#I’ll have to start checking more of them out

[writing-mlm]

The Price of Losing

Summary: Being sucked into a video game world because two Doom’s are trying to take over the world is bad enough. But dealing with a try-hard support who hasn’t lost since this started is beyond crazy, thankfully Lin has the perfect way to break that streak. Pairing: Lin Lie x Male!Reader Wc: 5.6k tags/warning: canon-level violence, porn WITH plot, jealous Lin, sex as a bribe, mating press, riding, finger sucking, degrading said as praise, healers being yelled at, I spent way too much time looking at Hydra and Tokyo-2099 maps for this, powers based on Raven (Dc comics) a/n: hiii people in my phone, take this smut as my peace offering

“Thank you,” Storm smiles as you use the darkness to suck the life from the enemy team, using their life force to heal your team. Iron Fist, Venom, Cloak, and Captain America fall to the ground as you let them go, their bodies slump on the ground. Hawkeye and Wanda quickly finish the ones you didn’t kill, leaving the domination point filled with only your team. You watch as their bodies time out, your shoulders dropping as you get a couple of seconds to relax. Floating, you cross your legs and heal yourself. Venom has been diving you for the past twenty minutes and you didn’t want to overwhelm Jeff with healing you. 

You didn’t mind being into an alternate universe, although you’d been mostly retired from the whole hero scene up until that point. It’s been six months of this, some weird video game where you were sometimes picked to play against other heroes from different universes. Or was it timelines? You couldn’t keep up— didn’t, if you were being honest. 

It was nice, although you’d been stuck with your main role being a healer. You certainly weren’t known for your healing back home, but you did heal exceptionally well. You grin as you check your cuff, twenty-zero-thirty-eight with almost thirty thousand healing. With your whole team having a giant zero next to the number of times they’ve died, you guess you were well-suited to being a healer. 

Well, not Jeff. He always died with the enemies he swallowed instead of spitting them out for some reason. 

“My ultimate is ready!” Storm calls, her voice echoing through your earpiece. 

“We only have ten seconds left, you should wait!” You warn, looking around for her, and find her at the entrance of the enemy team, ready to press the button. “We’ll go into our final match before they get here.” 

“But I hate going into overtime!” Hawkeye groans, checking his quiver as more arrows appear from thin air. Rolling your eyes, you watch and listen as Galatca starts her countdown. As she does, you see the other team rushing towards the point. Iron Fist rapidly punches to launch himself forward while Rocket is using his jetpack to try and back it before time runs out. Unfortunately for them, they’re just a second too late as the round ends with you face-to-face with Iron Fist. 

He huffs as time slows down, the air blowing into your face as you wink before being transported to the waiting room of the next map. 

“Who has their ultimates ready?” Bucky’s voice drowns out the sound of him rolling his metal arm. “I’m at sixty-eight,”

“Full,” You reply after checking your meter. 

“Me too,” Storm nods. 

“Ninety,” Wanda sighs. “Hopefully Cloak doesn’t vanish his team again,” You hum, looking around for a water bottle in the throne room. They’re usually hidden around somewhere. 

“Ten,” Hawkeye frowns. Jeff barks something and then spins, water splashing around as he does. 

“It’s full,” You translate for him and he jumps, throwing a healing bubble at you to confirm. Bucky nods as you get a small speed boost, using the time to scratch the bottom of Jeff’s chin. His back paws rapidly hit the floor and you coo before hearing the countdown starting up. 

“I’ll stay in the back line. If all six touch base I’ll pop my ult,” You tell them as everyone stands at the entrance. 

“I’ll keep their tanks off of you,” Wanda promises.

“Me and Storm will push them back, Hawkeye should stay in the rafters and pick off anyone who gets past us.”

“Sounds good to me!” Hawkeye agrees and the doors open. Jeff gives everyone a speedboat and you all push towards the middle room. 

The Hydra map is the Frozen Airfield, so while Hawkeye takes the side entrance to get to the balcony the rest of you take the hallway straight there. By the time you get there, you hear Rocket's feet pattering against the metal and Captain America’s heavy footsteps. He’s such a pain in your ass, but hey, at least he can’t knock you off of the map this time. 

From the corner of your eye, you see Dagger talking before Captain America gives a confirmation nod. 

“Cloak and Dagger are about to ult,” You warn, using the darkness to push Squirrel Girl back. You haven’t spotted Iron Fist yet but you see Venom swing down from the other balcony. 

“Got her,” Storm says and leaves the point to deal with her. Knocking down Rocket and Squirrel Girl with your darkness blast ability, you give Wanda a little extra healing as she deals with the Venom desperately trying to nab you. Finishing the two off, you glance around to see if anyone needs healing. Storm is coming back from an eliminated Cloak and Dagger, getting healed by Jeff who’s happily waddling around. 

“Iron Fist has his fist shoved up my—“ Hawkeye cuts himself off as he jumps from the balcony, rolling to your side as you rapidly heal him. Reloading, you and Hawkeye tag team Iron Fist just as he pops his ultimate, thankfully, though, Storm notices the crowded point and pops hers, too. 

Pulling everyone from the enemy team closer to her, you work on healing the others while the enemies get picked off. The point gets claimed just as Storm goes back to normal. 

“Fist is back at zero, then. But Cloak and Dagger still have theirs ready,” Bucky reminds everyone as you watch Jeff place down scattered bubbles. 

“I think Cap just got his, too,” Hawkeye sighs. “I saw his cuff turn gold.” 

“That’s fine,” You shake your head. “Bucky has his and I still have mine. Wanda should’ve gotten hers by now, too,” She only nods, flexing her red magic as a confirmation. 

“Wanda should use hers if more than three of them come at once. Everyone else needs to cover her so she doesn’t get eliminated before she finishes it.” Bucky instructs. 

“I’ll go to the balcony, that way there’s less time for them to react,” She offers and flies up. Jeff joins her, sitting and waiting to heal her as you hear them running up. Stepping off of the point, you dip over to see who’s heading over before they can see you. 

“Cap, Cloak, Squirrel, and Rocket.” Bucky nods and then gives Wanda the signal. She nods just as they step through the doors. She pops her ultimate while you corral them forward, keeping them from running away with the help of Bucky’s arm. You can hear them firing her but the sound of Jeff’s rapid healing outdoes them before they all fall, waiting for their timer to run out. 

“We should team up more often,” Hawkeye grins as you’re finishing up Wanda’s healing. “This is fun!” 

“You’ve made it halfway!” Galacta announces and you confirm on your cuff. 

“Venom behind you!” Bucky warns and you fly up, dodging his ultimate while Hawkeye rolls to the side. Healing him as you fly down, you see Bucky and Wanda dealing with him. You still haven’t spotted Iron Fist but you know he hasn’t disconnected, so he’s probably lurking around somewhere. 

“Squirrel Stampede!” Isn’t as scary when Bucky shoots the swarm of squirrels until they’re gone. But what comes next only makes you groan. 

“Us against the world!” Moving out of the way as Cloak and Dagger go barrelling across the point, you and Jeff heal the others while also trying to find an untouched spot on the point. By that point five of them are on the point— all six when Venom lands on it. You could use your ultimate, but there’s no guarantee they’ll all die from it. It only lasts five seconds so once it’s up, you rush back to the point just before they take it and use your ultimate with your team rushing in front of you to act as a barrier.

“Heaven and Purgatory swarms you!” You shout before the point is covered in a field of darkness. Six confirmed kills appear on your cuff and the points capture progress goes back to blue. 

“Good timing,” Bucky nods while Hawkeye pats your shoulder. Nodding, you watch as the map shifts, opening the large window to your left. With Jeff’s ultimate ready he could get another team wipe before you’ve fully captured the point. 

Sensing something behind you, you fly up and watch as Iron Fist locks onto you. Cursing, you fly about before being forced to land, sending darkness blasts at him before you can fly again. Jeff is rapidly healing you as half of his punches land. Wanda is slowly ticking away at his health but Venom slams her away. 

“You’re almost there!” Galacta announces. 

“Armed and Dangerous!” Landing again, you see Iron Fist land too before Bucky slams into him. He fires twice before you see his cuff light up. “Again!” Falling into a healing bubble, you help the others heal while you rub your chest. Had this been a real fight you bet he would have broken your rib cage. Bringing the other teams health down, you watch as Bucky keeps reloading his ultimate. 

“I’m glad he’s on our side,” Hawkeye whispers and you nod, watching as he eliminates Squirrel Girl before returning to the point. 

“We’re going to push for the last ten percent. Hawkeye, Storm, and Jeff cover point,” Nodding, the four of you rush to the enemy spawn point and wait for them to respawn. 

They stare at your team, talking through the red walls and you watch as they split into groups. 

“(Y/n), you take Iron Fist and Rocket. Wanda, you have Venom and Squirrel. Leave Cloak and Cap to me,” Sharing a look with Wanda, the two of you split up and you extend your darkness towards Rocket and Iron Fist. You’ll deal with Rocket first, his healing can get pesky when he’s only healing two people. Pushing him into the air, you fly up and push him to the edge of the map. He nearly falls but uses his jetpack at the last second. He’s almost eliminated, though, so one darkness stream and he’s falling off the map. 

“Aht aht,” Iron Fist grins before roundhousing you into the wall. 

“I’m low!” Wanda warns and you grit, trying to find her but Iron Fist blocks your view. 

“Find a healing pack,” Bucky says, his gun echoing in the air. “Or run to Jeff,” 

Flying up to put distance between the two of you, you throw out darkness but he remains on your ass as you land. You watch as your health quickly declines and push him away, running back to a nearby healing pack. He follows closely, managing two punches before you dive and start attacking back. 

“Pure Chaos!” He doesn’t look back as Wanda wipes nearly half of his team. He could’ve easily eliminated her from his spot, with just two leaps but instead, he dips behind the wall so he’s out of her radius and backing you into a corner. His focus is on you as the two of you play cat and mouse until you see his cuff glow that familiar golden color. You’re no longer on any cooldowns, you could fly or use your spray but he’d catch up too fast.

“Aw shit,” You grumble, your back pressed to the wall while he grins, going to press it before time slows down. 

“Another perfect victory!” Sighing, you slump and watch as he tosses his arms up. 

You don’t watch as the MVP screen plays, skipping to meeting up with the team and heading out of the arena to the dorms. 

“Who won?” Spider-man asks as he sees the twelve of you leaving the portal. 

“We did,” Wanda smiles. “The other team put up quite the fight, though.”

“Lemme guess,” Ironman smirks. “(Y/n) MvP?”

“It was a close call,” You shrug. “I had one more kill than Bucky,” The man in question rolls his eyes and you watch as another team gets called into a fight. All you know is that you’re not in the group they called so you head up to shower. 

—

Two knocks echo throughout the mostly empty apartment as you’re watching your dinner get made. Pushing off from the counter, you open the door and stare at Lin. He’s out of his costume and in a simple compression shirt and sweats— it’s the only loungewear available so you’re in the same attire. 

“What’s up, Lin?” You ask, letting him inside. He walks inside, looking around the apartment that’s nearly identical to his, and then spins on his heels to face you. Everyone agreed that while out of the dorms, it’s strictly Code Names. Unless you’re someone like Bucky who would prefer to not be called the Winter Soldier. You just never had a hero name, public identity, and all that jazz.

“You’re a try-hard,” He says, arms crossed over his chest. “I checked your stats, you’ve lost zero games since you’ve gotten here. Who does that?”

“I don’t try,” You shrug, taking your food out from the weird machine. It’s probably bad for you but it’s also the only food available, so you make due. “I’m just that good.”

“You don’t get tired of winning?” He follows you into your living room, standing at the edge of your couch.

“Winners get gift baskets, I love gift baskets.” Gesturing to the basket of fruits and sweets, you hear him sigh. Looking at him, you grin and roll your head to the side. “Are you just pissy that you lost against me again?” Instead of replying, he huffs and stuffs his hands into his pockets. 

“We could make a deal,” He proposes. “You lose and I’ll give you something you want,”

“We don’t exactly have the luxury of having items here,” You remind, gesturing to the lack of items everywhere. 

“You know we’re neighbors, right?” He continues and you nod. You live at the end of the hallway with your only direct neighbors being Lin to your right and Adam in front of you. “Our bedrooms are against each other and the walls are pretty thin,” He makes a face and then waits for a beat. You lick your lips as you try to connect the dots he’s clearly trying to lay down. You do a lot of odd things to pass your time, he could be talking about the fact that you’ve been creating shadow versions of everyone to play card games for all you know. 

“I don’t see your point,” You roll your head to the side while he sighs and licks his lips. Lin takes a moment before he speaks again, having to think carefully about his next words. 

“You lose our next match and I’ll fuck you.” 

“Deal.” 

He blinks, unable to think of anything to say while you laugh.

“Sorry, did you have a speech ready?” He shakes his head and scratches his neck. 

“I just didn’t think you’d agree so fast…”

“You’re hot and I’m horny, I see two willing participants. I’ll take the stain on my perfect record. I also would’ve done it for a gift basket, I heard everyone gets different types.”

“I prefer the sex,”

“Great, can’t wait to lose.”

—

The agreement had all since left your mind as you’re queued into a game with Lin nearly two months later. You’d have ten matches in between then, the excitement gone and replaced with your small yearn to constantly win.

Okay, winning was amazing! You’ll agree, there’s a rush in seeing that victory screen and seeing the basket on your kitchen island at the end of the day. Losing was just… you don’t know, you’ve never lost before. 

Thankfully, this isn’t another domination game. It’s Convergence, which you thought was the same as Convoy for about ten matches before Dr. Strange explained that with Convergence, you needed to capture the point before the object could move. 

Glancing at your team as you load into Spider-Islands, you find yourself as the only healer. Peni, Groot— who technically does heal, it’s just no one ever goes to his healing walls—, Venom, Punisher, and Thor. It would certainly make for a lovely match against… you check your cuff and bang your head on the wall. Iron Fist, Mantis, Loki, Bucky, Namor, and Luna Snow. That’s three healers— one of which can shapeshift as his ultimate. 

It’s fine, shaking your head, you move up the staircase as the countdown stairs. You imagine Namor has his little octopus— one of which is definitely shooting ice— just waiting and Loki has his clones just waiting. The doors open and sure enough, you hear your teammates taking rapid damage. 

“Thanks for the healing,” Punisher grunts as he’s pushed back into the base. 

“You ran without looking, dumbass,” You grit, healing the teammates who didn’t push back. Groot hurriedly places a wall between the octopus and helps Peni place down her web traps. There’s a thump from the hallway to your left and you see Iron Fist slowly walking over. Taking a step forward, he watches as your hands glow black before he taps his earpiece, telling you to turn it off. Doing so, you continue to heal since he’s at a good distance. 

“We had a deal,” He reminds you and your face scrunches. 

“What fucking— oh, the fucking,” Your hands drop and he nods. “Fine, because Punisher pissed me off and half of my team are real assholes about getting healed.” He laughs, looking out of the window as your teammates continue to get dogpiled by his team. He sees them shouting for you, begging and cursing you for heals. Instead, you walk further into the hallway and take a seat on the soft couch. 

“I didn’t think you’d follow through,” He admits, closing the doors that surround the room. You get nervous, shifting in your seat as he closes the final panel door and the sounds of the fight are muffled below you. 

“I’m a man of my word but I can always back out,” You muse and he looks at you, nearly daring you to get up and fight. “Please, you couldn’t take me,” Crossing your ankles, you watch as he stalks over to you, leaning down to your height.

“I was close last time,” He hums and then pins you to the couch. Rolling away, he grabs your ankle and pulls you back, using the momentum to grab onto your thighs with both hands. Gritting, you watch as he sits between your now open legs and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“I’m only not fighting back so I don’t eliminate you,” You defend, ignoring the twitch in your leg as he squeezes them.

“Y’know what?” He grins and leans down, his lips brushing against your ear while you shudder. “I’ll find you after you get the convoy to the first point.” He’s up in an instant and slipping through the exit. Huffing, you drop down and turn your comms on again. 

“I was getting backlined by Iron Fist,” You explain, joining the team after they barely made it a full meter. Group healing, you see Iron Fist jumping back to his team in the distance. 

“I see it was a tie, then,” Thor points out and you shrug, fixing your cape over your body. 

“We called for a rematch,” Sitting on top of the robotic spider, you push the other team back, bringing them down to half while Punisher finds a perch for his turret. He grumbles something about finally showing up and you roll your eyes. 

“Thor, push Magik. Peni, why haven’t you put down your spider things yet? Groot, Luna likes using the side entrance so you should block that.” You quickly list off, falling back into the fight with ease. Normally, as a support you don’t give directions but man, does this team need it. Letting the robot as Peni stands next to it, you work on bringing their healers low. 

“Your powers are mine!” Loki shouts and you see a clone of yourself on the roof to your left. 

“Punisher, nine o’clock, before he uses my ultimate!” You tick away at his health before Punisher finds him just as you see Loki pop the ult. Dipping into a building, you manage to pull Peni and Groot in with you but the others get dived immediately. “He’s low,” You tell them, leaving out and landing the final hit on Loki.

While he killed half of your team, he fully healed his team and you huff, checking your own status. It just needs two more seconds before you can use it, so you heal Groot while waiting for the other team to all huddle together. Sure enough, they all do and you see them all rushing towards the convoy. Punisher sets up yet another turret, this time on the back portion of a roof. 

“Groot, can you box them in a little?” You ask, dodging an attack from Luna. He nods and you watch as they get pushed together before pulling back just enough that the team could get healed and the others would get eliminated. 

“Heaven and Purgatory swarms you!”  

“That’s six!” Galacta announces as you see the six kills register on your cuff. “You’re almost there, don’t stop now!” The convoy is three meters away and when you join Peni on it, it speeds up enough that you reach the checkpoint before the other team can respawn. 

Sitting on the robot, you watch as the door opens but catch the green and yellow outfit from the top of the stairs. He motions with two fingers and you grin, slipping away from the fight. 

“You’re eager,” He teases, using his hand to open your cape and looking down at your suit. His hands wander a little while you turn off your comm yet again, sparing your team a glance as they get jumped by the others. It’s like once they all got into the team they all forgot the powerhouses they normally were and suddenly sucked. 

“They’re the worst right now,” He slides open the door and pulls you inside, dragging his nose up your neck. 

“Mhmm,” He licks a stripe along your neck and you hold onto his shirt, whining at the contact. “Let me prep you,” He whispers as the door closes behind the two of you. Nodding, you let him drag you to the middle of the roof before he pushes you down to your knees. 

Staring up at him, he grins and cups your jaw, running his thumb up and down your cheek with one hand while the other removes his belt, careful to not let the red ropes hit you. It falls to the floor with a thud before he’s on his knees in front of you. He leans in, sealing his lips against yours while his hands go from your face down to your thighs. He finds a good grip on your flesh as you grip his hair, leaning closer to him and biting down on his bottom lip. 

