lando.

Everyone starts to float in, Lando sliding off his glasses and hood and ruffling his hair as time passes. "He does know where MTC is, right?" Lando asks, earning a couple of chuckles as Zak sighs and gives him a look. "What? He's about 15 minutes late." Lando defends himself, raising his hands. The door opens, and this boy with pale, perfect skin, round brown eyes, and soft, messy hair tumbles in. He is wearing an all-black outfit and smiles softly. Lando can tell immediately that this is Oscar, who was smaller when they last met, and now he is a buffer.

"Oscar, welcome." Zak and Andrea stand, as does everyone else, but Lando is stilln't too shocked by Oscar's beauty. If anyone didn't know Oscar was a werewolf, they'd think he was the Siren with his perfect lips and stunning smile. "Hey, sorry I'm late, I overslept." Oscar mumbles, his cheeks a dusty pink, and Lando licks his lips. He can feel the tug in his chest and clears his throat, shaking off the twitch in his powers.

Oscar makes his way around; Lando stands clumsily and holds out his hand when Oscar gets to him. "Hey, Oscar," Lando smiles brightly. "Yeah, I know, Lando. But you know that already," Lando and Oscar still shake hands until Zak clears his throat, making the two slowly stop and drop their hands. Lando grows cold again, missing the warmth that was tickling up his arm. "Well, why don't we start. Oscar moves around Lando, sits down in front of Lando, and watches the screen. Lando sits down slowly, unable to stop his eyes trailing to the back of Oscar's head.

Lando twitches when he hears a soft vibrating noise. Oscar slowly looks around and slips his hand into the pocket of his black jacket. Pulling it out, he smiles. Lando hates how his skin crawls; that smile is so sweet and soft that he remembers hearing Oscar have a girlfriend. Oscar's fingers move, typing a quick reply before pocketing his phone. Oscar slowly raises his hand, and Lando can't help but think how cute he is.

"Yes, Oscar?" Andrea calls, the lights flicking on, Lando blinks his eyes fast, but Oscar, with near-perfect eyes for a werewolf, doesn't even budge. "When you called me, it sounded like you were hiding something about the team; what is it?" Lando goes so fucking still he's sure Oscar would clock the fact he even stopped breathing. Oscar doesn't show awareness, staring hard at Zak and Andrea, who keep sharing looks.

"There's an issue with the car, and we won't be able to fix it until Austria....it will be a hard start of the season," Andrea admits, and Lando sighs. Oscar nods, satisfied with the answer. "How bad are the issues?" He presses, and Lando is proud that the little rookie isn't afraid to ask the hard questions. "That's a good question. Will we look good in pre-season testing or be a laughing stock?" Lando asks, leaning back. Oscar casts a glance but quickly looks back at Zak and Andrea.

"With the data, we're looking at being dead last; we'll most definitely be lapped and a possible DNF, maybe even for both cars," Andrea admits; Oscar finally looks at Lando, who is just leaning back in his chair with a slight smirk. "I like a challenge, do you Osc?" Oscar looks away, and Lando chuckles, seeing the slight blush on his pretty, pale skin. Lando can't help but wish he could make Oscar blush that prettily again. "Yeah," Oscar clears his throat and sits up straight. "I like a challenge."

Zak and Andrea stare at each other before smiling at one another. "Perfect,"

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

"Hey mate," Lando jumps so far out of his skin that he fears he'll never get it back. Turning, he glares at Max, who sits on his couch with Petra, watching some trashy show. "How.." "We have a key for emergencies," Petra smiles, and Lando can't even argue, as he's grateful for his friends. "How was the meeting?" Max asks, sitting up slowly and looking over Lando. Max was one of Lando's best friends and the only one who never cared that he was a siren. Max was human and loved him; he didn't care if Lando was different; Lando was his brother.

"It was fine," Lando looks away, trying to hide his blush as he hangs up his jacket, still wearing his sweatshirt. Petra and Max share a look, and both smirk, "Just fine?" She drawls out, biting the inside of his cheek; Lando glances at them sideways and moves to the kitchen. Petra is right before him, moving faster than light, giggling. "Stupid vampire speed," Lando grumbles as he faces Max, smugly looking his best friend up and down. "Does the bay have a crush?" His teasing tone has Lando pout, dragging himself to the couch.