Iron Fist moans into your mouth as your knees lift from the floor and your back is placed on the floor in one fluid motion. The kiss doesn’t break as his left-hand wanders from your thigh, pulling at your pants until he finds what he’s looking for. Once he does, he smiles into the kiss and pulls away to get a good look at you. 

He doesn’t look away from you as he grasps the loose fabric of your pants, his hand wrapping around your dick print before he slowly strokes it. Watching him with fluttering eyes you cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet. He coos before removing his right hand from your thigh and scooping your hand, lacing your fingers together, and pinning it above your head. 

You can hear the fight below you, your heartbeat rising when you hear Punisher setting up a turret in front of the door. He notices too and glances over, seeing the man’s outline, and looks back at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Please,” You gasp, chest rising with your heavy pants. “Iron,” He starts squeezing in between his strokes and you arch into him, rutting against his hand. You feel his thumb roll against the tip as he watches you, waiting for more of those delicious reactions before kissing and sucking along your neck. Grabbing the back of his head, you push him closer and continue to rub yourself against him. 

“Call me Lin,” He whispers against your chest, kissing you through the thin fabric. For a second, he lets go of your dick to pull your pants and underwear down to your knees in one motion. Your dick slaps against your stomach before it stands and he rubs his thumb over the tip again. Briefly, you hear Punisher getting eliminated but the door he was in front of thankfully doesn’t get destroyed. Feeling the weight above you lessen, you look towards Lin as he settles between your legs.

“Lin, fuck,” You pant looking down at him as he smears your pre across his fingers before slipping his hands lower. The one that was holding your wrist moves down and holds your hips down as he pushes his index finger inside. Wincing, he apologizes and kisses your inner thigh. Slowly, he adds a second finger and starts making scissoring motions until you begin moaning. For good measure, he adds a third and peers down at your hole clenching around him. 

Hiding your face in your shoulder, you use your now free hands to stroke yourself before he slaps your hands away. 

“Don’t touch yourself, just lay there and take it.” He stretches you one last time before pulling his fingers out. Whining at the loss of contact, he grins and pulls his pants down. He spits into his hand and pumps himself while lining himself up with your hole, the tip rubbing against you with each stroke. Wiggling your hips down to chase the feeling he presses harder until you stop. “You’re that desperate to let your team know what you’re doing up here?” He grins and slowly pushes inside. 

“No,” You whine, shifting as you try to quickly adjust to him inside of you. He watches your reactions carefully, using the hand that once held you down to dip under your shirt and rub against your skin. He feels your heart thumping against his hand, your nipple hard due to the contact and you moan, rolling your head back. “I don’t care if they see us,”

“Oh, really?” He laughs. You nod as he tests the waters, rolling his hips against yours. “I didn’t think you’d be into that,” There’s no reply to him aside from a strangled moan and your hands slapping the floor, finding something to hold onto. With you adjusted, he slips his hands back under your legs and presses down against you, his hips snapping as his breathing gets jagged above you. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you find yourself at a loss for words as he bottoms out. His dick drags inside of you, curving and prodding at your insides with each shallow thrust. The fabric of his shirt rubs against you, the smooth fabric feeling like heaven paired with the way he’s fucking you. 

“More,” You plead, breathless under him. He snickers from above you, lifting himself up, and starts a brutal pace. He’s lifting your lower half up from the floor with each thrust, his thighs slapping yours each time he digs deeper inside. 

“Losing just to get fucked,” He grunts. “How would your team react knowing their precious healer is getting— hugh — dicked down above them?” He doesn’t expect an answer but he also didn’t expect you to moan louder at the thought, your dick twitching in the air. “You’d like that, huh? Getting caught and letting them know you threw the match because you’re a horny bitch.” He grasps your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips puff out and drool slowly pools out from the corner. He uses the hand that didn’t prep you and sticks his fingers inside your mouth.

“Mhmm,” You nod, sucking his index finger while looking into the whites of his mask. “Wanna get caught,” He nearly whimpers and watches as your dick twitches faster, cum spurting out and landing on your black shirt and the floor. 

“Oops, guess you made a mess,” He chuckles, his thrusts getting sloppy and his hand moving from your mouth down to your hips. He can’t figure out what to do, his hands squeezing at the flesh before they trail up the side of your body. “Fuck,” He moans, leaning down to grab your face again. He watches you as he cums inside of you, still thrusting as he empties himself. You’re letting out broken noises as he does, your legs slowly lowering to the ground as he comes to a stop.

“They’ve made it halfway, stop them!” Glacata announces in his ear and he huffs. 

“They still haven’t lost?” You ask and he shakes his head, slowly pulling out. Checking your cuff, you see they all have at least six deaths and groan. 

“Round two?” He asks and you easily agree. “Ride me?” 

“I think you just wanna see my face,” You quip and he shrugs, sitting down on the floor table cushion. His back pressed against the wooden panel wall while he slowly pumped himself. You watch as the tip of his dick disappears under his skin before getting pulled taught when he pulls it down. He lets out breathy moans while you’re climbing on top of him. He unclips your cape, letting it fall down his legs and you fling it to the side. 

Holding his shoulder with your left hand, you grab his dick and slowly align yourself. He inhales sharply as his cum drips from your hole and spreads across his dick before you sink down on him. Slowly rocking back and forth, you look up at him and kiss his neck. You feel his pulse under your lips, how he’s straining himself to remain composed. 

“(Y/n),” He strains, hands gripping your ass as you start moving faster. 

“Yeah, Lin?” You ask, looking up at him from the red spot you’re leaving under his ear. 

“Don’t stop,” He moans, guiding your hips into a better position. His hips buck into yours erratically, still not fully recovered from the first orgasm. Through your cuff, you hear the countless healing pins before grumbling and tossing them to the side. Lin snickers through his parted, glossy lips. 

“You feel so good, Lin,” You breathe, hanging your head as he’s reaching deep inside of you. His tip hits your prostate more in this position and you swear to Khonshu or Bast that you’re never going to leave his dick. 

“You’re so cock hungry it’s easy,” He coos, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb as tears bead on the side of your eyes. “Next time— fuck— next time you’re in your room, touching yourself, just knock on the wall. I’ll come and make you feel this good again, yeah?” Rapidly nodding, he pulls you closer and kisses you.

“It’s the final ten seconds!” Galacta announces and you gasp while pulling away. Checking his cuff, you see the timer rapidly going down and let out a strangled groan, rocking your hips faster against him. He helps you, picking you up and slamming you down on his cock in ways that make you scream. 

“We’ll have to keep fighting until we find a winner!” Stopping on his dick, you feel yourself cumming again, this time you manage to do it at the same time. Slumping against his chest, you pant while he tosses his head back, also trying to catch his breath. 

Carefully, you peel yourself from him and lazily put your pants back on while he does the same. 

Finding your cuff, you slip it on and check the Overtime meter. It was slowly going down, so maybe another minute before the match would end. Slinging your cape back on, you feel Lin wrap his arms around you before pulling you into his chest. 

“What?” You ask, turning your head to face him. He just grins and shrugs, nipping at your ear. 

“Armed and Dangerous!” Briefly, you see Bucky launching into the air and hope he lands all his kills. 

“Nothing, just making sure you don’t leave.” He hums, squeezing your ass before giving it a small tap.

“Again!”

“I’m a man of my word, Lin. You’re teams gonna win,” 

“Again!” 

Checking the meter again, you see it rapidly going down and find that Bucky has completely wiped the team. 

“Well, you can’t expect to win ‘em all…”  

—

“Fuck was that about?” Frank pushes your shoulder as you’re transported back to your team. None of them catch your dazed look as you fix your cape over your cum stained clothes. “What happened to your streak?”

“Rough day,” You shrug. “Win some, lose some.” He grits but it is just a game after all, so he calms down and follows the rest of the team back to the portal. You see Lin halfway, getting chewed out by Bucky for being awol for the whole game, unaware that Lin is still trying to fix his belt. His eyes catch yours through his mask and he winks, making a call-me motion before you turn and head into the dorms. 

“I cannot believe you lost!” Doreen gasps as you head inside. 

“Can’t be perfect all the time,” You huff through a smile. “It won’t happen again, though.”

“It definitely will,” Lin appears behind you, subtly grabbing your ass again. Chewing the inside of your mouth, you watch as Doreen laughs before moving over to the others. Everyone else is completely unaware of his actions even as he pulls you into the elevator, roughly kissing you before the doors even fully close.

[oscinhaslandito]

could you do some taking care of you on period stories!!

alright so kinda sorta inspired by max and lando's latest stream there wasn't a specific driver request so i chose lando cause the stream was on my mind hope that's okay so yeah anyways enjoy!!!!

(p.s.: he's so adorable in this clip😭)

It had been quite a bit since Lando and Max had streamed from the same room. Finally after weeks of back and forth they stumbled on one date. So, here they both are streaming from Lando's apartment in Monaco, the chat going absolutely feral, seeing them together.

Y/N had been looking forward to a cozy evening while Lando and Max entertained the internet with their usual chaotic stream. She had taken a warm shower, ready to curl up in bed and scroll aimlessly on her phone. But just as she was drying off, she felt the unmistakable cramp and the dreaded realization hit her.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she muttered, sighing as she reached for her supply of pads.

Now, wrapped in one of Lando’s oversized hoodies, she lay in bed with a heating pad pressed against her stomach. She scrolled through her phone, trying to distract herself from the cramps. She could hear the distant sounds of Lando and Max laughing from the streaming room, their voices slightly muffled by the walls.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Lando and Max were in the middle of a heated debate about who was better at Tarkov.

"Mate, you are so bad at this," Max laughed. "I swear, you run in circles half the time."

"Nah, you're just jealous of my skills," Lando shot back, grinning.

A notification popped up on Lando’s second screen, signaling they had been streaming for a while. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want anything?” he asked Max, standing up.

Max waved a hand. “Yeah, just get me whatever you’re having.”

Lando nodded, stretching his arms before heading out of the streaming room. As always, before making his way to the kitchen, he took a detour to check on Y/N. It was a habit now—every time he had a moment, he’d sneak in to give her a quick kiss or hug, just because he could.

When he walked in, he immediately noticed her curled up in bed, heating pad pressed against her stomach. His playful smile softened. He knew what that meant.

"Babe, you on your period?" he asked softly, sitting beside her.

Y/N let out a dramatic sigh. "Unfortunately. It’s a nightmare."

Lando leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I’ll be right back, okay?", he said exiting the room, leaving the girl confused.

He made his way to the kitchen but instead of grabbing just drinks, he started rummaging through the pantry. He knew Y/N's go-to period snacks: chocolate, some chips, and—oh, he had bought her favorite cookies last week! Score!

When he returned to the streaming room, Max looked up. "Took you long enough—wait, what’s all that?"

Lando placed the drinks on the desk but held onto the snacks. "Y/N’s on her period. We’re ending the stream."

Max blinked before nodding. "Oh. Yeah, fair enough. She needs the comfort package."

Without hesitation, Max turned to their viewers. "Alright, lads, that’s it for tonight. Emergency calls."

The chat flooded with confusion and questions, but they ignored it, quickly shutting everything down. Once everything was offline, Max followed Lando to the bedroom, where Y/N was still curled up.

"Brought you some goodies, love," Lando said, placing the snacks beside her. "And we ended the stream, so now you have our full attention."

Max flopped onto the bed dramatically. "I’m here for moral support."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. "You guys really didn’t have to end your stream."

"Nah, you’re more important," Lando said without hesitation, climbing into bed beside her.

Max smirked. "He’s so whipped."

"Shut up," Lando muttered, wrapping his arms around Y/N. "Let me cuddle my girlfriend in peace."

Max, shaking his head, let out a small chuckle at his best friend. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two to it. Take care."

Y/N smiled softly. "Thanks, Max. And sorry you had to end your stream because of me."

Max scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Nah, I was getting tired of your whiny boyfriend anyway."

Lando gave Max an unimpressed look while Y/N burst into laughter, making Lando pout. "Wow, the betrayal."

Max grinned, backing away towards the door. "Get used to it, mate. See you in the morning—if you survive the clinginess."

With that, he slipped out, leaving Lando and Y/N wrapped up in each other, completely content.

As soon as the door shut, Lando tightened his arms around Y/N, burying his face into her neck. "Finally, alone time."

Y/N giggled, turning slightly to nuzzle against his curls. "You’re so dramatic."

"Shhh," he mumbled. "Let me be clingy."

She smiled, running her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He let out a hum of approval, his whole body relaxing against hers. "You're literally the best boyfriend ever, you know that?"

Lando lifted his head, grinning sleepily. "Say it again."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but complied. "Best boyfriend ever."

He kissed her cheek, then her nose, then her forehead. "I love you."

She melted into his embrace. "I love you too. Even when you’re extra."

"Especially when I’m extra," he corrected smugly, pulling the blanket over them. "Now let’s get comfy. Movie? Nap? Or just more cuddles?"

"Mmm, all of the above."

Lando beamed, pulling her even closer. "Perfect."

And just like that, he stayed wrapped around her for the rest of the night, whispering sweet nothings and making sure she was as comfortable as possible. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he’d always be there to take care of her—no matter what.

[merakiui]

jade is absolutely getting off to the thought of drugging you up with mushrooms and then using them to fuck you

Oh, most definitely. 😌

“You’re an ash-hole,” is the first thing to tumble out of your mouth. The insult isn’t nearly as biting as you’d hoped it would be, for the slurred way in which you pronounce the expletive dulls its sharpness tenfold. It does earn you a quirk of the mouth from Jade. The exact opposite of what you wanted.

You’re sweating out of your skin, body temperature rocket-high. It almost rivals the stifling humidity of the off-campus woods, which you think might be your resting place if whatever shit Jade spiked your salad with stops your heart. Pre-hike salad, your foot!

He’s found a comfortable clearing, the lush grass more inviting than the cool breeze tickling your cheek. It feels like the wind has a dozen tiny tongues and they’re all lapping at your face. With a shiver, you smack Jade’s arm away when he offers to ease you down. The world is breathing beneath you. The tree trunk you prop yourself against has a heartbeat, and you watch the lines in the bark undulate like saltwater waves.

“As a member of the Mountain Lovers’ Club,” Jade says, lowering to his knees in front of you, his backpack now shrugged off. When you blink, he’s right in front of you next, checking to make sure you’re still lucid. Mostly. “You must be able to discern dangerous flora from the safe ones. The mushrooms mixed in with your salad have hallucinogenic properties. In small amounts, they’re fine. Quite the exciting trip, one might say. But there are some species that have hazardous effects…”

You squeeze your eyes shut again and inhale a shuddering breath. There are spiders beneath your eyelids and in your skin. It prickles. You move to slap nothing off your arm and find that, in the seconds or maybe minutes your world has been turned over, your shorts have been shucked down to your ankles. Jade’s spidery digits creep in close, parting your legs, sliding along your hole through the fabric. You’d kick him if your body wasn’t so keen on melting like candle wax. All you can do is wilt and take in big gulps of air as he presses in, fingers curling beneath your underwear, prodding inside such a private, sensitive place. You’re not sure how much time passes. You swim in and out of consciousness, occasionally snapping back to yourself like a boomerang.

When you come to, it’s with a keening cry and he hums, sounding quite pleased. You’re not sure how or when it happened, but you came around his fingers. The embarrassment doesn’t settle for long, not when your skeleton is jittering in its fleshy confines. You think you might be sick. Something is crawling up your throat. Hands? Vomit? It feels weird. Just what was in that salad? What terrible mushroom did he experiment with this time?

And that’s just it. Everything he does is experimental. Never on himself. You’d quite like that—to give him a literal taste of his own medicine and watch him crumple. What a glorious day that would be.

Like a surgeon, Jade slips a pair of latex gloves on. For a horrified moment, you wonder if he really is going to bury you out here. But instead he procures a particularly sizable mushroom from a plastic bag. It looks familiar, but right now there are a dozen names rushing through your mind and none of them can be correct. You watch with even more horror as he tears a little square package open and slides the condom over the mushroom’s stipe, all business. Perfectly clinical.

“Today, we’re going to learn to identify mushrooms and their uses.” He beams. “Starting with this one.”

“I…” Your tongue feels all wrong. Numb. Too long. And then too short. You try to pronounce your next words, but they come out in a messy splutter.

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s edible.” Jade smiles angelically.

Gee, thanks for the help. That narrows it down by a lot, you think, sarcastic.

“Maybe this will jog your memory,” he adds, and when you blink the stipe is pushing against your puckered hole. His fingers are wrapped gently around the cap of the mushroom, holding it steady.

“Wha…” You attempt to crawl back from him, but the tree holds you firm. “Jade—”

“It’s a very popular ingredient in soups and risotto,” he continues, undeterred in his approach.

You dig your fingers into the ground and rip up clumps of grass. It feels wrong. Intrusive. This strange, foreign thing. You squirm weakly, but it doesn’t shake him off.

Dunno, you think, your mouth moving mutely.

“It’s part of the genus Boletus.”

Oh, you hate him something fierce. This smart-ass eel. As if you’d know the scientific name or the genus and whatever-heenus-gleenus. You’ll kill him.

Not really. Because who could kill Jade Leech? Not you.

But the feeling comes something close to death as you imagine yourself weaponizing the blazing sun in your scowl and burning a hole through him like he’s an ant under a magnifying glass. Instead, your expression falls and you give a short, sweet whine. The mushroom presses in shallowly. Jade watches with a delight that can only be described as exhilaration. His smile is preternatural.

It turns out it’s a penny bun. Boletus edulis. He tells you that halfway into working the thick mushroom in and out of you.

“I’m sure you’ll have better luck with the next one,” he assures, and then you see it. The many mushrooms packed neatly away in his backpack, each one packaged in that chilling, serial-killer-like precision only Jade Leech could have.

[mrspiastri]

I would like to request a desi girl x lewis fic

desi munda 🪅

pairing: lewis hamilton x desi!reader

cw: fluff, lewis being a bit negative etc etc

wc: 2k words

an: thanks anon, hope u like my first lewis fic!

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

“The last time I felt like this before a race was probably in 2008. It’s madness,” Lewis lamented in his driver’s room as he put on his fireproofs, getting ready to review the final data before hopping into the car.

“Well, it probably has to do with the fact that you’re racing in India after more than a decade. Unfamiliar track and all that jazz,” Y/N responded from where she was seated on the couch, filing her nails and adding the final touches to her makeup.

“I think it might be more because my gorgeous girlfriend won’t even look at my face,” he commented with a slight grin as he shimmied into his race suit.