"He's cute," Lando drawls out the 'e,' his head thrown back and eyes closed. He pictures Oscar smiling at him as they leave the factory. "Lando, he is aware, yes?" Petra asks, crawling onto the couch, sitting on his other side, and pressing herself into his side. Lando's head flops and lands on her shoulder; Max's weight leaves the couch as he heads to the kitchen, probably to get Lando's favorite Jon-approved snacks. "Petra, why'd he have to be cute," Lando whines, Max comes back, dumping the bags on the couch, and Lando happily digs into them.

"Mate, it's okay that he's cute. You learned to control your powers with Carlos, and Daniel was the real test," Max says as he sits on Lando's other side, the couple cuddling their friend. "Carlos, I just idolized him; he's my big brother and Daniel," Lando sighs; they had a challenging relationship initially, not really liking each other. But, as the year went on, and into the second year as teammates, Daniel had found out and didn't take it well. Daniel raised concerns with the team, and the team lashed him for saying Lando was only doing better cause he was using his powers.

Lando was hurt, hurt that someone, yet again, was using what he was against him. Daniel even threatened to go to the FIA. He intended to report that Lando was a siren and used his powers to get ahead. The team shut it down immediately, and Daniel lost his seat. It was very tense, with some static between them, but it was improving. Daniel has apologized for what he did, and Lando accepted it, but that didn't mean things could return to how they were.

"We know, buddy," Max whispers, playing with Lando's hair. Groaning loudly, Lando hides his face on a pillow. "He even has a girlfriend, which isn't a shocker; he's cute, funny, has great dry humor, and just....perfect." With Petra covering her mouth, Lando gushes, trying not to giggle at her friend's expense. "Well, maybe that's a good thing, him having a girlfriend, mate. You can remember that when your....song gets out of hand." Lando looks at him, confused.

"Song? I don't know what triggers my powers, much less causes me to use them. I barely know anything about what I am. My parents are human, and I'm the freak of nature." Lando snaps, Max cringes and Petra sighs, knowing it wasn't fair to Lando. Being a siren in a family that was forever thought to be human, only to find out, was far from the truth. They try their best for Lando; Cisca and Adam are always there for him, but they don't understand, and there isn't much lore about sirens. All people knew were from the Odyssey, which didn't give them a good reputation. That's the only piece of work on sirens, and anytime someone heard the word Siren, they ran.

"We're still looking; we'll find something, Lando, we promise," Max whispers, pulling his friend close and kissing the top of his head.

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

Oscar holds his arms out as you run at him, squealing loudly. He chuckles, happily catching you, spinning you around, and you wrap your legs around his waist. "How was it? Was it everything you dreamed? I'm sure it was!" You rapid fire at him; Oscar laughs, carrying you deeper into the apartment and placing you on the counter so he is at eye level with you. "It was good, but we're going to be struggling hard until Austria, but that's okay. People won't expect much from me, and I can just chill and learn the teamwork and all that." Oscar kisses the tip of your nose, still wearing what he left you this morning. His shirt, and only his shirt.

"Well, that's good, and Lando?" You ask softly, watching Oscar's reaction, a slight blush, and you start to smile. "Knew it, I knew you'd find him attractive." You giggle, and Oscar sighs, resting his forehead on your shoulder. "Y/n," Oscar groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, squeezing slightly. "He is beautiful and has such pretty eyes." Oscar snorts, "Yeah, but we wear those stupid vampire contacts." Cocking your head to the side, you hum. "I didn't know he's a vampire; that explains why he's so good-looking." Oscar shakes his head.

"No, he's not a vampire. He didn't smell like iron and earth. He....smelled like the sea, but that's probably because he lives in Monaco. He's not human, but it's not my place, and the team seems to ignore it, so I should, too." You move your fingers through his hair and tug softly. "Hey, I'm sure he'd tell you when he's ready," You knew this was bothering Oscar more than he'd let on. The team hid more than the car's status; they seemed nervous when Oscar asked about the earlier conversation and how Lando stopped breathing.

It worried Oscar. Initially, he was going to ask about Lando's status. Still, he knew how everyone reacted, so he avoided that conversation and quickly changed it to the car. Lando started to breathe again, which calmed Oscar down; he didn't like upsetting the older Brit. It spiked Oscar's own anxiety when he felt Lando go still and stop breathing. It took everything in Oscar to not reach over and palce a hand on his knee. It was a reflex he did with you when you got nervous and felt that same protectiveness wrap around his heart.

"Yeah, maybe; I'm hoping we're teammates for a long time," Oscar mumbles, fingers digging into your hips, taking a deep breath, smelling your shampoo and favorite lotion. "I hope you two are teammates for a long time, too." You whisper, rubbing between his shoulders, feeling the tension get released. "I'm sure everything will work out," Oscar nods, "Can we take a nap," Right on queue, Mr. Orange appears, meowing softly and rubbing his head at Oscar's ankles. "Of course," Oscar lifts you up, carrying you with ease, as you two walk down the small steps into the open space and fall onto the fluffy bed.

Oscar and you giggle, letting the sun glow softly on your skin, leaving soft kisses and words as you two sleep.

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

Lando wanted to scream and rip his driver's room apart. He'd felt anger before, but this rage was unexplainable. It was hot, burning liquid in his throat. Something inside him was clawing at his throat. He knew it was something evil, and he was terrified. His driver's room door was closed, locked to protect anyone from him.

A knock at the door rigidifies his body, and the knock is soft again. "Lando, are you okay?" Lando covers his mouth, feeling that darkness in him claw his way out. Oscar's sweet voice makes him whimper, and he hates that he made a sound; Oscar could hear it. "Lando, are you okay?" Oscar's voice sounds slightly panicky, his door handle wobbling under the pressure of Oscar's grip.

"Oscar, go away," The jingling stops, feet walk away, and Lando whimpers, feeling the bile in his throat. Fuck, he had used his powers on Oscar. Lando hated this feeling; when his emotions got out of control, he felt something clawing at him, ripping him from the inside out. And he couldn't run away, couldn't leave. He needed to be here for the team.

The door handle wobbles again, Lando curling in on himself, stopping himself from yelling. To prevent the darkness in him from escaping, the door creaks, and suddenly, it's open. "Mon cheri," the velvet French calms his heart, mewling practically as two more bodies fill the room, the door closing. Shhhh, it's okay. Deep breaths, Carlos, come here." Lando doesn't open his eyes, instantly feeling the warmth.

Gasping out, Lando sobs, burying himself into the warm chest of Carlos. Carlos whispers soft Spanish in his ear, Charles murmuring in French. Something cold touches his skin, causing him to hiss before the familiar hand on his neck. "You're okay, Lando, we've got you," Max whispers, crouching beside Charles. Lando slowly peels his eyes open, burning as he stares at Max. Max's blue eyes mirror, smiling softly; Lando blinks, feeling this calmness wash over him.

"You're using your powers," Lando whispers, his ugliness dying. Max's hand is slightly warm but comforting. "I am; you seemed to be struggling with... this." Max chooses his words carefully. Charles rests his head on Max's shoulder, smiling gently. "Hey, there," Charles whispers, running fingers through Lando's sweaty curls. "I'm here," Carlos whispers, pulling away, but Lando chases after him and clings to Carlos. "Don't leave," Lando's voice so vulnerable and raw that Carlos can't help but growl softly, "I'm not leaving you," Carlos whispers, tightening his grip.

"How," Lando takes a deep breath, his chest shaking as he feels his anxiety comes down. "How'd you know?" Lando whispers, hiding his face in Carlos's neck, loving the smell of his cologne. "Oscar was pacing outside; he seemed distressed, and we were talking. He knows we're close, and that's how we knew," Max whispers, sitting down properly, Charles moving to curl into Max. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to be here with me. Charles, you had a bad race, too." Lando whispers, hand grabbing Charles's free hand and holding it close.

"Eh, typical Ferrari, but nothing like yours." Lando cringes, Max and Charles giving him a pity smile. "Should've DNF'd would've hurt worse." Carlos chuckles and pulls Lando off the couch and into his lap so he can curl up with the others. "I used my powers on Oscar. I didn't mean to," He whispers, disgusted with himself. The first race, and he's already fucked up. "Lando, it's okay. You were under a lot of stress; everyone has a flare-up." Max tries to comfort him, but Lando shakes his head.

"This isn't like calming or angering someone by accident, Max," Lando spits, feeling angry that they think what he did was okay. "I can make people do whatever I say; it's unnatural." Lando looks down, picking at the skin around his nails. "Lando," Carlos growls, grabbing his friend by the hands and making him face him. "It's not unnatural; you're a siren, and their voices are powerful. That's not a bad thing. You just got worked up, and that's fine. You think I haven't lost control, Charles or Max haven't? It happens, and it'll happen again. You can only control how you react to it, which will make the difference." Carlos presses a soft kiss to Lando's temple.