She playfully rolled her eyes, snapping her compact mirror shut and stuffing it into her purse before looking at him. “There, now I’m all yours.” She smiled up at him as he walked across the room, towering over her.

“I think you’ve got a lot of pressure on you today, and not just from Fred and the team,” Y/N stated, making Lewis groan before plopping down next to her on the couch in a less-than-graceful manner.

“If you’re talking about your family, then yes, it’s probably that. I think I saw all your cousins and your aunts in the first three rows of the grandstands,” he muttered pitifully, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. She took pity on him, wrapping her arms around him as he continued ranting.

“I know they’re excited to see their future son-in-law doing what he does best—” Y/N let out an incredulous grunt at this—“but this is INSANE! I might die of stress, honestly.”

She laughed at him before holding his chin and making him look up at her. “You’re going to do wonderful, Lew. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. They all know you’re the best damn driver on the grid; they’re just excited to see you in your element.”

“But if I don’t win, they’re going to think I’m useless. A washed-up, no-good idiot who can’t even win a stupid race,” he sighed, slumping further down, letting his negative thoughts take over.

Y/N sat up straighter at this. “I know you’re not talking about yourself like that. Lewis, you are an amazing driver, and you know that very well,” she said firmly, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Besides, my whole family loves you! You could come dead fucking last, and they’d still cheer. Heck, you could DNF, and they’d cheer as you brought your car into the pits to retire from the race.”

Lewis let out a dry laugh at that. He couldn’t exactly deny it.

“I just... I don’t want them to think I’m a loser. I want them to see me as a part of their family—as your future husband. If they see me lose, they’ll think I’m not good enough for you,” he finally admitted, revealing what had been weighing on him ever since Y/N told him her family would be attending the race.

Y/N was silent, emotions warring inside her. On one hand, she was shocked he thought so lowly of himself and his reputation in front of her family. But on the other hand, the fact that he had thought so far ahead about their future made her want to grab his face and kiss him until he forgot every single doubt in his head.

“Lew, I promise you—whatever happens today won’t change their perception of you. To them, you are the coolest, most enigmatic person ever. And you’re *definitely* the best catch out of all the other partners my family members have brought home. I mean, come on, who can beat a seven-time Formula One World Champion?”

A knock at the door interrupted them, a staff member reminding Lewis that he had to check the final corrections made to the car after qualifying before the formation lap started in 15 minutes.

“I’ll meet my parents in the garage; you go on ahead,” she said, standing up and adjusting the red dress she wore, showing her full support for the Ferrari driver.

Lewis got into the car, checking if the throttle and steering were working fine. “Seems good. Wanna start the lap?” he asked his engineers, receiving an affirmative response.

Y/N leaned down and kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on his skin. “A kiss for good luck—and to remove the stupid thoughts in your head.”

“I was hoping for a proper one,” Lewis playfully pouted up at her.

“That’s for after the race. You gotta have something to look forward to, na?”

He simply laughed before putting on his helmet. The sound of his car revving up echoed in the garage as he exited. Y/N, meanwhile, made her way to the back where her parents waited for her, smiling at the conversation she had just had with Lewis.

“He seems stressed. Hope it doesn’t affect his performance,” her dad pointed out, making her sigh in worry.

“He is. Honestly, he’s more worried about disappointing the family than he is about losing,” she confided.

“I hope you told him he’s crazy for even thinkingthat,” her mother gasped.

Y/N winked while putting her headphones on. “You know it.”

🪺🪺🪺

It was the final lap of the race. Lewis had overtaken Max at the start of lap 37, after tailing him for more than half of the race. In the Ferrari garage, tensions were high, with both drivers in podium positions.

As the checkered flag waved, Lewis soared past it, clinching victory in front of his girlfriend’s home crowd and further cementing Ferrari’s Constructors’ Championship title contention.

The announcers’ voices boomed throughout the grandstands, the crowd erupting into cheers. Everyone at the Ferrari garage ran out to celebrate with Lewis and Charles in parc fermé, the latter having placed third. Y/N and her parents were escorted to where the podium finishers had gathered their cars.

Lewis stood on his car, bowing to the roaring fans with his palms pressed together in a namaste pose—just like she had taught him.

The team cheered him and Charles on, with pats on the back and massive hugs. Lewis was all smiles, scanning the crowd until his eyes found Y/N, waving at him from behind the barriers.

He ran up to her, lifting her off the ground in the biggest hug he could manage without hoisting her over the barrier. She hugged him tighter, his helmet getting in the way.

He pulled it off, handing it to a team member before pulling her in again. “Now, about that kiss you mentioned earlier...” he grinned.

“You are impossible!” Y/N laughed, playfully pushing his chest.

“Good thing you love it.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t let him suffer for long. She leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slow and lingering, as if they wanted to memorize the feel of each other. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She melted into him, gripping the front of his race suit, anchoring herself in his warmth.

The crowds, the cheers, the cameras—it all faded into the background.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads rested together, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I forgot we were in public for a second.”

He chuckled, fingers tracing her back. “Me too. Hope your dad doesn’t beat the shit out of me.”

Her parents decided to turn a blind eye to the couple, instead focusing on congratulating Lewis on his win. However, he couldn’t help but notice her father slapping his back just a little harder than necessary, a certain look in his eye that made Lewis straighten up.

🪺🪺🪺

Later, in the Ferrari hospitality, Y/N groaned as Lewis reached for her.

“Please shower! The champagne and sweat combined make me want to puke.”

Lewis, of course, ignored this, chasing her around until he finally caught her in his grasp—sweat, champagne, and all.

“You’re so disgusting. I just washed my hair, yaar.”

Her smirk, however, gave her away.

“Well, Lewis,” her cousin quipped, “you’ve definitely earned your spot in the family now.”

Lewis grinned. “Well, I’d hope so. It was very nice of you all to come out today—really motivated me. And scared the living shit out of me.”

The whole room burst into laughter. Her father cleared his throat, eyeing the two of them. “You’ve done well today, beta. You’ve got speed, skill, and determination—but most importantly, you make my daughter happy.

Lewis straightened slightly, sensing the weight of the moment. “That means the world to me, sir.”

Her father studied him for a beat before nodding approvingly. “Good. Now go shower before you suffocate us with that champagne stench.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “I told you.” Lewis laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s temple before heading off. “I’ll be back—don’t have too much fun without me.”

🪺🪺🪺

The afterparty was in full swing by the time Lewis and Y/N arrived. The upscale venue was buzzing with energy—team members, rival drivers, and VIP guests mingled over glasses of champagne, the hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the music playing overhead.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, celebratory drinks, and the undeniable electricity of victory.

When the doors opened, all heads instinctively turned toward the couple making their entrance.

Lewis Hamilton, still glowing from his win, walked in with Y/N by his side, her right arm slotted in the crook oh his left one. They were well dressed as always — Lewis in a well-fitted, deep blue kurta, a nod to Y/N’s heritage, and Y/N in a breathtaking red saree that shimmered under the golden lights. The rich fabric draped over her in a way that left little to the imagination, her bangles softly jingling as she adjusted her hold on his arm.

“Well, don’t we look like a power couple?" Charles teased, raising his glass as they approached.

Y/N smirked. "You’re just jealous, Charlie."

“Of the matching outfits or the fact that you two have already stolen all the attention?" Carlos chimed in with a grin.

Lewis chuckled, placing a protective hand on the small of Y/N’s back. "Can’t blame them. My girl does clean up pretty damn well."

Y/N turned to him, eyes dancing with amusement. "Only fair, considering I dressed you."

Lewis leaned in slightly, voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor by looking this good." She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she tugged him toward the bar.

"Come on, Mr. Race Winner, let’s get you a drink before you get too cocky." The bartender barely had a chance to ask before Charles called out, "A whiskey for the champion and—Y/N, what are you drinking?"

"White wine," she replied.

Lewis took the glass from the bartender and handed it to her before raising his own in a silent toast. "To surviving your family’s initiation," he joked.

She laughed softly, clinking her glass against his. "Oh, you’re not done yet. This is just the beginning. But let’s talk about that later, because the only thing I’m focusing on is how good you look in this kurta.”

He laughed, “Well you’re the one who said I should wear this instead of the red one I wanted to go with.”

“It’s called contrast, and we’re pulling it off well. Besides, you look much more handsome in this, like a proper desi munda.

Lewis narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "That sounds both adorable and terrifying. Should I be worried?"

Y/N smirked, "Don’t worry about it.”

Before he could question her, the music shifted to something slower, more sultry, and Lewis took that as his cue. Handing his glass to Carlos, he turned to Y/N with a familiar glint in his eye.

"May I have this dance?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You? Dancing at a public event?"

Lewis smirked, pulling her toward him without waiting for an answer. "For you? Always."

And just like that, in the middle of the celebration, the world shrank down to just the two of them—spinning, laughing, and getting lost in each other, a champion on the track and in love.

never written for lewis before so hope this is nice anon. honestly not very proud of this one but like fuck it we ball <4

[cosmiclily]

For the writers block: I hope this is okay to request this kind of snippet but I think this idea is very cute. -🎸

It’s raining and Vi plus reader are coming out of a bakery with fresh strawberry muffins, a dog catches a whiff of the delicious muffin and chases them in the rain running away from said dog, Vi throws a muffin so far the dog leaves them alone and they run again not trying to find out if that dog will come back for them. The both of them find some sanctuary away from the rain and the dog. So out of breath laughing at their exhausted faces and taking a long look at each finally kissing. They sit somewhere dry and eat their muffins peacefully listening to drips that hit the ground.

“Thank Janna, for the rain” - I just realized I basically just wrote a lil mini story but like I feel like if you tweaked it, it could be better, it would be softer like the way you write the both of them is refreshing ✨

You don’t have to use this if you don’t want to at alll

“thank janna, for the rain.”

• vi x reader

wc: 1.4k

notes: i’m on a fluffy roll, this is the cutest thing i’ve ever written. thank you so much for the request!!! i loved writing this 💕

I met Vi through a mutual friend, and the first time we ever saw each other, I was helping that friend puke outside a frat party. Vi stepped in to help me get our friend home, and before parting ways, we exchanged numbers so she could check in on us later.

After that day, we started talking—constantly texting, sharing random thoughts, late-night confessions, and jokes that only made sense to us. It felt effortless, like we’d known each other for years. But every time we tried to go on an actual date, something went wrong. It was almost comical, like the universe had a twisted sense of humor.

The first time, we planned a simple outing to the park. The day we scheduled it, the skies decided to punish us for no reason, unleashing a torrential downpour that flooded half the city.

The second attempt was at a restaurant everyone was raving about. We were excited, certain nothing could go wrong with a reservation. But on the very day we were supposed to go, they suddenly announced a temporary closure due to “unforeseen circumstances.”

The third time, Vi got hurt—badly—during a hockey game. She took a nasty fall, ended up with a sprained wrist and a trip to the hospital.

Now, we were trying for the fourth time.

“I don’t care if it rains, if the café catches on fire, or if a piano falls on my head. We are going out!” Vi declared over the phone, determination radiating through her voice as we both got ready for our date.

“Don’t put those things out there; they might actually happen,” I replied, half-joking but also slightly paranoid. At this point, I didn’t want to take any chances.

Vi laughed on the other end of the line, that warm, effortless sound that always made me smile, even when I was trying to be serious.

“If a piano falls on my head, at least I’ll die knowing we tried,” she teased, her voice full of that stubborn charm I’d grown to adore.

“Yeah, well, if you die, that’s going to make date number five even more complicated,” I shot back, slipping on my jacket and checking my reflection one last time. My heart was racing—not just because of the string of bad luck, but because this time felt different. Like it might actually happen.

We hung up with promises to see each other soon, and as I stepped outside, I held my breath, half-expecting the sky to open up or a rogue piano to come crashing down from the heavens. But the air was calm, the streets dry, and for once, nothing catastrophic seemed to be on the horizon.

When I arrived at the café, I spotted Vi instantly. She was leaning against the doorframe, scrolling through her phone, her pink hair slightly messy from the wind and a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She looked up, our eyes met, and just like that—everything felt right.

No storms. No sudden closures. No injuries. Just us.

“You made it,” she said with a grin, as if she didn’t quite believe it herself.

“We made it,” I corrected, walking up to her.

We stepped into the café, the warm scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries wrapping around us like a cozy blanket. We ordered, found a small table by the window, and sat down. Everything felt calm, effortless—like the universe had finally decided to cut us some slack. The date was perfect, just the way I had imagined it.

Vi had this awkward sense of humor that never failed to make me laugh, the kind that sneaks up on you, catching you off guard in the best way. She’d say something completely ridiculous with a straight face, and it would hit me a second later, leaving me in stitches. And God, she was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen—like she didn’t even have to try. It wasn’t just her looks; it was the way she carried herself, unapologetically real, with a spark in her eyes that made everything around her seem a little brighter.

After we’d finished our drinks, Vi leaned back in her chair, that familiar grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“We could get some muffins and coffees to go, then head to that park I was telling you about. I really think you’d like it,” she suggested, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

And that’s exactly what we did. We ordered a couple of strawberry muffins, grabbed our drinks of choice, and set off toward the park. The walk was perfect—easy conversation, hands brushing occasionally, stolen glances that made my heart race. It felt like everything was finally falling into place.

Until that stupid dog showed up.

Out of nowhere, this scrappy little thing came barreling toward us, barking like we’d personally wronged it in a past life. Its eyes locked onto me with what I can only describe as pure, unfiltered hatred. Like it had been waiting its whole dog life for this exact moment.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the universe—clearly bored with our happiness—decided to spice things up. Dark clouds rolled in out of nowhere, and within seconds, fat, cold raindrops started pelting us.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yelled at the sky, my arms thrown up in frustration as the rain soaked through my clothes.

Vi burst out laughing. Not just a little giggle, but a full-on, doubled-over, can’t-catch-her-breath kind of laugh. She was drenched, her hair sticking to her face, mascara smudging just a little, and she’d never looked more beautiful.

Her laughter was infectious. I tried to stay mad—I really did—but it was impossible. Soon enough, I was laughing too, standing there in the middle of the downpour, trying to shield the box of muffins in one hand and my heart in the other.

“Here, let me take this,” Vi said, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she reached for the box. Without hesitation, she popped it open, grabbed one of our precious strawberry muffins, and chucked it toward the ugly little dog like it was some kind of sacrificial offering.

The dog’s attitude shifted instantly. It sprinted after the muffin with the kind of determination it had previously reserved for us, leaving us blessedly alone.

“My savior!” I exclaimed dramatically, throwing my arms around Vi’s neck and planting a wet, exaggerated kiss on her cheek. My lips met cold skin, damp from the rain, but her warmth still bled through, making me forget just how soaked we both were.

She laughed again, gripping my hands with a firm, playful squeeze before pulling me along. “Come on, Romeo. Before we melt.”

She led me toward a small gazebo nearby, tucked just at the edge of what I assumed was the park we were supposed to be going to. The rain hammered against the roof like it had something to prove, but under the shelter, it was just us—breathless, dripping, and still laughing.

Vi set the slightly damp muffin box on the bench and turned to me, her hair a mess of wet strands sticking to her face, her cheeks flushed from both the cold and the laughter. She didn’t bother to fix it, and honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted her to. She was perfect just like that.

“Well,” she said, brushing water from her forehead with the back of her hand, “this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“Yeah, but when have our plans ever worked out?” I replied, stepping closer, our soaked shoes squeaking slightly against the wooden floor.

She smirked, tilting her head. “Fair point.”

The air between us shifted��still light, still filled with laughter, but underneath it was something else. My heart was racing again, but for a completely different reason this time. I reached up, gently tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering just a second longer than they needed to.

She didn’t pull away.

Instead, she leaned in, her smile fading into something softer, something that made the world feel like it was holding its breath. And then she kissed me—soft at first, like she was testing the waters, then deeper, like she’d been waiting for this as long as I had.

The rain kept falling, the universe still doing its chaotic thing, but none of it mattered. In that moment, it was just us—messy, soaked, laughing—and somehow, perfectly right.

“Thank Janna, for the rain.”

──────────────────────

masterlist

[aainvestigationswomen]

[ID: A graphic for AAI Women Week, a fanweek hosted at @aainvestigationswomen from May 12-18, 2025. The prompts are below:

Day 1: Promise | Investigate | “Almost like magic” Day 2: Secret | Smuggle | “On the trail” Day 3: Memory | Grieve | “The cage of my love” Day 4: Goddess | Confess | “Silence is golden” Day 5: Mission | Perform | “Laughter is the best medicine” Day 6: Bonds | Witness | “No matter where you go” Day 7: Legacy | Battle | “My own hero”]

Introducing AAI Women Week, a fan event running from May 12-18 to celebrate the female characters of the Ace Attorney Investigations duology! Whether they’re from the main series or introduced in the duology, this week-long prompt fest is for fanworks starring the ladies.

Fanart, fanfic, meta, headcanons, edits, etc. are all welcome, as are AUs. Works may feature solo characters, platonic relationships, and/or ships. I only ask that works focus on female characters in AAI&AAI2.

Each day will have three optional prompts: a noun related to the AAI ladies, a verb describing actions they take in the games, and a phrase one of them has said. Feel free to pick one or mix-and-match, interpret them however you like, or ignore them entirely.

Check out the guidelines for more info.

When the event starts, I’ll share a tag and Ao3 collection for participants. In the meantime, please boost this post, and while you’re at it, feel free to share in the tags who your favorite AAI lady is and why! You can comment or send an ask if you have any questions.

I look forward to seeing what everyone creates!

Thank you @aafancalendar @aayurirare!

[emphasisonthehomo]

More Popstar!Au

For context, this takes place right before the first actual concert Buck and Tommy perform together.

Here's Buck in peak drama queen mode.

•

“Tommy Kinard, is that you?”

As Buck turns, a rail thin man with a long beard starts waving his arms like a windmill.

“Oh fuck,” Tommy grumbles under his breath, before saying louder “Artem! Good to see you man, I didn’t know you worked here now.”

Artem comes jogging over, dressed all in black with STAFF in bold letters across his chest.

“Yeah, for a couple years,” Artem says, holding Tommy by his shoulders and shaking him a bit, “Damn dude, tech death doesn’t pay shit if you’re doing this too.”

Buck bristles, and Tommy starts laughing awkwardly.

“I’m here as a favor,” Tommy says, “Last minute thing.”

“Oh really? Cool. Doing sound again? You’re late as fuck if that’s the case,” Artem speaks a mile a minute, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Buck and Eddie are both staring at him.

“No. I’m drumming,” Tommy says, easy as anything.

“For Buckley?” Artem looks cartoonishly shocked.

Honestly? Buck can relate to that. Part of him still can’t believe it. 

“Uh…” Tommy’s eyes are very wide, and they look shockingly blue under the florescent lighting as he glances at Buck. Buck just raises his eyebrows in return. Eddie looks like he can’t decide if he wants to laugh or not.

“As I Lay Dying always needs a new drummer, you don’t have to resort to that,” Artem continues, before laughing hysterically.

“I would genuinely rather choke,” Tommy says, “I gotta go dude. See you around.”

“Cool man,” Artem pats him on the shoulder, “Bye!”

Just as suddenly as he appeared, Artem is jogging off in another direction.

“Sorry about that,” Tommy mumbles, “He’s uh. He’s nice enough, but he’s… a lot.”

“Can he not see?" Eddie sounds bewildered.

“He used to do a lot of mushrooms,” Tommy explains, before speaking to Buck directly “Also I don’t think he knows what you look like.”

“My face is on a 50-foot screen in front of the building,” Buck feels obligated to point out.

“I don’t know,” Tommy says defensively, “I once saw Artem eat a live grasshopper for a McDouble, and that was back when those were only like a dollar. He’s not exactly the brightest crayon in the box.”

“What does he do?” Buck asks, anxiety starting to claw at him, “It’s not stage effects or anything right?”

“Oh no,” Tommy shakes his head immediately, “I don’t know what he does here, but when I’ve worked with him, he’s always done merch.”

“It’ll be fine,” Eddie says confidently, “I don’t think MSG hires people that can ruin shows.”

“I’m going to throw up,” Buck says bluntly.

“C’mon,” Eddie rolls his eyes and grabs at Buck’s hand and starts dragging him further down the hallway, “You need to chill out.”

“I’m going to. Throw. Up.” Buck repeats, but he lets Eddie pull him into the greenroom.

“For real?” Eddie asks, pushing the door open “Or are you being dramatic?”

“I’ll let you know if it’s ever for real,” Buck says sourly, throwing himself onto one of the couches.

Unmoved by Buck’s distress, Eddie just grabs the trashcan in the corner and places it delicately next to Buck’s knee. Buck scowls at him. It’s frustrating, but more than that it’s stupid. Buck knows he’s being difficult, but that doesn’t stop him from doing so.

“I’m going to go grab food,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips, “Hey? Tommy?”

“Yeah?” Tommy says, wandering into the greenroom behind them.

“Can you make sure Buck doesn’t leave this room?” Eddie says, placing a hand seriously on the top of Tommy’s shoulder.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Tommy says, looking amused, “He’s a grown man.”

“Put him in a headlock if you have to,” Eddie continues, “He’s ticklish.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Buck bristles.

“Ticklish,” Tommy repeats with a sharp nod, “Got it. And what happens when he fires me?”

“He can’t fire you,” Eddie snorts, “Bobby signs your checks.”

“I sign Bobby’s checks,” Buck says mulishly, crossing his arms and sinking low against the couch cushions, “I’m going to fire you.”

“No, you won’t,” Eddie says easily, before turning to Tommy, “You want anything?”

“I’m good,” Tommy says with a shrug, sitting down on the couch opposite Buck, “I’ll get something later. I gotta go find out where my practice pad is.”

“I’ll ask Bobby if I see him,” Eddie says, already halfway out the door.

“I wanna beer!” Buck calls after him.

Eddie flips him off without looking back, and vanishes down the hallway.

“It’s a bit early for a beer,” Tommy says mildly.

Buck doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response. He makes a point of laying down on the couch and turning his back to Tommy.

“Okay,” Tommy mumbles under his breath, “You’re the boss, you sign Bobby’s checks, you can have a beer at noon.”

Buck doesn’t respond to that either. He’s so tired his eyes hurt. He feels sick to his stomach, and the show is still hours away. He forces himself to breathe slowly and tries to relax against the cushions. There’s movement behind him. Tommy says thank you to someone, and a few minutes later the muted and rhythmic clatter of drum sticks on a practice pad starts up.

It’s a sound Buck’s used to. Lucy uses one as well, though she prefers to limit her warmup to right before going on stage. Tommy isn’t Lucy, a fact that Buck is well aware of, and honestly still irritated by. The noise is comforting in its familiarity all the same.

-tatatata-tatata-tatatata-tata-

He’s a little cold, he should have thought to grab a jacket.

-tatatata-tatata-tatatata-tata-

Buck shifts on the couch and closes his eyes.

-tatatata-tatata-tat-

Buck wakes with a jerk. His face is mashed against the arm of the couch, and there’s a wet smear on his cheek that lets him know he’s been drooling. Gross.

“Wassit?” He grumbles, sitting up and rubbing at his face. A thick black piece of clothing flops down off of his shoulders, and he blinks down at it in confusion.

“Oh, sorry I woke you.”

Buck twists around to see Chimney gingerly closing the door behind him.

“‘m good,” Buck says, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He picks up the clothing, turning the fabric over in his hands, and realizes it’s a hoodie. Tommy’s hoodie. It’s soft and well worn, the white screen printing of Tommy's band's insane logo cracked in some places.

Tommy, on the other hand, is nowhere to be seen.

[gyllenhaalstuff]

Free Sample

- Pilot Kelson ☆

Summary: You meet up with your dealer who offers you a free sample, however this sample does more than relax you.

Warnings: Weed, weed as an aphrodisiac, dry humping, piv sex, unprotected sex, cumplay.

Word count: 1382

Notes: This is a need.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Walking into Pilot’s house was like walking into a club. Dimly lit and filled with smoke, you came back out with 50% less brain cells than you had before you entered.

You sat on his worn-out couch as he yapped about the new strain he was pushing. “Smoked this last night, and I swear I saw God.” He had to hype it up; it was a business after all. “I’ll let you try it out before you pay. You’re a loyal customer after all,” he offered, holding up the small bag. “Why not?” you shrugged. You’d never pass on a free high.

Pilot sat down behind you before propping up the weed and papers on the living room table. His hands worked confidently; he had done this more times than he could count. Your eyes lingered on him as he licked the paper and sealed it before twisting the head.

He lit it up, took a drag, and passed it to you. “This won’t kill me, right?” you asked before accepting it. He shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle. “You’ll be fine.”

And he hadn’t been lying; this was good stuff. “Aren’t you wasting money by doing this?” You weren’t complaining; it was just a bit unusual for a dealer to give out free samples like this. “Doing this with you is not a waste,” he said as smoke pillowed out of his mouth. He smiled, and his heavy eyes thinned even further.

Your legs were turning into spaghetti, and a chill ran down your spine. “This is really good,” you pointed out. You had no idea how you were going to drive home in this state. “Turns you on too,” he joked, or so you thought. But it slowly started sinking in.

He put it out on the ashtray and let his head tilt back against the cushion. “I can’t drive like this,” you said, half laughing. “Guess you have to stay a bit then.” Pilot turned to the side to look at you. His eyes flickered up and down.

“You weren’t lying,” you said, looking back at him. “About what?” He grinned. “About it turning you on,” you admitted unashamedly, something you wouldn’t have done in a clear state. “That’s something I could help with,” he spat back; the hope building in his chest ran straight down to his cock.

“Yeah?” You looked at his lips, red and slightly agape. “Yeah,” he nodded before closing the space between you. It was sloppy from the start, but slow. It felt as if your mouths melted together into one as his tongue grazed yours. Your thighs clenched without you meaning to. Pilot’s hand went to and settled at your waist, covered by nothing as the hot California sun had forced you into a crop top earlier that day.

You moved to sit on his lap. It all felt automatic, like your brain had checked out for the time being and your body had its own conscience. His hands grabbed at your hips and pulled you down against the tent in his pants. Even though his muscles felt slack, the grip he had on you was strong.

His thumbs went inside your waistband. “I want them off,” he breathed out against your swollen lips. You undid the button of your shorts and pulled them off before leaning down to kiss him again. His cargo pants rubbed against your clit, still covered by your thin cotton underwear. Your breathing gained a voice, and you moaned into Pilot’s mouth. This seemed to spur him on further, and he bucked his hips up against you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you,” he mumbled and moved down to kiss your neck. He mouthed at your skin, and his saliva cooled you down as the air hit it, sending shivers through your body. His mouth reached your neckline, and he pulled your top off, exposing your tits. He gawked at them before placing his tongue on one of your nipples. The taste of your sweat drove him wild, and he felt as if he’d explode.

Your eyes fluttered as he bit down on your sensitive skin, and you involuntarily rolled your hips against him. “You’re gonna have to get undressed; I feel exposed here,” you half-joked. 

He proved to be a man of action. He sat up straight and tore his t-shirt off and started unzipping his pants. “You’re very obedient,” you teased, making him blush. “As long as it gets me where I want,” he responded and pressed his clothed cock against your clit. He smiled boyishly as your eyes closed in pleasure. 

You moved your underwear to the side. Shame had left you long ago, and all that remained was desperation. Your wetness left a damp spot on Pilot’s underwear as you rolled against him. You almost forgot he was there, as if you were humping a pillow or your hand.

Pilot broke your trance by pulling his underwear down enough to free his cock. It slapped against his pale stomach, dripping precum. Your hips lowered back down, and you covered his shaft with your juices. It slid between your folds, and with each roll, it threatened to slip inside you.

“Don’t be mean,” Pilot whined. “I gave you a free sample, didn’t I?” You smiled at his desperation. It was sweet. You lined him up before sinking down on him. Pilot dug his nails into your skin as he tried his best to gather himself. “Jesus,” he huffed when you had taken him all in. It bordered on being painful, but the overwhelming pleasure cancelled it out. 

“All good?” he checked in. He was a nice guy for being a white trash California dealer. “Just big,” you chuckled, immediately cringing at your choice of words. Though, Pilot didn’t seem to mind. Instead he looked grossly proud.

You started slow, rising before slowly sinking down on him, upping your pace as you went. But your strength wasn’t reliable, and your body quickly turned into a useless lump of jello.

“Can I?” Pilot asked, wanting to take control. You nodded, ashamed of your incompetence. But you quickly forgot about it as he rolled you over on your back. He stood on one level and perched the other on the couch. He placed his hand on your lower belly and pushed himself back in. He shuddered at your grip around him before thrusting again.

The sight from your point of view couldn’t have been better. Pilot's silver chain dangled from his neck, and his baby hairs stuck against his forehead. His brows were knitted together as he concentrated on not instantly cumming. He wasn't going to be a one-minute man.

What were the effects from the joint blurred and Pilot couldn’t tell if he might have gotten high off you too. The room filled with moans and the sound of skin slapping against each other. Your legs wrapped around Pilot’s back in an attempt to make him hit deeper. Your mind was a cloudy mess, and if you were to take a look inside, it’d probably look the same as the room did.

Pilot pulled out before he came. He twisted his hand around the head of his cock a few times before cumming on your belly. He hunched forward as he did, and unintelligible curse words fell from his lips. He didn’t waste any time before running his fingers over his cum and placing his wet digits on your clit, rubbing circles against you.

You writhed and trembled beneath him, grateful he cared enough to make you cum too but much too out of it to tell him. Your hips moved against his diligent hand, and whimpers slipped out of you with each breath.

Your legs shook as you came, your whole body tensing before falling through the earth. Poor Pilot didn’t have a single thought in his head and licked a stripe up your cum-covered skin and kissed you deeply, pushing it into your mouth. You accepted and swallowed.

He got you a glass of water from the kitchen. “Will you buy any then?” he asked as he plopped down beside you. “I’d much rather come back for another sample,” you said with a smile and nudged his side, “deal?”

“Deal.”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Good to Have a Home

Previous | Masterpost

For a moment when Danny woke up he wasn’t sure what woke him, he opened his eyes a crack and looked around trying to discover the possible threat without letting on he was awake. He noticed Bruce sitting quietly next to him and realized his father’s presence must have been what woken him. He considered pretending to still be asleep, perhaps father would carry him to bed like in the movies and they could avoid this talk, but it was to early for that and he should put Bruce’s mind at ease.

Danny unfolded slowly from his curled up position with a little groan and sat up, checking where the patch of sun was and realizing he’d been asleep for an hour or less. Hopefully that wasn’t enough to mess up his sleep schedule. He stretched and sighed, crossing his legs and leaning back against the wall as he waited for Bruce to speak.

“I know you’re trying to be strong for your brother Danny, but it’s okay if you’re struggling too. You know that right? You both came from the same place, you’re bound to have some of the same troubles,” Danny snorted and drew up his knees, crossing his arms over them. It was quiet for another minute before Bruce added. “If it makes you feel better, I still struggle with it too. I have a well established public persona, but it never feels natural to me. A gala or a formal interview is harder than fighting crime any day.” He said with a little smile, and Danny laughed though maybe not for the reason Bruce hoped.

“You and Damian, both so much more eloquent with violence then with words,” he said, not fully managing to keep the disdain out of his voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bruce wince a little. “It is hard, but it’s much easier for me then for him since I have the training for this. There’s no point wasting time complaining about it. It would help me more if you could talk to Damian and give him some media training, especially before we do any television appearances.”

“Sure, I can do that,” Bruce said, looking a uncertain. Danyal had to bite back a laugh to see an adult man of his stature looking so helpless, he clearly didn't know what to do with Danny. “You can talk to me wherever you want to you know, about anything. And I would like to talk to you more about this, whenever you’re ready.”

“Of course,” He said like a private joke and got up again. “It must be almost dinner time right? I’m hungry,” He offered Bruce his hand to help him up.

“You’re right, I think Alfred is making something special,” Bruce agreed. He took Danny’s hand but didn’t put any weight on him as he stood, which was fair, both Danny and Damian were a bit small even for their age though he was sure they’d grow soon.

“Sounds good, I’ll go see how it’s going,” Danny said and returned the cushion he took back on the chair before trotting down to the kitchen, Bruce following behind him despite Danny’s subtle attempt to flee.

“Ah, master Danny, it’s good to see you. Care to help me put the finishing touches on the meal?” Alfred asked with a kind smile that Danny couldn’t help but return, instantly feeling a little better. He helped prep toppings for the home made burgers Alfred had made and then carried things to the table.

When everything was finished the rest of the family started to filter into the dining room and Danny wandered over to the secret cupboard that held his bottle of Lazarus water. He pressed the door and slid it up, grabbing the bottle and twisted off the cap. He took a quick swig and grimaced at the taste, shuddering as it flowed like fire down his throat and turned into ice and mist in his chest. His eyes flashed green as he gaped and let his breath out as a freezing fog, quickly rushing over to the table to grab a piece of cheese to wash down the taste.

That was when Damian slunk into the room last looking sulky and maybe a little guilty, Danny glanced at him and then sat down next to Tim. Damian hesitated, looking at the table, to the place next to Danny where he would usually sit, that was not open tonight. He sighed and went to sit next to Casandra. The room was silent other then Alfred announcing there were also veggie burgers should anyone want them as they started to serve themselves. The tension was noticeable and annoying so Danny sighed and decided it would be up to him to break it.

“So when can we start doing tests on the Lazarus water? I really want to find out more about how it works,” He said catching Bruce and Tim’s attention.

“I want to wait until you get the first package with more from Talia. You’re reliant on it so you having what you need is more important then any tests, and until we’re sure there’s a reliable source we should save what we have,” Bruce said.

Both Danny and Tim gave twin disappointed sighs and then looked at each other startled before Danny cracked a smile and Tim smiled back. “The spirit of scientific inquiry huh?” Tim joked and Danny laughed, nodding.

“It should be soon, I sent a letter to mother telling her how being so far away from the pits was affecting me so hopefully we’ll have what we need before long and we can start running tests.” Danny assured Tim before they once again started bouncing ideas off each other again, this time veering into other subjects, both Bat and Wayne tech. Tim’s eyes lit up, gesturing wildly as he explained the newest patent he’d been working on for Wayne enterprises.

Danny demanded to see it after dinner and Tim managed to pretend to be reluctant for all of five seconds before agreeing. After that they both ate too quickly so they could rush off together, Tim eager and happy to have someone to talk at about his projects. Danny was happy too! Glad to be a fresh pair of eyes and give Tim some new ideas of how he could improve the product, or things he could try to help fix the last few issues. Some of Danny’s idea’s were unconventional, but Tim didn’t seem to mind.

They lost track of time and Danny only realized how long it had been when Alfred politely knocked on the door of Tim’s office/inventing room to tell them that it was time for bed. Danny didn’t doubt Tim would ignore that and keep working but Danny was used to having a schedule and now that his focus was broken he realized that he was tired… and very thirsty, and sort of had to go to the bathroom. Oops.

“Alright, thank you Alfred. Don’t stay up to late Tim,” He joked as he stood up and stretched.

“We should do this again sometime soon,” Tim said, pointedly ignoring the comment about his sleep schedule.

“We should, I’m looking forward to it,” Danny agreed before leaving Alfred to pester Tim further to see if he could get the teen to go to bed at a reasonable time.

Danny got ready for bed slowly and slipped under his covers Despite how tired he was he ended up laying on his beck and staring at the ceiling, tracing the constellations and trying not to think about the day. He didn’t want to think about how he hadn’t spoken to Damian since he made the comment about this being easy for Danny. He didn’t want to think that they might be fighting now, was Damian upset too? Was he laying on the other side of the wall awake thinking about how what he’d said upset Danny? Was he sorry? Was he angry?

Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock on the wall, well that answered a couple of questions. He stared at the wall. Damian and Danny had slept in the same bed together every night for nearly the first two weeks but since then they’d been doing it less often, just when they’d had a bad day or nightmares, or Danny had heard the call in his dreams again. Tonight Danny wasn’t sure if he wanted to reciprocate, what if Damian was still seeking a fight? But they needed each other.

Danny sighed and sat up, leaning over to knock on the wall in return, inviting Damian to come over. He lay back down and waited, a few moments later his door opened a crack and Damian slipped inside, coming over to lay next to him. Danyal offered his hand the way he always did, without opening his eyes, Damian’s warm callused fingers wrapped around his wrist, seeking his pulse.

Danny didn’t say anything, and Damian didn’t either for a long time but the tension between them was palpable and he knew neither of them was asleep.

“I’m sorry,” Damian murmured finally. “I shouldn’t have said that, I know it isn’t actually easy for you either. I just hate how useless I’ve been recently, you… the family likes you, and you know how to handle the media and I feel like I'm falling behind. I hate feeling useless.”

“Welcome to my world,” Danny snorted bitterly. “How do you think I felt in Nanda Parbat.” Danny opened his eyes and was surprised to see guilt and shame on his brothers face. He too suddenly remembered dozens of timed Damian had lectured and put him down, enforcing the standards put on both of them and making Danny feel worse for his inability to do what was expected of him. “It’s okay,” He murmured. “Don’t apologize or feel bad for anything that was done there.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Damian scoffed, but Danny knew he didn’t mean it. “At least you won’t have to go back now right? You get along well with father, and his adopted children, and of course you have the media training. He’ll obviously choose you.”