"I know; maybe I should return to therapy or buy those special mouthguards. "No," All three growl. It was a mouth guard given out by the FIA for any supernatural they deemed dangerous. It was a barbaric practice that Sebastian and Lewis had fought for years. Meant for wolves, vampires, and anything else the FIA didn't like, it was another way to control the drivers. "You buy one, and I swear to god, I'll call your mother." Lando cringes at that threat, knowing that Cisca would rip the world.

"But," "No," Charles's accent thick, his gorgeous hazel eyes a dark red. "Lando, we don't care if you use your voice on us; it happens; I mean shit, I feed off Carlos sometimes," "What?" Max growls, "Nothing, babe, anyways, we're family, and sometimes we have to use our gifts on each other. Besides, you've never caused harm." Charles tries to comfort him, and Lando sighs, moving and welcoming him into Charles and Max's arms. "I know, but," A large hand covers Lando's mouth, and warm chocolate eyes stare into Lando's sea-green eyes.

"Lando, no buts; if we didn't love or feel safe around you, we wouldn't be here, but we're here. We'll always be here," Carlos whispers, bumping his forehead against Lando's. "Lando!" The men all stiffen, hearing Andrea's voice. "We have the video to film. Is everything okay?" Lando takes a deep breath; pine, sweat, lavender, champagne, and damp earth fill Lando's nose, the smell of his family. "Yeah! Be out in a second!" Lando calls, sounding his usual self. Carlos smiles, placing a soft kiss on Lando's cheek.

"I miss those eyes of yours," He whispers and hugs Lando close, who relishes in Carlos's warmth. Lando craves to be warm.

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

Oscar can't help but pace back and forth, trying to rack his brain about why he just left Lando like that. Even though he was outside surrounded by different smells, the smell of fear, anger, and disgust still lingers in his nose. He no longer wears his race suit, just his black shorts and signature orange shirt. Hissing, Oscar looks down, seeing his finger torn to shreds. He had been biting the loose skin, trying to calm himself.

He couldn't understand why Lando was so upset, which drove him. He was so close to breaking the door down that Lando spoke; a sweet taste was in his mouth as he walked away. Now, his head just felt heavy, and his mouth was dry. "What's up," Oscar spins, almost headbutting Lando, who was smiling like nothing happened. It did nothing to calm Oscar's nerves. "Lando," Oscar reaches out, but Lando pulls back, fixing his curls, placing his hat on top, and smirking. "We've got a video to film, and say how I finished last and to trust the process." Lando skips slightly, heading up the stairs.

"You didn't finish last," Lando stops, turning around and looking at Oscar. "What?" Oscar clears his throat, looking away as he rubs the back of his neck. "You didn't finish last, I did." Cocking his head to the side, Oscar tries hard to keep himself together. Lando looks like a baby owl in his mind when he does that. "I DNF'd first; technically, I finished last." Lando snickers, covering his mouth before it escapes, and it turns into a huge body laugh.

Oscar freezes. Hearing Lando laugh flustered him; something in him wanted to hear Lando's laugh more than anything in the world. His lips quirk up, turning into a full-blown smile. "Yeah," Lando catches a breath and gives him a gorgeous smile, lighting up Oscar's face. Yeah, you're right." Lando turns around, walking up the stairs, but Oscar stays still, Lando's laugh ringing in his ears, perfect little bells.

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

"Can I meet him, pleaseeee," Oscar sighs as you lay on his massage table, giving him puppy eyes and a lovely view of your cleavage. "Y/n, can you let me get dressed before you're hounding me about my teammate," You groan and flip around, buttoning up your lilac shirt. "We're in Australia, and I still haven't met him; it's literally 3 hours before the race; it's like you're trying to keep him away from me," Pouting, Oscar tries hard not to take you again to the table.

"I'm not keeping him from you, maybe lessening the blow." You mock gasp and sit up fast. Oscar Jack Piastri, how dare you! Are you saying I'm too much?" Oscar settles you with a deadpan look and snorts. "You two together is like an atomic bomb. You'll create chaos." You giggle, knowing it is very accurate. "Nope, I'm not buying it." Truth be told, Oscar was nervous about the two of you meeting. Lando and he had grown close, slightly, but he still had trouble wondering why he craved to hear Lando laugh or smile at him.