“Don’t be silly Damian, you and father are very similar. Father has agreed to give you one on one media training, take the chance to bond with him. You should be the heir to the Bat,” Danny encouraged softly.

“But… You don’t want to go back to the League,” Damian said with a little furrow between his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t. The League doesn’t actually need an heir, grandfather is next to immortal anyway. If he does accept an heir I have a feeling he’ll eventually come to see them as a threat, after his position and end up sending them away or killing them. No, neither of us are going back,” he said firmly.

“But… if I’m going to be heir to the Bat, and you don’t want to be the Demon Head’s heir, what are you going to do?” Damian asked sounding lost and confused. He'd always cared so much about such thing.

“I’m not going to be the heir to anything, I never wanted to be anyway,” Danny said just as softly. He’d never said it so plainly before because Damian wouldn’t understand, he’d always wanted a legacy, a purpose to live up to. “If I end up with a legacy I want it to be my own, not handed down to me with all sorts of traditions and expectations. I want to be my own person, whoever that ends up being. If I couldn’t be that here either I was planning to run away once you were settled, but I think Father won’t mind.”

“Good,” Damian said, his fingers twitching and his grip tightening around Danny’s wrist. “We shouldn’t be separated.”

That made Danny smile, he didn’t think Damian would have said such a thing a few months ago he didn’t think Damian would have admitted he wanted to stay together. “You’re right, we shouldn’t be,” He agreed, reaching out to squeeze Damian’s hand with his free one. “And don’t worry about me Dami, yes it’s still hard on me but I know what I’m doing. I know the league training wasn’t actually easy on you either. We compliment each other well, one excelling where the other falls a bit behind, we can help each other.”

“Hopefully the media training will help,” Damian said with a soft sigh. “Smiling and talking like you do doesn’t come naturally to me. I’ve been trying to practice but my smile always looks… off.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to have a public persona like Danny or Brucie, you can find one that suits you better, Bruce can probably help you with that,” Danny assured as he curled a little closer to his brother.

“Maybe, thank you,” Damian said softly.

“Of course, thank you for apologizing,” Danny murmured.

They fell silent again, but this time it was a comfortable silence, Danny felt like he could finally relax. And with that he fell asleep quickly.

---------

The talk show host sat behind his desk, the Wayne family scattered around on couches, the twins sat between Bruce and Tim on the bigger couch, on the other side Dick and Cass lounged on a love-seat. It had taken a little arranging to get all of the family in one place but Gotham was always happy to see it, especially to have Dick back from Bludhaven and back with the family. He’d been back more since the twins had arrived of course, wanting to get to know the new siblings, but that hadn’t included many public appearances.

“Thank you for making the time to join me and my studio audience tonight,” The host, Jim Thomas said with a winning smile, sweeping his gaze over all the Waynes present.

“Of course! We’re always happy to be here, especially with such good news as two new children,” Brucie said with a bright smile. Everyone knew Gotham’s billionaire adored kids. It seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself without having a full house and dealt with empty nest by simply adopting more children.

“Right, two at once this time. One at a time no longer enough for you, Brucie?” Jim teased and Bruce chuckled rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as the audience laughed.

“To be fair to him, we sought him out. And no one really expects twins right?” Danny said with a chuckle gesturing back and forth between him and Damian.

“I guess not,” Jim agreed as the audience laughed along. “Now I doubt there’s anyone here who doesn’t know who you are but introduce yourself anyway please.”

“My name is Damian Al Ghul-Wayne,” Damian responded first after being gently nudged by Danny.

“And I’m Danyal Al Ghul-Wayne, but I go by Danny,” Danyal followed up.

“Al Ghul must be your mother��s last name?” Jim asked and the twins nodded. “Is that Middle Eastern?”

“Close but no, we were raised in Pakistan which is South Asia,” Danyal said with a shake of his head. There was a soft hiss at the name of their country, a lot of people knew about the violence there. “Thankfully we were very sheltered,” Danyal said before any follow up questions about that could be asked.

“Fair enough,” Jim said with a nod, clearly he’d like to ask more about that but they had gone over what questions would be asked in this interview ahead of time and that was not one of them. “So we heard in the print article how the twins feel about all their new siblings but how do the rest of the siblings feel about the twins?” Jim asked, his eyes sweeping over them. “Let’s go oldest to youngest?” He suggested looking at Dick.

“Oh I’m used to it by now! I was really mad when Bruce brought J-.. My first brother home,” Everyone winced, the family still had a hard time talking about Jason. “But by the time Timmers came around I was used to it and was thrilled to have a new sibling! I swear since then I’ve just gotten happier with each new sibling I get!” He said with a bright, if slightly vacuous smile.

Jim pointed at Tim next who smiled. “It’s been great to have some more geniuses around,” He joked. “Danny is mechanically minded like me, we’ve been working together on some new tech for Wayne corp, he has some creative ideas. Some of them even work!” He laughed and let out an oof when Danny elbowed him. “Neither of the twins know much modern media, so it’s been fun showing them all the movies I consider required viewing, Damian has the best reactions.”

“Well I know we're all looking forward to seeing what you come up with! Cassandra, what about you? These are your first new brothers aren’t they?” Jim asked, looking to Cass.

She smiled at him and started to sign, it was easier on her then talking in front of so many people. Dick translated easily; “She loves having brothers who are so similar to her. They both stretch and train with her every morning though they’re far from professional dancers. Besides it’s nice to not be the baby anymore.”

Jim laughed at the comment. “Fair enough! Some people like being the baby of the family but it’s not for everyone. What about you Brucie, we know you’re happy to have more kids but this brings it to five, How many children is too many?”

“Oof hard questions,” Brucie said leaning back and looking like he was thinking hard. “I’m going to say eight? Give myself some more room to grow! It also depends how many friends my current kids mak,e if I can keep my house full of happy people.” So unlike the quiet, grief stricken home he had grown up in after his parent’s deaths, as far away from that as possible.

“It’s not like all of them live at home anymore! I currently only have 4 under my roof, and whatever friend is staying over of course. There’s room for more, if the right kid comes along of course,” He said cheerfully and all his kids groaned in exasperation making the audience laugh.

“Try to wait for a bit, at least till Danny and Damian and properly adjusted hm?” Jim joked. “Well I’m sure we’re all glad to hear that the family is all settling in well and going strong.

“Us too, we would have hated it if showing up caused issues,” Danny said gesturing back and forth between himself and Damian. “But it’s been really nice to be somewhere we can be ourselves, and just be kids.”

“It hasn’t been coming entirely naturally,” Damian admitted, hands folded in his lap. “Neither has trusting adults, but we have time, and dad has experience with kids who’ve been through… hard times. In that way I know we’re very grateful for our older siblings.”

“There’s probably no one better you two could have ended up with,” The host agreed warmly.

------(Changing back to Danny’s perspective)

The rest of the interview wrapped up well and Danny felt like he was almost bursting with pride that he couldn’t express. Two weeks of intense media training for Damian, he hadn’t enjoyed it, it had been hard and frustrating, but he had stuck with it and it had really paid off tonight! He had done so well in the interview, he had kept a straight face while their adopted brothers were talking and Danny had only had to prompt him once! And it had helped, the interview had still been exhausting but without having to worry about Damian, and with their family there to rely on, less so.

He was still glad to get out from in front of the cameras and back stage to wash off the tv makeup and change out of the scratchy suit before they headed home. Alfred had promised that while they were playing socialite he would be doing some baking, preparing a treat for them when they got home. Danny couldn’t wait!

“Way to go little brothers!” Dick cheered, slinging an arm around both of their shoulders which had Damian snarling and start fighting against the grip. Which backfired as Dick released Danny to hold Damian with both arms and ruffle up his perfectly sicked back hair as Damian made sounds of complaint out outrage. Danny laughed and backed away to avoid getting grabbed again.

“I can’t believe your said you were grateful for us! I’m touched,” Tim teased as well as Damian managed to bite Dick hard, them kick his shin to escape.

“It’s hardly a compliment to call you an experiment,” Damian sniffed turning up his nose at them, though thankfully they just laughed again. Danny was just relieved Damian hadn’t pulled a knife of Dick, he knew his twin had a few stashed in various hiding places on his person. To be fair, so did Danny.

“Really, Chum,” Bruce said softly, resting a hand on Damian’s shoulder, smiling warmly down at him. “You did well, I’m proud of you. Both of you,” He added smiling at Danny as well, who smiled back softly and nodded in acknowledgement. Damian looked like the praise had overwhelmed and shut down his systems. Bruce chuckled and gently led the way out to the car, using his hand on Damian’s shoulder to guide him while he processed.

They all piled in the limo, chatting and laughing, mostly getting out residual nervous energy from the interview. Danny joined in a little, but mostly relaxed next to a silent Damian. When they got home everyone got out and scattered, Cass and Tim rushing to grab a couple cookies before practically running to the cave so they could get out on patrol. Dick broke off with Bruce to talk about something, and Damian and Danny took their time walking back inside together.

“It’s good to be home isn’t it?” Damian said with a soft sigh once the heavy doors closed behind them.

“Good to have a home,” Danny said. Good to have a place where he finally felt safe, where they didn’t have to fight for survival. Good to have a place they could finally be themselves. Whatever happened with school, and hero work, and everything else, it was good to have a home.

[theeverchase]

AN INTRO TO THE CHASE!

I realised I haven’t done an intro post for this account, so I thought it’s high time I do so!

My name is Elijah, I’m the guy behind the Everchase! I’m 18, UK based and extremely and thoroughly addicted to the Magverse! I chose my username because I am a loving and devoted Hunt avatar, and what’s more fitting for a handle than the never-to-be-complete ritual of the Hunt?

My other interests lie in: Severance, The Umbrella Academy, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, My Chemical Romance, Inside Job, Musical Theatre, Writing, Art + more!

I’m using my gap year to nurse my hobbies and talents, and this year I’ll be starting University for Character Design!

I have an art account : @fiuworks , and I’m currently writing a Magnus Archives x Severance fanproject called @magsev ! Check them out if you want :3

You may know me for my Jon, but you might also know me for:

(Elias, Annabelle, Gwen, Tim) + many more! I plan to take over as much of the pod as I possibly can…

You may often see me with Egg (eggball.cos on tt and ig), my best friend on planet earth! I pulled her out of cosplay retirement with the promise of cosplaying Magnus, and now we’re feet first in this together!

I don’t tend to tag my cosplay content with anything specific, but this year I’m going to probably set out a tagging format of “[character] everchase cosplay” as I want to post more on tumblr and create a library for my cosplays here :3

I’m more active on TikTok and Instagram, so find me there too if you so wish !

Can’t wait to be more active on Tumblr!

[pinkiemachine]

Kon x M'gann HC's Part 2 Pretty Please with All the Fixings?

Loving the story.

Alrighty! Part 2!

So, to start off, I’ll just ramble a bit more about M’gann and Kon’s dynamic, then finish up the story :) Also posting this again because I think it turned out SO GOSH DARN CUTE! X3 (P.S. listen to “Bewitched” or “Serendipity” by Laufy. I feel like it captures the ✨ vibes ✨)

So it’s no surprise, after reading part 1, that Kon’s biggest flaw is that he’s very immature. He can get pouty and possessive when M’gann is paying attention to someone else, or when she’s gone for a while. He’s also a bit of an attention seeker, and he loves compliments and positive reinforcement of any kind. The first time M’gann gave him a kiss on the cheek, his world changed forever. Pretty sure it took the other guys about five minutes to snap him out of it. But, thankfully, as the story goes on, Kon gets a crash-course in a lot of things, including curbing his immaturity. He learns that you’re not supposed to roughhouse with girls (unless they’re comfortable with that sort of thing, and even then, don’t hurt them—super-strength and all), and he learns that sometimes M’gann is gonna pay attention to other people or go away for a little while and that’s normal and he doesn’t need to be overly upset about it. (He still pouts and misses her, though. It can’t be helped.) But the thing that he still has a problem with, to this day, is being a bit too aggressive when it comes to defending M’gann. The first time they met another Martian who was horribly rude to her, Kon almost brought out the laser eyes! Like, that dude would have been dust in the wind if the other TT hadn’t stepped in. Kon just can’t stand the idea of anyone hating M’gann, and for such a superficial reason no less! She’s beautiful and should be treated like she’s beautiful! (His words, not mine :) Ultimately, Kon HAS to keep himself in check on that account or else he risks starting an interplanetary war, but boy it’s hard.

M’gann sometimes falls back on her old habits and becomes a “yes woman,” agreeing to everything Kon wants to do even if she secretly wants to do something else. Cassie and Steph are the first to take notice of this behaviour, and help teach her to say “no.” If she’s uncomfortable, Kon isn’t gonna realise it on his own unless she tells him. She’s got to learn to put her foot down on things or she’s gonna be miserable. So M’gann practises this and other types of conversation in front of her mirror at night, and the first time she ever said no to one of Kon’s ideas, she felt so proud of herself! She wouldn’t stop smiling for the whole day! Kon had no idea why she was so happy, but when she was happy, he was happy, so it was a good day all the way around.

The dates they like to go on involve taking long walks around Earth. Neither of them had ever seen an ocean before, so they went to go see the ocean. Neither of them had ever been to a cheese factory before, so they went to go see a cheese factory and got free cheese curds on the way out. Then they went to a real baseball game and ate real hotdogs—they went to a museum (which M’gann liked more than Kon did, but they made it fun in the end)—they went on hikes, marvelling at all the different types of trees and bushes and butterflies and spiders and ants and birds and they even spotted a deer in the distance—and all the while, they would take pictures. So. Many. Pictures. M’gann has this old-school Martian camera and puts photo albums together of all the stuff she and Conner do together, like they’re already an old married couple. lol. Then, of course, when both of them are too tired to go out anywhere, they curl up on the couch and watch some of those old sitcoms M’gann grew up on. M’gann’s favourite is “That Girl” and Kon’s is “Hogan’s Heroes.”

Okay, now I’ve thoroughly set up how much fun they had together, time to make it all come crumbling down.

In the last post I said that Kon kept M’gann’s secret about being a white Martian and her past from the NTT and the JLA, but there was one person he was obligated to tell: Lex Luthor. Being that he was secretly working for the bald maniac, and it was his job to report in with any new information he’d learned, he had no choice. Even when he tried to lie or exclude details, Luthor grew suspicious of him and forced the info out of him. So when the reveal of his betrayal happened, it was so much worse for M’gann. Lex used what he had learned to help take her down, and also create a rift between her and Kon, because he wasn’t supposed to be getting attached to M’gann anyway. Kon was ordered to forget about her because he was never going to see her ever again, and M’gann wanted to forget Kon for sharing her most sacred secret. Not to mention, he had been lying to her from the start about his past, about his intentions, and who knows what else. Had he been using her to get information about the Justice League? About her uncle? Yes, he had, and he wanted to tell M’gann that he was ashamed of what he had done, but Lex wouldn’t let them be in the same room, so M’gann was left to think all sorts of awful things about him. It was a dismal day. This event is covered in full in another post which I will link below.

Now, of course, this story has a happy ending (because happy endings are the best kind of endings). Lex is eventually defeated, Kon is freed from him and LexCorp, and for once he gets to call the shots in his life. The first is going to M’gann and trying to make things up to her in any way he can. Now, at this point, M’gann knows that Lex was twisting Kon’s arm to a certain extent, so her anger is a little softened, but she still feels like an idiot for trusting him so easily, and she’s nervous about trusting him again. He’s still such an immature person—who knows what kind of big mistake he’ll make next?

Kon plucks up his courage and makes a traditional Martian apology to her—the big ceremonial kind meant for state officials and royalty when they’ve severely messed up something BIG—and begs her to give him one more chance. He knows full well that he’s a bit of a dunce when it comes to girls and Earth culture and even being a good person (again, his words) but he wants to be a better friend, he wants to be a good hero, and more than anything else he wants to be the best boyfriend he could possibly be for her. When he was making his decision to finally stand up against Lex, he was afraid of what Lex would do to him… but then he thought of M’gann. He remembered how much she meant to him, and that Lex was planning on hurting her as a part of his evil scheme, and even if it meant Lex would go ahead and terminate him and make another clone, he didn’t care. M’gann mattered more. And she always would. So, with all of this before her, M’gann was quite stunned, to say the least. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Given the fact that Kon had partaken in much of Lex’s plan willingly, the JLA agreed that some form of punishment was only fair, so it had been decided that Kon would spend a year on the Kent farm, essentially doing community service by helping them with all the chores. He would be confined to the property during all of that time, too, so the two of them were going to spend the next year in different places. M’gann hesitantly answered Kon’s apology with a “Maybe… I could write to you… and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Kon was so happy. He plowed through all his chores on the Kent farm each and every day—Ma and Pa, and sometimes Clark when he had the time—would teach him things and show him to do stuff, like carpentry. And then, every day he’d go and check the mailbox, waiting for a letter from M’gann, and when he’d get one, he’d race up to his room (Clark’s old room) and read it ten times over. Then he’d grab a paper and pen and write his response, filling her in on all the things that had happened on the farm the last week or so. They wrote to each other non-stop that year, eagerly, patiently waiting for Kon’s sentence to be up. And when it had been a full year, and Kon came back to the city and the NTT, he and M’gann went for a walk in the park, and without saying a word, they both knew… there was no one else they’d rather spend the rest of their life with.

(Then the picture is from a little party the gang threw in celebration of their victories over all their villains, including Lex, and everyone was encouraged to wear their home country’s traditional garb, and maybe even bring some traditional food or a traditional party game. It was a fun night, and M’gann and Conner got to see each other dressed up for the first time (probably. I haven’t written out each individual episode for the NTT yet, but I like to imagine this is the first time ☺️))

Part 1 👇

Kon’s backstory is included in this post… 👇

[toasttt11]

captain

July 24, 2023

Hayden walked down the hallway of the lake house to Luke’s room as she knew he was in there with Will and Connor.

Will and Connor both came out to Michigan a couple of days ago and were both staying for a few more days.

Hayden has really enjoyed having Connor and Will staying with her and also loved watching how good of friends they are with not only each other but with Luke.

She leaned on the doorway seeing Will and Connor both sprawled over Luke’s bed and Luke sitting on the floor resting his back against his bed and all of them were looking at Luke’s phone, “Do i even want to know?” Hayden asked teasing making the three boys all look immediately seeing Hayden standing there.

“Lukey is trying to figure out how to do his hair.” Will immediately told her with a teasing look.

Hayden raised an eyebrow, “Moose you do realize i know how to do curly hair?” Hayden reminded him, she’s been waiting to help with Luke’s hair since it started to curl the last few years.

Luke sheepishly smiled, “Uh will you help?” He gave his big sister puppy eyes.

Hayden nodded fondly and headed to her room into her bathroom grabbing the box under her sink full of curly hair products and grabbed a towel before heading back to Luke’s room.

“That’s a lot.” Connor raised an eyebrow seeing the box filled.

“I have wavy hair and a lot of companies send product.” Hayden explained, she never counts her hair curly because she never wears it fully anymore, it reminds her to much of her mom so she just lets her hair air dry most of the time and it just waves with little curls.

Hayden brought the desk chair behind Luke wants sat down putting the towel over Luke’s shoulders, “Okay first so this is easier when you do you should start using a curling shampoo and conditioner, i’ll get you good ones.” Hayden started explaining to Luke knowing this would be the easiest for Luke.

Luke nodded and closed his eyes relaxing as Hayden started spraying his hair with a water bottle, he is use to Hayden doing his hair because when he was younger she would play with his hair and he would end up with a head full of bows.

“You want your hair to be pretty wet and then you’ll probably like a curling cream the best, you put in about a quarter size and kinda spread it like you do gel.” Hayden explained to Luke just as her Mom taught her.

Hayden spread the curl cream through Luke’s hair and immediately his curls were already extremely defined.

“You could do more products but i know you won’t so just use a gel next and i’ll make sure you have one that does not leave a cast.” Hayden started spreading a little gel through out Luke’s curls and she knew she would need to order Luke all these products for him.

Luke softly nodded his whole body relaxed as Hayden did his hair and Will and Connor both watched so curiously, Connor has pretty straight hair so he doesn’t need to know this but Will’s hair can get pretty curly so he’s paying attention.

“And Will you will be leaving here with a conditioner, your hair is to pretty to only use shampoo.” Hayden gave him a stern look, she just found out he into uses shampoo and she absolutely would not let him do that anymore.

Will quickly nodded at Hayden’s stern look, she can be scary when she wants to be and Connor started snickering at Will making Hayden smile to herself.

“And done.” Hayden took the towel off Luke wiping her hands off.

Luke got up and looked in the mirror, his curls looked perfect and it only took her a few minutes, “Thanks Haydes.” Luke beamed at her making Hayden smile and nod.

“Get dressed we are leaving soon.” Hayden told Luke as they were heading with Quinn and Jack to Ellen and Jim’s house for a dinner.

Luke nodded.

“You’ll both be okay?” Hayden double checked as Will and Connor will be with Ryan, Trevor, Cole, Alex and Matt for the afternoon. She trusts Matt to keep an eye on Will and Connor and to make sure they’re comfortable.

Luckily lake house has gotten pretty empty again the last few days after being extremely filled since July fourth. It would be fully empty in a few days as she was heading with the Hughes to San Diego for a good few weeks.

The boys all treat Connor and Will great especially seeing how Hayden took the two under her wing. Matt gets along with them the most especially Will because of BC.

Connor and Will both nodded giving her a reassuring smile.

Hayden nodded once more and headed into her room quickly changing into a pair of blue and white stripped linen shorts and a blue tank top and she slipped a pair of Birkenstocks and headed down stairs seeing Quinn waiting by the door and Jack came out of the hallway just as she heard Luke coming down the stairs.

The four siblings headed into the car and Quinn drove them over to Ellen and Jim’s house and they all headed inside immediately smelling something cooking.

Ellen came out of the kitchen and hugged all of her kids even if she saw them a few days ago and Jim came inside from out back.

They all got their plates and headed to the dinner table just chatting with each other and enjoying the family time that they don’t get a lot of during the season.

“Uh i have something you to tell you guys.” Quinn cleared his throat after everyone finished eating and everyone looked at him, “Um i’m going to be Captain next season.”

“Shut up!” Jack jumped up and pulled Quinn into a tight hug.

Hayden just gasped and got up hugging Quinn next and squeezing him proudly, “Congrats Cap.” Hayden whispered with a proud grin.

Hayden stepped back letting Luke hug Quinn next and eventually Ellen and Jim.

There is no one better Hayden could think of to become Captain, Quinn is perfect Captain material and he’s basically been the Captain to his little siblings forever.

The four all stayed for a while longer celebrating Quinn before eventually all heading back to the lake house.

When they got back the house was pretty quiet and it seemed like everyone had mostly gone to their rooms for the night already.

Hayden said good night to the brothers and headed up to her room, she got ready for bed and plodded into her bed.

Matt has always stayed in the guest room next to Hayden’s room and he was on his phone when he heard her come home and after debating for a few minutes he got out his bed and quietly left his room and walked to Hayden’s door and he knocked and slowly opened the door seeing Hayden in bed.

“Matty.” A smile spread across Hayden’s face seeing Matt in the doorway and watched him step into her room shutting the door behind him.

Matt swallowed nervously, he’s been at the lake house for a couple weeks now and he hasn’t worked up the courage to ask her yet but he has wanted too and they both were leaving in a few days, “Could i sleep in here?” He asked softly.

Hayden’s face softened and she nodded with no hesitation pulling the blanket back, Matt perked up and quickly walked over laying down in her bed and he hesitantly put his arm over her shoulder and she just scooter closer resting her head on his chest.

“Night.” Hayden mumbled her eyes already fluttering shut. She’s really getting use to sleeping next to Matt and she sleeps so well when she sleeps next to Matt.

“Night.” Matt mumbled back looking at her fondly as she falls asleep.

[okminer07]

Disastrous Dinner

“Kids! Dinner!” called Alice, setting down in the center of the table her homemade mac and cheese. Garret hurried over and took his seat while his brother Richard peered down the hall to Eliza’s room, “Eliza sweetie!”  

Instead of Eliza, her cousin Dylan came running over. He was a bit older than her, already in middle school while she had just started first grade. Richie had been tasked with taking care of the little scamp for the weekend while his parents went on some sort of vacation his dad had earned from work or something.  

“Where’s Eliza?” 

“She says she’ll be out in a moment.” The boy pushed past his uncle and went to sit down at the table as well. Richie looked down the hall once more before sighing and heading over to the table himself.  

“Should we wait for her?” asked Garret, though secretly he hoped the answer was no, he was starving. It had been a little bit since he and Cecilia had been invited over for dinner at his brothers’, Eliza now in school and needing a babysitter less and less. However, that never stopped his sister-in-law from trying to make arrangements at every chance she got.  

“Where’s Cecilia? I haven’t seen her either in a while,” asked Alice, scanning the table as if to see if she had missed her.  

Garret peered around it as well, “None of you have seen her?” 

Richie shook his head, “Last time I checked she was entertaining Eliza.”   

He turned to the young boy sitting on his right, “Did you see her in Eliza’s room before coming to the table?”  

“Nope. Haven’t seen her for a while either. Though I thought I saw her hanging around her somewhere.”  

Garret’s eyebrows knitted together and he leaned back in his chair and scanned the floor around them, “Cece? You around here?”  

No response.   

He stood up and tossed his napkin aside, “She might just be on the other side of the house. I’ll go see if I can give her a lift. Go ahead and start without us.”  

Pushing his chair in, he started towards the hallway. Without warning, a short startled scream echoed through the room. Garret paused, turning on his heel. Alice had her hands clasped over her mouth, eyes bulging out of her skull.  

“What?”   

Her husband followed her line of sight and instantly froze.  

“What is it?”   

He was met with nothing but stares. Though he noticed, they weren’t directly upon him, but much lower down. His eyes trailed down to the floor and fell upon a tiny puddle of a liquid-like substance. A red liquidy substance.  

It felt like all his organs and dropped out of him. His eyes widened as they observed the small trail of red puddles starting from under the table by his seat, all the way to where he was standing now.  

Garret’s mouth fell open, lips quivering as he slowly lifted up his shoe. There, on the sole of his sneaker, was a red smudge. 

The sound of his quickening heartbeat filled his ears, growing louder and faster, drowning out the rest of the room. No… no no no no no no no  

His foot fell back onto the ground, trembling like the rest of his body was now. No, no please, I- I- no I-  He began to stumble backward, letting out a small whimper as the red trail continued to follow him.  

Ce- Cece-  

No no, he couldn’t have… he wouldn’t have allowed it. His back struck the wall and he slid down onto the floor. He stared down at his feet, at the splotches of red trailing after him. Please.. please…. No, Ce- His vision began to blur and his eyes began to sting. Hands came up and began raking through his hair while his cheeks grew wet.  

“I-I-I… I did… I didn’t- no I….” his heart was kicking and thrashing like a wild animal within his ribcage. Burning bile began making its way up his throat as he choked out a ragged breath. 

S-she’s… she’s, he didn’t want to finish the thought but his brain continued on, ignoring the agony it caused him, she’s gone. I’ll… I'll never see her again, never…. Never hold her again. And..and it’s my fault! I-I…  I did...did this. I… I… I’m…. I’m a mon- 

“Uncle Garret? Are you okay?” echoed a far-off voice.  “Why are you crying?”   

“I-I-I d-didn’t… I didn’t mean to. B-but she… she…. She’s g-gone. ”   

“Garret?”  

He froze, the soft and quiet voice bringing his heart to an abrupt stop. Blinking back his tears, he whipped his head in the direction of that voice. Standing a few feet away was his niece, and at her feet was… Cecilia.  

Her features were etched with concern as she ran over to him, “Garret? What happened?” 

His lips mindlessly formed incoherent words as he stared down at her, making sure it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. She… was she really…. He hadn’t….  

Without a second thought, he leaned down and his hands reached down for her. The moment she was securely wrapped in his fingers, he whisked her off the ground, bringing her up to his face and hugging her to it. Fresh tears began to creep out from behind his eyes as he held her there, alive and unharmed.   

Cecilia didn’t fight against the embrace but leaned into it, spreading out her arms to hug him back, “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” she soothed. He continued to sniffle and cry, continued to be a blubbering mess, “It’s… it’s okay I’m here. Tell me what's wrong?”  

“I….I thought you were… I thought I’d….” he gasped for breath, choking out another sob. 

“You thought you’d what?”   

“I…I…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, to for a moment, relive what he thought he had done.  

The scratching sound of wood against wood filled the sniffling silence as Richard got up from his seat and rounded the table. He stopped before one of the red puddles and crouched down, scooping a dollop of it onto his finger. He gave it a sniff, his eyes widening before he tentatively licked it.  

“Ketchup?” he looked over to his brother, “But why was it on your-”  

“I’m sorry!”  

Everyone in the room whipped their head around to Dylan who had gotten up out of his chair and was white as a sheet. He stared down at his feet, a pained expression on his face. Richard stood and walked over to him. The boy squirmed where he stood, refusing to look up at his uncle as he spoke.  

“I… thought… It was meant to be a joke.”  

Garret’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open, “A…a Joke?!”  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cecilia wincing and her hands flying up to cover her ears, “Sorry.” he muttered, lowering her away from his face.  

His brother stared expectantly at Dylan, urging him to continue, “I thought... It would be funny. And I was told it would be too.”  

“Who the hell told you that this would be funny?” growled Richard.  

“Grandpa.”  

Everything around them stilled, even the air. Garret looked up from his hands and at Dylan. “Da- Grandpa said that?” 

He nodded.  

He looked at his brother, his jaw clenched. Richard sighed, shaking his head, “Damn it.”  

Garret looked back down at Cecilia, his eyes starting to water again, “If it’s alright with everyone, I think we’ll be leaving.” he looked to his girlfriend for approval, she nodded.  

“That’s fine.” said Alice, coming over and placing a hand on Eliza’s shoulder, “Say goodbye to your uncle sweetie.”  

Eliza pouted, “But why?”  

“He’s not feeling well. Now say goodbye.”  

She looked at Garret, “Bye Uncle Garret.” and then down at Cecilia, “Bye Auntie Cece.”  

Garret managed to smile, standing up and ruffling his niece’s hair, “Bye sweetheart.”   

“Thank you for inviting us,” called Cecilia as he headed for the door, his fingers slightly curling in around her.   

“I’ll be sure to give Dad a call.” grumbled Richard, “I have a few choice words to say to him.” 

Garret nodded thanks to his brother before closing the door behind him. 

This was something that just came to me one night. I hope I've gotten better at writing emotional scenes.

[natsuki208]

Mikasa Ackerman! Strongest Girl With That One Flaw

Today is that day when I can express once more of how much of a Mikasa defender I am! But despite all the good, I will acknowledge the major flaw that caused many to dislike her as well, and unfortunate ruined her character going onward.

(Plz, I don’t wanna see any of you haters here for this girl on her special day, thank you)

-

We all know of Mikasa’s strengths; figuratively and literally. She’s known as one of the manga/anime’s strongest fighters, due to her Ackerman blood and what she had to go through as a child. It was because of both her power and compassion is how she managed to save citizens of Trost to escape the city in S1. She showed signs of a dependable soldier.

One other noticeable side of her character that got explored a lot more within the story was her connection with Eren, and that divided a lot of the fans as the series went on. On one hand, it reflects back to when Eren saved her from being sold for profit and how much his kindness meant to her, but on the other hand, it slowly started to isolate her from other important aspects needed to keep her interesting.

But it wasn’t all that bad; to me that is. There have been times when Mikasa showed worry for her other closest friend Armin, protecting him and comforting him during hard times, swung in to save Historia and Sasha from titans, checked on Connie by asking if he’s okay, and even was concerned about Levi’s ankle.

So yeah. Mikasa grew connections with almost everyone around her, opening up to have more friends within her small circle since her childhood, however, her feelings for Eren started to overlap those friendships. Not that it is a bad thing, I love how the two grew closer as the series went on but it really shouldn’t be the only important part of her development. A healthy mixture of all her traits would’ve made a better experience.

Sadly, the concept of her undying love for Eren gets heavily exaggerated in the dreaded fourth season.

By that I mean for most of her screentime she spend worrying about Eren and only him. Sure there was… Sasha, but it didn’t really last for very long. In fact, she didn’t really speak much to anyone other than Armin afterwards, and I thought she’d be more open to help them out with their own struggles.

In fact, her love for Eren seemed to have made her more fragile to his own thoughts as well, like when he spoke his mind and pretended to admit he hated her, she got over emotional.

(this is the same girl who didn’t hesitate to punch him in the face when he went too far)

But at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter since she managed to save the world by killing Eren with her own hands but still has him at the front of her mind years later. Yes, it can be hard to move on but at least show some scenes of her bonding with her other friends, even leaving Armin in the dust.

-

Anyway, happy birthday, you poor girl. You deserved much better. Not as in Eren, but as in better writing to expand your character. I had a lot more to say but I don’t wanna make this too long. Maybe I’ll update this later on.

[russilton]

Hiiiii I saw your post where you said that you wrote 400 words of the red bull george au. First of all, yayyyyyyyyy that’s amazing. I am very happy for you :) every word counts and the fact that you wrote 400 of it is truly great. I am so invested in the story and can’t wait for it (not pressuring you in anyway to release it soon. I’ll happily wait for it because i know the wait will be worth it)

I wanted to ask something if you don’t mind. You don’t have to answer of you think it’s big of a spoiler or it’s something you would like to keep a secret. I understand. First question: Would the fans eventually learn about George and Lewis’ relationship and that they are together? Second question: Will Susie and Toto be like George’s non official adopted parents? I live for those dynamics where Susie and Toto practically adopt George.

Another one I waited a year and a half on I’m so sorry whoever sent this—

Honestly I’ve basically plotted the majority of the story onto tumblr already so it’s legitimately hard to find spoilers, but I do intend for the fic to mostly wrap up either directly after January 2022 or mostly thereabouts, because I’m hesitant to dive too far into the 22 season because it would end up drastically different from reality and honestly I think what made the original au so easy to plot is the developments of the 2021 season make it really easy to tie plot points to— with the strong exception that without Perez in the Red Bull, Max has no chance for Masi to cheat and hand him a win in Abu Dhabi. Because in fic I refuse to allow that reality.

Going Public

If George and Lewis were to ever come out as together in that universe, it would be long, long after the end of that story. Honestly it would likely come some point after Lewis’ retirement, I doubt even the most trusted would know about the extent of it with very few exceptions like MAYBE Bono or Shov. Perhaps Toto years down the line.

Part of it is really because the shape of their Relationship in the Red Bull au is so massively different to what we normally approach on fanfic- they spend a good 6 months fighting and antagonising each other, and the next 4 months barely speaking because George is deep in his own hell. Lewis and George basically go from on top of each other every weekend to cold turkey from the summer break through to Abu Dhabi, It’s a rocky start to any relationship, even without adding the hell George is personally going through joining a new team and building what little trust he had from the ground up, and Lewis trying to balance looking after himself and trying to figure out how the hell to look after George or if George even wants that.

It’s a rough first year or two is what I’m saying. The last thing they would want is anyone finding out what’s going on between them, and how that would effect their lives or reputations— they’re already facing weekly prying by the media to see if they’re trying to kill each other yet— but it’s better than when people question if they’re too close, and queries about if George was ever loyal to Red Bull or if he was a plant start flying. People find pictures of young George chasing Lewis for autographs, it’s not hard for accusations to grow, and Horner or Marko would waste no time lying about it if they could bring George down a peg further.

So among that, their relationship is kept as wrapped tight as possible. George moves to Monaco like all f1 drivers do, so it’s easier for them to meet quietly without anyone seeing, but they don’t really go out together for anything more than dinners around the globe as teammates in restaurants that know how to be discreet. They’re not a naturally affectionate pair, it’s not hard to act like they’re just friends in public— RB George is about 5 times as neurotic as canon George and isn’t really chill and goofy, spending your formative years being micromanaged by assholes and then getting a brutal public reality check will do that— so it’s not something they find especially hard to maintain for a few years, it’s only when they’ve been at it a while that Lewis starts to get nagging feelings that it would be nice to be able to sit by George at pool sides when he’s tanning, or go running together, or get George a little drunk in a club so he could see that rare affectionate side. But he also keeps that to himself since George still seems antsy about it, and even years out from his move, George finds it hard to shake the media linking to his past as a bull. It’s hard enough being the man who publically fell out of his team into another one. Being the first Gay f1 drivers would be a lot to add to that, without adding accusations George slept his way into his seat.

But I think, quite a few years down the line when George is creeping up over 30, and Lewis into his mid 40’s, they might get quietly married. They’re not really interested in being in the centre of a big event like that, especially as Lewis expands further on his brands outside of F1 and George chases championships at his side, they have a lot going on. It’s a paperwork thing, but they still don’t tell many people.