"Welp, don't care," You smack him lightly, and he giggles, squishing your cheeks between his hands, kissing you gently, and then giving you small pecks. Your hands on his waist squeeze as you relish in Oscar's warmth. "You're always so warm," You sigh, burying your head in his chest, Oscar smiles, feeling this tingling feeling in his stomach. "I love you,"

You open your eyes, smiling as you place a kiss right over his heart. Oscar rarely spoke those three words, but you felt like you could breathe when he did. "I love you, and you'll do amazing. And even if you don't, Australia loves and supports you." Oscar smiles, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he kisses you. "Come on, let me introduce you to Lando." Squealing, you jump up and rush out the door, Oscar's hearty laugh following you.

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

Lando stares at the screen, talking to Will and Jon, pointing at the screens and telling them what he needs fixed or set before the race. He notices movement in the corner of his eye but shrugs it off, directing his attention back to the screen. "Wow, you really are pretty," Lando jumps, turning to see a girl staring at him. "Um, thank you, strange girl," Lando steps back, Oscar rounds the corner, and Lando almost waves him off. Still, when Oscar's eyes land on you, he sees such a softness that he wishes Oscar was looking at him like that.

"Y/n," You turn and smile, returning to staring at Lando. "I like the beard. It suits you. Your baby face makes you look too much like a baby," Lando blinks as Oscar approaches you, touching your shoulder blades. Lando follows his hand as Oscar slides it down your back to your ass before placing it back on your waist. Oscar looks up and smiles at Lando. Lando looks away quickly. "Thanks, I like my beard too," You smile and move closer to Lando.

"Woah, I love your eyes," Lando's eyes widened, ripping away eye contact, and he felt panic and bile rising to his throat. He couldn't do that to you, not Oscar's girlfriend. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous," You mumble, stepping back into Oscar's space. "No!" Lando yells, causing some mechanics to look over. He laughs nervously, fidgeting with his race suit. "You didn't make me nervous; I just got anxious when people looked directly into my eyes." You nod, thinking everything over. "Okay, then I won't do that. I'm Y/n, Y/n L/N." You stick your hand out, smiling so brightly.

"Lando, Lando Norris." "I know," You giggle; Lando blushes and pulls his hand back, rocking on his heels. "She's been wanting to meet you, and finally, she can, which means she'll stop bugging me." Oscar jokes, bouncing his hip against yours. "You've been wanting to meet me?" Something in how he says it has you and Oscar staring at him. He said it in awe that he couldn't believe someone wanted to meet him. "Well, Oscar talks about you a lot, and I've been a fan since you joined F2. Why wouldn't I want to meet you?" Lando is shocked, closing his mouth.

"Oh, I don't know," You smile and loop your arms together. Lando smiles, enjoying the way you are so relaxed with him. "Oscar, show us around," Oscar stares at the two of you, blinking slowly as he takes in the fact he very much liked the way you two looked together. He was in trouble.

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

"Stop, I can't," you giggle, trying your best not to choke on your drink. Lando is red in the face, laughing so hard that Oscar growls in embarrassment. "Carlos just doesn't like him, and so Carlos, like, growled, and Oscar turned around and made this little kitten sound." Lando gasps out, which sends you into a new round of laughter. "He caught me off guard!" Oscar tries his best to defend himself e, but it's useless.

"Guess you've been hanging around Mr. Orange too much," you wheeze out. Oscar reaches over and pinches your side, which makes you yelp and move closer to Lando. "Landooo," you whine and wrap your arms around Lando's neck. "Oscar is bullying me," Oscar rumbles lowly and shakes his head as the food is brought out.

Lando blushes, feeling how you hold him, before pulling back and sitting in your chair. "I'm really proud of you two. It was a good race, and I avoided the crash. Made me worry," You suck the straw into your mouth and stare at the food on your plate. Lando smiles softly, pushing his caesar salad around. "We did good, and I got points at the home race. Feels good." Oscar smiles, and you lean forward, stealing a kiss before biting.

"I'm worried," Lando admits, shoving a fork full into his mouth. "Worried about what?" Your voice is muffled as Oscar shakes his head at you, talking with a mouth full. "That the car won't be good, that the upgrades won't work, the fact we have to wait till Austria, and even then, we might not have all of them." Lando spills, Oscar looks down, understanding, but you just shrug your shoulders. "So?" The two boys look up at you, shocked.