It’s only when Lewis has fully retired, and George wins his second Championship that they might quietly let things build. A congratulatory instagram post from Lewis that leans a little into fond, George’s reply’s back that seems just as affectionate. Fans chalk it up to a good teammate relationship until George shows up with Lewis at an event for one of his charities, and more questions swirl about how they ended up so close. They’d probably end up dropping it on everyone in some end of year socials post years after they got married, something about celebrating an anniversary together. They don’t specify which. They’d probably be annoyingly short about the whole thing, tell people as little as possible about how it happened until they’re both retired. It’s such a big story as it is they don’t really need to complicate people’s shouting by adding confusion about timelines and team politics. If George is asked about it while racing, he’d probably say he’s no different than before, it’s just now people know about it. If people tried to pry, he’d shrug and tease them to wait for a future book about it. There probably would be a book some day tbh.

It’s a weird one- I genuinely go back and forth on if they would ever willingly tell anyone, as much as I’ve described this scenario here, I think they’re an equal chance they would just tell absolutely no one until they’re both retired, only to drop it one day with little to no explanation and tell the world that’s all they need to know. They’re both progressively minded and would want to use themselves to further acceptance in their sport, but RB George is so dictated by the trauma he goes through, and that has echo effects. He spent so long isolated and aggressively private despite a veneer of cockiness, I think he would find that hard to move from from the need to keep himself to himself, and Lewis honestly isn’t much different. When you’ve had your entire life paraded across a stage to be criticised, there’s part of you that wants some things to stay yours and yours alone, and after all they’ve both achieved, I can see how they don’t really want their relationship to be put infront of that.

Toto and Susie

George and Toto is such a complicated dynamic in this au, for so many reasons. For one, Toto doesn’t half paternally raise him through his formative years, when they meet and begin to interact properly, George is Toto’s shiny new driver he’s not sure what to make of, because Lewis essentially coached Toto into choosing him.

Toto is shrewd and business minded when he’s not letting his heart rule his head, and he doesn’t have any kind of bond with George to do that. He treats George similarly to how he likely treated Valtteri at first, he’s looking for someone who falls in line and doesn’t fight or cause problems with the team, to set them up and maybe win a few times till they find some future champions material- Toto doesn’t necessarily think George isn’t, but he doesn’t really know what to make of George. He shows up with two wins under his belt and some sparks of potential that could be gold dust, or they could just be light catching water. He has to be realistic no matter how much Lewis throws his weight behind George.

George doesn’t fare much better when it comes to being approachable. He is, for lack of a better word, traumatised by how Horner treated him like a beloved team member and then a pig for slaughter the second he faltered. Marko was even worse, George is used to being berated for any kind of car damage, or having his seat threatened if he fumbled more than one race in a row. The first time George has a horrible session and qualifies low, he probably has to stave off a panic attack. He’s trying to be strong and capable, trying not to act like a fragile wuss, but a cloying part of him is terrified the rugs going to be pulled from under him again, and then he’s truly fucked bc Red Bull would demote him, but Merc might fire him, and he’d have no one.

George is a good liar, Red Bull made him one, but he’s not that good, Lewis would probably drag him aside for a chat, try to reassure him sessions are shit sometimes and Lewis has had plenty of bad ones, the team doesn’t care as long as he’s trying, but for a guy like George that doesn’t really help much, even as he tries to fake a grin and wave Lewis off. That’s probably when Lewis would have to step in and speak to Toto himself.

I don’t want to set a precedent of Lewis fixing George’s problems, because George very much has independence a lot of the time, but this early after the move, George is handling a lot, and not wanting to really talk about any of it for fear of losing it all again. Toto knows some of why George split from redbull, he has to to even consider hiring him, but he’s not especially aware of how George ended up in that situation, how quick the switch up was, how deeply that fear sits in George’s gut. Lewis can’t share all of that, but he can fill in some of Toto’s gaps with what George has told him, and at least point out that when he’s comfortable, just how fucking fast George is.

With that knowledge I can see Toto developing a kind of softness for George, and at least attempting to learn more. He might ask to meet with George a little more in brackley, ask him about his history, and point out they’re not going to fire him over a shitty result or two, he’s not Christian. Toto’s bluntness would be… comforting to George, it may be harsh at times but he knows Toto doesn’t really seem to care to lie to him about it. He tells George bluntly about what they don’t want him to do, and well, George can work with that.

There’s probably also a time Toto tells George that Mercedes intended to offer him a junior seat, but by the time they’d got a contract drafted, George had signed with Redbull. George probably goes slightly white at that, and when probed, will try to say ah well, can’t change the past, all while sounding like he desperately wants to. Susie probably slaps Toto for that one.

I think with time George and Toto would build their own rapport. George learns to relax and tease Toto with maybe a little less ease than Lewis, and Toto learns George will always laugh when he insults Horner, and that part of George is still a kid who grew up too fast and could still use some praise. Toto has three kids, he can do that. George won’t ever say he needs it, but he might lean a little harder on Toto after a mechanical DNF when Toto tells him it’s not his fault, and he gets more comfortable grabbing Toto for a celebratory hug when they do win. The trust takes a long time to develop, it’s a little less paternal than in real life, but it is there. Toto is an authority figure George doesn’t have to be quite as terrified of.

As for Susie, I think George would like Susie a LOT. Lewis loves her, it’s an easy introduction. She’s a smoother voice than her husband and even if George isn’t Scottish, it feels closer to being home, the same ways Lewis does. Susie has whip fast whit and an energy about her that just makes people relax, and George is no different, he likes when she visits the team and always gets a good laugh out of him. George particularly would enjoy watching her and Lewis poke and tease each other, she’s known Lewis so long her quips dig deep, and that’s particularly hysterical to George

Maternal is difficult for George- she’s forever linked to Toto and it’s hard to forget that, so that keeps George at some distance. But she’s also so very different, and when Toto invites him and sometimes Lewis over to their home in Oxford, she’s always the one to greet him at the door and welcome him in. Susie knows all about hostile team environments and would probably happily insult Redbull with a glee and ruthlessness that would make George choke but actually relax a bit. George wouldn’t be caught dead calling her a maternal figure any day, but if he finds Susie’s presence eventually relaxing, that’s between him and God.

[zepskies]

God I love morning spice. 🫠❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 This chapter opening was so very delicious, but also such a good turn narratively here:

You laughed knowingly. “Colter’s not gonna back down, is he?” “No, I don’t think he is. Can’t let him do this alone,” Russell sighed, torn between his dreams and his duties. “Look, wherever you lead, I’ll follow, okay?” you assured him and pressed a loving kiss to his lips, sealing your promise. “But you and me are not separating again. ‘Sides, you guys are gonna need my help. You know my real superpower is a keyboard.”

I like the idea of her being their support, helping them through clearance obstacles and such. But most importantly, she and Russ working together and grounding one another instead of having him be aimless, twisting in the wind. 💓

He chuckled between your tits, a deep hum against your ribcage. “No, they’re definitely not, sweetheart.” He pecked your collarbone and glanced up at you with a grin as your fingers carded through his long hair – you supposed you could get used to it. “But, uhm–,” he bit his lip, grin widening underneath it, “–they’re about to be damn clogged. Hold on!” You squealed and laughed as he disappeared underneath the covers.

lmfaoo I can't with him! But girl yes, I love the midlife crisis beard and the Sam hair -- it's a strong look.

He’d shown up this morning disguised as a plumber, a wide, pearly-white grin on his face when he stood on the porch and said to you, “Heard there’s some clogged pipes in this house, ma’am?” While you had almost killed him with a single look, Russell had chuckled under his breath and appreciated the joke. The guy only had an hour to get the appropriate outfit – that took some goddamn dedication.

Noooooo I'm DEADDD!! 🤣🤣 Manny's got jokes for real. lmao I'm surprised she didn't set him ablaze with her eyes right there. 😝

Russell shifted, the glint in his eyes sharp and calculating. “You think you can still play the game, huh? Get out of this? Newsflash, Congressman – you’re already too deep. Take the deal.”

Ooh I sense we're not just talking about the Congressman here...

Russell crouched down to meet her gaze, trying to keep his emotions in check. She was only two – so small. He didn’t want to overwhelm her or scare her or freak her out by being the weird, strange man who sobbed in her front yard.

Dear God, his reunion with his kids was so heartbreaking and wholesome at the same time. I absolutely loved every moment of it. 🥹🥹

And the ending really does feel like the start of something good for him and his family, Colter included with getting a new lead on Ashton's murder. I'd love to read more about these two in the future, in sequel form! And I'm sure the prequel is gonna be amazing as well. 💜

The Exit Strategy – Part 5

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language & implied/light smut, fluff, angst, the darkness of the CIA, death threats, blackmail, mentions of murder & torture, psychological warfare, feels, Dad!Russell

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: We have reached the end of yet another series! Although, as the title of this chapter suggests, this is more of a start than an end 😉

Can't wait to see you all back for the prequel! Big thank you for all your sweet comments throughout this 🥹🩵

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 5: This Is a Start

Half-awake, you inhaled deeply, his scent – earthy notes of pine, oakmoss, and agar wood – clinging to every air molecule that flowed into you and filled your bloodstream till your entire body was made of nothing but him.

You could feel the sunlight on your skin, even though your eyes were closed. But it wasn’t what gave you warmth at that moment. If you concentrated hard enough, you could feel his heartbeat against your spine, feel the breaths of his shallow snores brush the shell of your ear and reach down to your neck, and you remembered all the mornings where you’d felt exactly like this.

Calm, safe, loved. Because you were with him.

You’d missed those mornings. And the nights. And the… everything.

You rolled in his arms, and your eyes opened, searching for his face. The freckles on his skin almost glistened golden in the tangerine glow of dawn. You dipped your head and caught his plush lips, kissing him awake.

When his palm snuck to your cheek, covered it fully, and pulled you closer, the kiss turned heated rather quickly when your tongue slipped inside his mouth. His hands gripped you tightly and dragged you on top, your legs straddling him as you felt his hardness between your thighs.

“I forgot you do that,” he said against your lips, pleasantly amused.

“Forgot, huh?” Smirking teasingly, you kissed down the scruffy column of his throat till your lips pressed against his spacious chest. He groaned lowly underneath you, nose nuzzling in the crook of your neck as his hands explored your soft curves.

Russell’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, focusing on the blinking red light in the air vent. He chuckled slightly when your hands keenly moved further south. “Don’t you think we’ve already given them enough of a show?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, laughing, and mischievously rolled your eyes. “What’s one more tape at this point?”

“You’re probably right.” Russell laughed softly and placed several kisses on your crown before dragging you fully into his embrace.

With a blissful sigh, you rested your head on top of his beating heart and closed your eyes for a moment. Why couldn’t the two of you just stay here forever?

But then you felt the springs of the uncomfortable mattress again and groaned. You missed your own bed. You missed your house, your kids, and your husband. You missed your own goddamn wardrobe – your own life.

“God, I can’t wait to get home. Just be with you and the kids,” you murmured against his skin. A smile rose on your lips as you glanced up at him. “I like this retirement plan of yours.”

“Yeah? You think we can swing it? Get out for good?” Russell asked, his conversation with Colter last night running on a loop. You took note of the unsureness in his voice. “I think you might have been right. Maybe I can’t retire just yet until I’ve finished this thing.”

You laughed knowingly. “Colter’s not gonna back down, is he?”

“No, I don’t think he is. Can’t let him do this alone,” Russell sighed, torn between his dreams and his duties.

“Look, wherever you lead, I’ll follow, okay?” you assured him and pressed a loving kiss to his lips, sealing your promise. “But you and me are not separating again. ‘Sides, you guys are gonna need my help. You know my real superpower is a keyboard.”

Russell chuckled, his fingers caressing mindless circles on your spine. “Sure you can leave the field for good? I mean, you’ve had a desk job before. What’s different this time?”

You grinned at him. “I finally found my anchor.”

Russell laughed, the sound vibrating against your ribs. “Well, I hate to drag you down, sweetheart.”

You giggled, placing another kiss to his collarbone. “You’re not. You’re tethering my ship to the ground during storms. I’d like to think there’s a difference.”

“Wow, very poetic for a Radiohead fan,” Russell teased you.

“Hey!” Laughingly, you lightly slapped his chest.

“When did we see them again? 2008? That was a good show…” Russell hummed with a smirk curving his lips. You knew he was thinking less about the band and more about the little fun adventure he had with you in the restrooms of Madison Square Garden.

“Uh-huh, I’m sure it was for you. Your head didn’t bang repeatedly against the flusher,” you retorted, causing Russell to laugh so deeply that tears stung his eyes. As his laughs rippled out, your gaze wandered to the clock – 6:24 AM. “Colters gonna be here soon.”

“Almost forgot how much I haven’t missed this…” Russell groaned exhaustively in response, causing you to quirk a brow in amusement.

“Excuse me?”

“No, not you. Not this,” he quickly assured you, chuckling. He kissed you deeply and rolled on top of you, his large and strong body covering yours entirely, muscular arms caging you in on both sides. You giggled underneath him, your fingers tracing his tattoo on his bicep as you gazed up at him. “But you do realize I have to get dressed, sneak outta the house, only to ring the doorbell on said house a second later.”

Your lips rose to a broad and teasing grin. “Yeah, isn’t it fun?”

Russell laughed and kissed you again. “I don’t know why I bother. Are you guys even being watched?”

“Probably not,” you admitted. The congressman wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and was clueless beyond belief. His associates seemed to be none the wiser as well, although they were being naturally careful. “But we still have neighbors, though.”

If your enemies were careful, so were you.

Russell scoffed casually. “Operation’s almost over, anyways. Let ‘em think the Christian housewife is knocking boots with some hot, rugged plumber or somethin’…” He mumbled the last words into the slope of your neck, his hands keenly trailing down your frame.

“Or somethin’,” you repeated and giggled as his beard tickled your skin. He interlaced his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head. “You know, my pipes aren’t broken.”

He chuckled between your tits, a deep hum against your ribcage. “No, they’re definitely not, sweetheart.” He pecked your collarbone and glanced up at you with a grin as your fingers carded through his long hair – you supposed you could get used to it. “But, uhm–,” he bit his lip, grin widening underneath it, “–they’re about to be damn clogged. Hold on!”

You squealed and laughed as he disappeared underneath the covers.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, mingling with the sizzling sounds of bacon on the stove that Russell was preparing. He watched you and his brother from the corner of his eye, Manny and Tom discussing strategies as they crouched over their laptops on the island.

His old friend had shown up shortly after the Shaws had arrived. Russell had met his younger brother in the driveway with the broadest grin, to which Colter only quipped he didn’t look like he’d slept a lot – and he hadn’t. Three years was a long fucking time…

His grin widened again as he thought about it before he felt the nudge in his ribs from your elbow.

“Upstairs brain, Russell,” you reminded him with a playfully scolding tone and hid your own saucy grin behind your coffee mug.

Twenty years, and Russell still had no fucking clue how you always knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Best we go in tonight,” Manny said in his blue overalls that read Jesus on the name tag on his right chest. He’d shown up this morning disguised as a plumber, a wide, pearly-white grin on his face when he stood on the porch and said to you, “Heard there’s some clogged pipes in this house, ma’am?”

While you had almost killed him with a single look, Russell had chuckled under his breath and appreciated the joke. The guy only had an hour to get the appropriate outfit – that took some goddamn dedication.

“We’re just gonna knock on his door?” Colter questioned with an arched brow. There was amusement in his voice. He was waiting to hear the real plan.

You set your mug down on the counter and looked up at him, feeling Russell watching from his periphery. He’d told you to sugarcoat as much as possible, well aware that your approach was usually a little more direct.

Russell always carefully eased people into the frigid water, while you… well, you pushed them. Hard.

“Let me ask you this, how morally ambiguous are you?” you asked, earning you a somewhat chiding look from your husband.

“Uhm, some,” Colter replied with a cock of his head and didn’t seem fazed by the question. “Are we breaking in?”

“Yup,” you replied simply. “His wife is staying with her mother in North Carolina for two weeks. He’ll be home around eight. We’re gonna wait for him in his study. I need you and Russ to occupy his security detail. It’s just two guys, former law enforcement. You should be fine. Manny and I are gonna help, but we need you to stay with them and keep an eye out at the entry points for other surprises.”

“Alright.” Colter gave you a nod. “So, what end result are you aiming for here? I’m guessing you guys aren’t arresting him.”

Clever, you thought. Like his older brother, Colter had a gift of reading between the lines.

“The goal is to recruit him as a double agent and get him to turn on his associates, so we’re gonna show him a few things and hope he comes to the right decision,” you said and took a sip of your coffee. Fucking sugarcoating…

“You’re gonna blackmail him,” Colter deduced but still didn’t seem shocked to his core.

You really should stop judging Shaws by their pretty covers…

“Yes.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Musingly, you pursed your lips, feeling Russell’s eyes narrowing at you. The pause wasn’t caused by a lack of answers, however, but by contemplating how you could possibly package the term torture and kill with a nice bow and wrapping paper.

“Do the words ‘extraordinary rendition’ mean anything to you?” you asked and instantly heard Russell tossing the spatula aside to throw you a full look this time.

“That’s what you call goddamn sugarcoating?” Russell cocked a brow at you.

You offered him a shrug. “Literally no good way of saying that, Russ.”

Colter chuckled. “You guys don’t have to sugarcoat on my behalf. My sympathy for the guy is pretty low.”

“That’s what I said!” you pointed out, sharing a look with Russell.

“Just out of curiosity, though, how exactly do you plan to-…” Colter tried to find the right words. “I mean, he’s a congressman.”

“Ah.” You knew what he was getting at – a public figure would probably be missed. But another glance at your husband made you think twice and poke the insides of your cheeks before answering that one honestly. “How about you guys just focus on the guards and let us worry about the rest?”

Russell seemed pleased with your answer for once, although you could tell Colter was itching to prod further. However, he decided to change tune instead.

“So, what was Russell like when you met him?” Colter asked, a both curious and teasing smile grazing his face.

“I don’t think we need to talk about that,” Russell tried to deflect with an awkward chuckle.

“Ah, well… weird,” you replied tongue-in-cheek.

“Thank you?” Russell furrowed his brow at you, but you could tell he found your answer rather amusing and agreed with that assessment.

“Little nervous,” you added playfully.

“You made me nervous,” Russell emphasized and muttered into his coffee, “Not like we met in a traditional setting…”

You snorted a laugh. “I used to call him Ducky because he kept following me around everywhere.”

Colter tried his hardest to stifle his laugh upon Russell’s glare.

“Oh, he was so cute,” Manny chimed in with his signature grin. “Shoulda seen him when he walked into that safe house on that first day, man. With his little babyface and heart eyes.”

Exasperatedly, Russell threw his arms up and looked at his little brother intently. “Alright, don’t listen to them. None of that is true. You know they lie professionally, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re lying, Russ,” Colter deadpanned.

Manny and Tom then excused themselves to the basement, leaving you alone with the two Shaw brothers.

“So, what exactly made Russell weird in your eyes?” Colter leaned forward on the counter, an amused smile tugging at his lips, unbothered by the deepening of his brother’s frown.