"Who cares? Your fans love you, and they'll support you no matter what. You have faith in your team, right?" Lando nods his head, as does Oscar, which makes your smile grow. "Then you have nothing to worry about. McLaren is a good team. They wouldn't have put you in this position if they didn't think you could." Lando smiles, his eyes soft as you take a hug bite, which has Oscar snicker. "You're eating like a werewolf," Shrugging your shoulders, you swallow before smiling. "Well, you wore me out last night and this morning," you tease. Lando looks away, and Oscar kisses you deeply. "I did," He hums, and you nod, look over at Lando, and quickly sit back.

"Shit, sorry, Lando," You blush, but Oscar just smirks as Lando nods his head. "It's okay, I've been there," "With Carlos?" You didn't mean to ask, quickly covering your mouth. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Waving your hands, Lando chuckles and stops you. "Carlos is like my older brother; he's just very touchy," Lando gets this soft smile on his face, and Oscar can't help but feel something rear its ugly head in his chest.

"Carlos, he was protective of me for certain reasons. He got worse after Daniel," Lando whispers, and you remember reading about how Lando and Daniel didn't get along in the beginning. "Daniel and I didn't end on good terms, but we're slowly getting there." Oscar stops, trying to understand why Lando looks so hurt. "Hey, some friends go through issues, but it makes the friendship stronger between you two; Oscar and I broke up once," Oscar's head whips to the side, and he feels his wolf cry slightly at the painful memory.

He was gone a lot, more than needed, Oscar was refusing to explain, and you had enough. Oscar can still remember the hurt he felt when you said you two were done; he threw himself into racing. He worried Mark so much that he called you and asked you to talk to Oscar; he wasn't doing well. "Oscar and I worked it out, and we're more vital than ever. We need the pain to remind us that we're happy." Lando smiles, "Thank you," You giggle and kick his leg.

"No more mopping. We need Oscar to show us around Melbourne," Oscar groans, throwing his head back. Baby, I told you we have a flight in the morning. We're going back to the hotel." You pout, and Lando decides to join in. Oscar tries to look away but groans loudly. "Okay! Okay, fine, we'll go out, but just no clubs," he begs, looking at Lando for that. "I'm chill with that!" Oscar nods and waves the waiter over. "I'll pay," Lando insists, but Oscar waves him off. "Hey, I should pay, besides my treat," Lando rolls his eyes, but they both stop when the waiter leaves. They turn to look at you, but you just giggle and sip on your drink.

"You two were having a dick-measuring contest and decided to pay," Oscar snorts and leans in, stealing a kiss. "We both know who'd win that contest," Lando snorts and shakes his head, trying not to think about his teammates, cock. You giggle, a slight blush coating your cheeks, which has Lando thinking about how pretty you look with that blush on your cheeks and hating it wasn't him putting that blush on your cheeks.

"So, what do you say?" Lando blinks fast as Oscar looks at him, waiting for an answer. I'm sorry, what?" He can't help but fidget with the pinkie ring, something you and Oscar notice he plays with often. We asked if you wanted to come to an old hang-out spot," Lando blinks, thinking it over. He wants to say yes, but he also knows that if he went, he might do something stupid.

"No, um, I should probably go back to the hotel. Thank you for dinner," Lando stands, legs shaking, and awkwardly pats Oscar's shoulder. And thank you for paying, um yeah, see ya'll." Lando quickly rushes out, Oscar following his movements and then looking at you. "What the hell was that?" Shrugging your shoulders, you just think how cute and blushy Lando gets. "He's cute. Can we keep him?"

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"You're dumb," Lando glares at Charles, ignoring that he is naked with visible love bites that go farther than Lando wanted to know, and Max's hair is wild with lips bruised and swollen. "Shut up," He squeaks, as Charles leans back, rolling his eyes, Max squeezing his boyfriend's thigh, "Charlie, be nice," Max whispers, and Lando envies that.

Over the years, Lando watched Max turn from this hurt and angry person to one who was now soft and only showed his true love to those close to him. Really, he only showed this side to Lando and Charles, but Max was different from Charles; it was this different, and Lando hated it; he wanted someone to be like that to him. Charles loved Max, faults and all; he thought Max was the Moon to his Sun.

"What, I'm not going to be nice. He's being dumb," Charles pouts, looking out of the window as Max just chuckles softly, "Lando, you can't just suddenly catch feelings for someone you just met, let alone someone who is dating your teammate," Max is gentle with his words, but yet firm and Lando whines collapsing on the bed. "She's....she's so pretty, I couldn't help staring, and every time Oscar got to hold her, kiss her, make her smile and blush, I felt...jealous," He whispers, burying it in a pillow.

Charles sighs, running his fingers through the curls he loved playing with when they cuddled. Max smiled at the two of them, Charles mildly annoyed, but Lando was a dear friend, and he'd never turn him awake; Carlos liked to call them a...pack. He didn't know what it meant, but Max explained it was a werewolf term for family, and it made Charles smile.

"Do you want me to get Carlos?" Max whispers, and Lando cuddles closer to Charles, "No, he's with Rebecca. They're on a date," Charles coos. Let's move Lando closer before the boy stops and quickly backs up. "Clothes," He squeaks; Max chuckles as Charles glares and moves faster than light, coming back wearing underwear and an oversized t-shirt that hangs off his body. "Better?" As they move and curl together, Lando nods, Max moving around to ensure they have everything in reach.

"Charles, did you ever....hate being a vampire?" Charles grows quiet, thinking over the question. "Yes," He whispers, pain rippling through Max's face, but he hides it, looking at the room service menu. "Really? Why?" Lando always wished he was a vampire, even a werewolf, and thought it'd be easier. "Lando, everyone I loved, I've outlived; I wasn't born a vampire; I was turned, unwilling; it was.....horrible. Being turned, it's like acid as your blood, and then just silence. My family, I watched them all pass away, and for a while, I was alone, but I'm not, not anymore." Lando makes a face, seeing the love between his two friends, but he's glad Charles shouldn't be alone.

"Can I stay here? I don't want to be alone," Max puts the menu down, hugging Lando and nodding. "You can stay here however long you want,"

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

"Fuck!" Lando slammed the helmet into his driver's room, breathing heavily as the Miami heat got to him. His skin was dry, and he was uncomfortable; the dry humid had been pinching at him with each guess, the team trying their best to keep him hydrated. "Lando, here," Jon shoves a water bottle in his face, Lando slapping it away, eyes shimmering.

"Okay, okay, I'm going to make an ice bath, okay," Jon whispers, knowing Lando was tittering on the edge, his powers starting to form little knives. Lando gasps, nodding his head as Jon slips out. Lando growls, trying to remove his fireproofs, but can't the proofs becoming a second skin, and it was starting to make him antsy. "Lando, you okay in here?" Lando freezes, hearing Oscar's worried tone, "Lando? I'm coming in,"

Lando doesn't even fight; he's just drenched in sweat and looking on the brink of passing out. "Lando," Oscar whispers, shocked as he trips over his feet and rushes towards his teammate. Oscar, help, hot," Lando gasps, tugging sluggishly at his fireproof. Okay, okay, hang on," Oscar kneels, gently pushing Lando down, and his fingers burn Lando's skin, making him whine.

"Sorry, werewolf thing," Oscar jokes, but Lando is too exhausted to do anything. Oscar moves carefully and gently, pulling the fireproof off, hissing at the heat rolling off Lando's skin and how sickly grey he almost looks. "Lando, what do you need?" Jon bolts into the room and stares wide-eyed at Oscar but quickly removes the fireproof. Help him into the ice bath. Come on." Oscar quickly shoulders Lando's weight, and Lando whines at the heat Oscar is putting off but can't shrug him away as they drag him to the ice bath.

"Help him in," Jon groans. They lift Lando into the tub and watch as some color comes back to his skin; his eyes are no longer dull or lifeless. "Lando, Lando, you okay?" Oscar whispers, his chest tight with worry, almost feeling sick. "He'll be alright, just he didn't stay hydrated enough," Jon tries to excuse, but Oscar whips around, growling lowly. "This isn't simple dehydration. This was more. What the hell," "Oscar, it's none of your business," Oscar whips around to see Andrea and Zak staring at him.

"None of my," Oscar stops, feeling that anger claw at his throat before taking a deep breath and nodding his head, casting a look over his shoulder; he feels that protectiveness calm in his chest, seeing Lando looking more alert but still drowsy. "Just tell me when he's okay," Oscar whispers, moving past the team and to his driver's room, where you lay on the little couch, curled up, asleep.

Leaning against the door, Oscar takes deep breaths, trying to understand what just happened. "Osc, what's wrong?" His eyes move over you, and he smiles gently, but it's useless. You can tell something is wrong. "Did something happen to Lando?" Pushing his body off, the weight of everything comes crashing down, putting together the puzzle pieces.

"What do you know about Sirens?"

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