“I don’t think we need to get into that…”

“Well…” you mused, ignoring your husband’s protests, too. “It was just little things, honestly. He was a bit, uhm…”

“Reclusive?” Colter offered.

You tilted your head in surprise. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. How did you know?”

“Don’t,” Russell warned as soon as Colter started to part his lips.

“Do,” you encouraged, much to Russell’s chagrin.

“Well, uh, that was our dad’s nickname for him,” Colter replied with a bit of hesitance.

“Huh,” you uttered, sipping on your drink. “Never heard that story before…”

“Alright, are you two done with your little bonding session on my account?” Russell threw both of you a pointed look.

You and Colter raised your hands in surrender, announcing your capitulation.

“For now,” you said, smiling mischievously.

The mansion loomed a few yards away, the sun hurrying behind the suburbs of Washington DC as your team stood in position in the perfectly manicured garden of the estate, hiding among hedges and bushes.

Your eyes scanned the doorways and windows before you heard the soft hiss of your crackling ear piece. “All clear. Eyes on tango. ETA seven mikes.”

“Copy that,” you said and motioned to your team, giving the signal to move toward the house.

You and the guys slipped like shadows to a side entrance, already spying one of the guards. Manny was the first to engage, delivering a strike to the guy’s neck before he dropped silently to the ground. It was always good to have a Marine on your team.

Russell then took out the second guard, zip-tying his hands behind his back before the older Shaw moved the body to the other unconscious guard with Colter’s help.

“Alright, you two stay down here while me and Manny wait for Mueller upstairs in his study,” you said to the brothers before watching Russell exchange a look with the other operative.

“Lemme go with you,” Russell said, but his tone and expression suggested it wasn’t a proposal. He’d go with you, no room for a discussion.

You threw Manny a raised look, but he only held up his palms. “Not getting between this,” he said with a small chuckle.

You blew out a sigh between your lips and gestured wordlessly for your husband to follow you inside.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” you reminded him.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. But I want to.” Russell grinned slyly. “‘Sides, it’s been a while for you.”

He was right. You’d been hiding behind a screen for the better part of six years. You’d done smaller interrogations in the safety of a CIA building, but not something like this – something that forced you to use the more brutal tools of your skill set.

Your faith in an institution you once had heavily believed in was already dwindling before you’d become a mother. Each new mission would make you doubt and question the controversial means to a prophesied end of terror more and more.

You had always followed orders and done as you were told, even when you would quietly disagree. Well, sometimes you had disagreed quite loudly – but you had always believed collateral damage was just a necessary sacrifice for the greater good.

Duty, honor, and country.

But did you really ever make a difference?

And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.

Funny sometimes how the CIA harped on unveiling the truth but kept more secrets themselves than a magician’s hat.

When did you become part of the problem?

Russell looked at you as if he knew what you were thinking – he probably did. He always did. No matter what lurked in the dark, he had your back, whether it was to protect you or to ground you when all of it came crashing down.

Maybe you should’ve dipped out with Russell years ago when you still had a chance to do something else with your life. When you’d first started dating. When you’d had a massive fight on that first Thanksgiving, which turned to love confessions before the night had ended.

You should’ve asked him to get out with you, then. Figure out your new life together. Instead, you’d asked him to come to Pakistan with you, he’d said yes, even though you’d seen the hesitance in his eyes, and you’d spent the next six years in the Middle East together.

You’d almost gotten out again when the two of you got married. You’d settled on the outskirts of Vegas, rented a nice house, and worked a somewhat steady job at Homey Airport north of the city. Russell worked as a security guard there, and you helped with research for… stuff.

You both would agree that it had been your first real home together. There was routine and familiarity and quietness and expectancy in a good way.

And then, just like now, carrot.

You were pulled back in, and Russell followed like your canary in a mine shaft. It was a never-ending circle you couldn’t seem to escape from.

Back then, you’d been scared of the future. You’d only known him for two months and the two of you had already been through hell together before you realized you loved him. But you didn’t want to toss aside all your beliefs and ambitions for him. Now, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

Wherever you lead, I’ll follow…

For tonight, though, Russell still followed you – up the stairs and into a naughty congressman’s study.

Russell lurked against the wall behind the door; you sat comfortably on the big leather couch in front of the fireplace and had poured yourself a whiskey. You emptied it by the time a car’s headlights flashed across the wood-paneled walls as it veered into the garage.

“You look very hot in that tactical gear, by the way,” you teased Russell, who only punished you with a scolding look. But you could tell by the slight grind of his teeth and the deepening crinkles around his green eyes that it certainly had the desired effect on him. He’d probably do you on this couch right now if it hadn’t broken his concentration.

Not long after, the office door swung wide open, flooding light from the hallway into the dark study. Mueller flipped on the sideboard lampshade in the room, his eyes still studying a stack of letters in his hands before his gaze lifted and found you.

His head tilted to the side, brows firmly creasing above the bridge of his nose, eyes narrowing. “Mrs… Laurier?”

Different hair, different eyes, full tactical gear – you didn’t blame the man for doing a double-take.

“Okay, let’s cut the bullshit,” you said as you rose from your seat and sauntered to the bar, pouring him a glass of whiskey. “I know about your friends. I know what you’ve been doing.”

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, Mrs. Laurier, but I’d like to ask you to leave my house right now.”

You snorted a laugh at his denial. “No.”

“No one’s leaving, buddy,” Russell said and gently pushed the door shut behind the man.

Mueller startled when he realized there was another person in the room besides you, his eyes warily assessing your husband’s tall and broad stature. “Who is this?”

“None of your concern if you sit down and have a chat with me, Congressman,” you said nonchalantly and motioned to the matching couch opposite you.

With a swallow and a glance over his shoulder at Russell, Mueller reluctantly took a seat and downed the whiskey in front of him.

“Refill?” Russell offered kindly, to which the older man only nodded before your husband gave him a rough pat on the shoulder as he strolled to the bar.

“I’m a congressman. You can’t do this to me! There will be dire consequences for you both and whoever else is involved in this,” he threatened with a losing hand.

“Oh, I know you’re a congressman, but who am I?” you asked and leaned forward with a scrutinizing look.

His eyes averted to the carpeted floor for a moment before he swallowed. “You’re CIA,” he realized.

“Good job! Got the first one right,” you taunted with a smile. You sounded like fucking Ms. Rachel whenever your kids got a color right. “And do you have an inkling why we might be here?”

He swallowed thickly once more, nodding. “I do.”

“Very good, buddy,” you praised. “See? This is easy, right? No need to be nervous. We just wanna know some things about your friends and were wondering if you could help us.”

He thought for a moment, letting his head hang before he met your eyes. “I’m not saying anything without my lawyer.”

“Wrong answer. You’re not under arrest,” you said, your mask of the friendly Christian housewife fully falling now. “You think I give a shit about the Department of Justice? They’re concerned with overcrowding prisons with criminals. The CIA’s job is to neutralize threats to national security. What are you right now, Mr. Mueller?”

Judging by the slight twitch of his face, he seemed to know exactly which one he was. “You can’t kill me! You’re operating on US soil!”

“Oh, we can always arrange a plane,” you said casually and got up from your seat once more. This time, you ambled to the massive oak desk and rummaged through the second, left-side drawer. “How do like Eastern Europe this time of year? Ever been?”

“You know, most people don’t know this, but Bulgaria has some really nice beaches along the Black Sea. I mean, not that you’re ever gonna see any of them, but we could go,” Russell played along, shooting you a cheeky smile before his attention returned to Mueller. “So, what d’you prefer? Handcuffs or zip-ties? You know what? I’m gonna go with the zip-ties. Still might need the cuffs for later.”

He shot you a wink. You chided him with a raised brow.

“I’m a congressman, for crying out loud! Don’t you think people are gonna notice when I disappear?” Mueller protested, shaking in his seat with a fuming red head.

No wonder the guy had a heart problem.

“Ha! Found it!” You emerged victoriously with a rattling pill bottle. “Eight o’clock. Time for your heart medication, right? How about we do two for two? Two pills for two wrong answers?” As you sat down again, you were studying the fine print on the label. “Huh. Not more than 3 in 24 hours,” you mumbled the inscription and gave the graying man a shrug. “Should be fine then. Take them.”

Russell subtly adjusted his shoulder strap, causing the M4 he had slung around to rattle before he took out his butterfly knife and began to play with it like he was bored. Mueller watched him with unease in his eyes and tension in his shoulders before he stared you down with a glare, defiantly popping both pills into his mouth and pouring them down with more whiskey.

“You’re right. We can’t put a bullet in you, but obviously, there are other, more natural ways,” you said and shook the orange bottle in your grasp once more. “Probably could even make it look like a suicide. Especially after you feared your poor wife would leave you when she found out you were fucking your secretary for months. Very original, by the way,” you said smugly. “But that would surely flush your political career down the shitter.”

“Yeah, no offense, but you’re no Clinton, buddy. Can’t pull it off,” Russell quipped.

“What do you want?” Mueller finally asked through gritted teeth. His voice was calmer, but his brow was still densely folded.

You were close to breaking him – you could feel it with your spidey senses.

“We need you to keep doing exactly what you’re doing, but with a little… extra homework,” you explained and gifted him a small smile. “Instead of going back to your cozy mansion after every meeting with your friends, you will meet with one of us afterward and tell us everything. And I do mean everything. Who they are, where they are, what they’re planning and when. If one of them takes a shit and you see it, you better fucking tell us. Understood?”

“Are you insane?” the man gasped in upset, eyes wide in horror. And then, his political façade finally crumbled, too. “If they find out I’m working with the fucking CIA, they’re gonna fucking kill me! You’re sending me like a pig to a goddamn slaughterhouse!”

You pursed your lips, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah…”

“What she means is, we don’t really care ‘cause you wanted to blow up little kids,” Russell clarified and stared daggers at the cowering man from above.

“Yeah.” You grinned almost sadistically at the congressman. “We’re also gonna bug you every time, so really, you’re more like a stuffed Christmas goose.”

“It wasn’t even my idea,” Mueller argued, and you would’ve almost snorted if you hadn’t been so angry at his lie.

“Oh, that is a big one,” you said and pulled out your phone, playing a recording for him.

“Yeah, I made a deal with them, but it was my idea in the first place to target the mall. If they want all the files and blueprints, they better be prepared to pay me more…”

“Do I need to play more?” you asked with an arched brow, receiving a meek shake of the congressman’s head in return. He looked like a lectured school boy in front of you. “How about two more pills for that fucking lie, huh?”

You shook two more out of the bottle and into your palm, offering them to him. He took them wordlessly, but the boiling look in his eyes was surely plotting to kill you.

“By the way, your secretary is one of ours,” you noted provocatively. “Probably should look for a new one. I’m guessing she’s gonna hand in her resignation by tomorrow.”

Russell quirked a brow at that, although he should’ve figured you had more players in the game. Mueller, on the other hand, was quietly simmering in his seat, fists clenching with a crack of knuckles.

“Were you seriously trying to blackmail more money out of terrorist organization?” Russell cocked a brow at the man. “How stupid are you? You know they would’ve just killed you after and taken the money back, right?”

“It’s what I would’ve done,” you agreed without a drop of sympathy. “And they’re also gonna kill you when your career as a congressman goes south. You think they’ll just keep you alive with all that knowledge and no use?”

“Sounds to me like you don’t have a lot of choices,” Russell pointed out.

“But look, if you work with us, we’ll make it worth your while,” you said and hated saying it. You didn’t want to pay that asshole a single dollar, much less a few million. “You keep working with them, and they’ll kill you. If we out your little extra-marital secret, your career ends, and they’ll kill you. And yeah, if you work with us and they find out, they’ll kill you, too. But at least your wife won’t be homeless, poor, and utterly destroyed by what you did. Be a good husband and serve your fucking country. And maybe, by some goddamn miraculous stroke of luck, you’ll even survive this and crawl out of the hole you dug – unscathed.”

Mueller’s eyes darted from you to Russell, his demeanor shifting between fury and fear. He ground his jaw, surely trying to think of an exit strategy. His throat tightened, sweat gathering along his salt and pepper hairline before it ran down the back of his neck. He struggled to swallow the bitter truth you were offering him.

Well, it might have been the four heart pills, too.

Russell shifted, the glint in his eyes sharp and calculating. “You think you can still play the game, huh? Get out of this? Newsflash, Congressman – you’re already too deep. Take the deal.”

“You want two more pills to help you make a decision?” you offered and tilted your head with a cold smile.

“Jesus Christ, you two are sick,” Mueller muttered, the words thick with venom, but there was no real strength behind them.

“No, just doing our jobs,” you said, your voice low and steady, even when his words hit you like a Mack truck. “And you should do yours.”

Russell placed the pill bottle back on the desk with a soft click, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Shoulda made a different choice, buddy. This life? It doesn’t end well for guys like you. Trust me.”

The congressman’s lips trembled before he set them into a thin, defeated line, the cost of his decisions weighing on him. He finished his whiskey, setting the tumbler down, and fixed his tie with the last flickers of arrogance.

“You think you’re heroes? You’re just as dirty as the people you hunt,” he spat.

“Maybe,” you replied honestly, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the creaking leather. “But we’re holding all the cards.”

“I want three hundred million and whatever evidence you have of my affair. Pictures, tapes, everything,” Mueller formed his conditions.

You clicked your tongue and leaned forward, looking into his pathetic eyes. “No,” you said bluntly. “You get twenty, which we’ll leave in Clara’s name, we keep everything we have, and you shut the fuck up.”

“Not a big poker player, are ya?” Russell mocked the man with an arch of his eyebrow, shaking his head at the stupidity.

Mueller’s chest heaved, nostrils flaring. A guy like him hated losing more than anything. “Fine. You have a deal, alright? Can you get the fuck out of my house now?”

“Gladly,” you said and rose, joining Russell’s side. “Stay in touch, or we’ll come back.”

“Next visit will be even less friendly,” Russell warned sternly.

The door slammed harshly shut behind you two, rattling the whole house in its core. Then silence engulfed you as you descended the stairs, Russell’s footsteps echoing in sync with yours as the weight of your choices settled on your shoulders.

Russell kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you through the house, the occasional flicker of tension running through his jawline. “Good idea about leaving the money for the wife. Didn’t wanna pay that douche a dime.”

You smiled inwardly. “Yeah, me neither…”

Russell nodded his head pensively. “Got a tight leash on him now, but I’d be careful. The guy’s scared… and pissed. He ain’t gonna roll over easy.”

“Well, doesn’t have much of a choice, does he? It’s either that or… well, we both know the other option,” you replied.

Russell gave a small grunt of agreement. “Yeah, well, he might get cold feet. Tell your team to keep their guard up.” His eyes flicked to you for a brief moment, that familiar, concerned look in his gaze. “You okay, sweetheart? You know the asshole was just lashing out. He wasn’t right about us.”

You scoffed quietly under your breath and met his green eyes. “Wasn’t he, though?”

You were tired. Physically and mentally. Tired of the games, tired of the constant shifting between light and shadow, good and evil.

Russell grabbed a hold of your hand, pulling you to a stop. He sent you a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear that had escaped the tight ponytail. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Talk to me.”

As you gazed up at him, the walls cracked a little, starting to come down for the first time since the start of the mission. You released a slow breath. “This constant war. It never ends. It just… drags you back in, over and over. And for what? So we can keep pretending we’re the good guys? All this lying, manipulating, and hurting people for a cause we don’t even understand anymore. We were supposed to be better than this.”

Russell sighed, scratching his jaw. “Sweetheart, you know we didn’t exactly sign up to be saints. The world isn’t black and white. I mean, hell, you’re the one who told me that twenty years ago.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was wrong,” you muttered bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I don’t think you were,” Russell said, an arm around your shoulder pulling you to his frame.

“I used to believe I was making a difference. That we were doing something important, that we were saving lives. But maybe I’m just another cog in the machine, and the machine doesn’t care who it runs over,” you said, the lump in your throat growing.

Something cracked open inside you, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself feel the truth of what you and Russell had been through. The toll it had taken on both of you. The sacrifices. The scars.

Russell’s lips pursed, not answering right away. Instead, he squeezed you a little tighter in his embrace and pecked the top of your head. “Well, you always made a difference to me,” he replied and offered you a warm smile. “Small wins, baby. We’re not stopping wars, but we’re still saving people. How many frequent that mall in December, huh?”

“About 200,000 a day,” you replied and knew where he was going with this.

“See? That’s not even a small win. That’s a big win, sweetheart,” Russell said almost exuberantly, trying to get you out of that dark corner in your mind.

“They don’t even know about it.”

“Yeah, so? We know this is an ugly, ungrateful job. Kinda like parenting,” Russell retorted. You narrowed your eyes a little at him, amusement poking your dimples. “‘Sides, everyone goes home and can sleep in their beds safe and sound, none the wiser. Isn’t there beauty in that?”

“Look at you, getting philosophical in your old age,” you teased. But you gave him a few nods of your head. “One step at a time?”

“One step at a time,” Russell agreed, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand as he brought them to his lips.

“Everything go alright?” Colter’s voice broke the quiet as you walked through the side entrance and reached the garden.

“Yup, folded like an old lawn chair,” Russell replied.

Colter gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”

“Everything go okay down here?” you asked, lifting a brow. By Manny’s expression you could tell he had fun with the younger Shaw.

“Everything went fine, chiquitita.” Manny sent you a pearly-white grin.

“Yeah, while we waited, Manny told me some crazy stories about you guys. Learned a lot,” Colter quipped with a sly smile.

“Oh God…” Russell huffed exhaustively, rolling his eyes back. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

He tugged you closer under his arm, the four of you strolling down the lawn and back to the van.

“What about Pastor Jeff?” Colter then asked, glancing at his brother.

Russell nodded, his hand instinctively diving into his pocket and fumbling with the handful of heart pills inside. “Don’t you worry about that. Already figured something out…”

The overgrown front yard of the blue suburban home was bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, Russell already noting down his first chore – getting the lawn mower out. His fingers fidgeted nervously in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his heels.

You’d taken the first flight out to Philadelphia this morning to pick up the kids. They’d spent the summer with their aunt and uncle on a farm there and apparently had a blast.

And, well, Russell’s heart had been hammering nonstop since he’d dropped you off at the airport. He racked his brain for hours but still didn’t know what to expect. His nerves jittered at the mere thought of seeing them, blood bubbling through skin with a mixture of exhilaration and uncertainty.

A new adventure. A fresh start.

A soft breeze stirred the leaves of the oak tree at the corner of the yard. And then, your car came into view and stopped a few houses down. A small kid jumped eagerly out the backseat, then stopped with a heavy sigh in the driveway of a neighbor’s house as you yelled something through the open passenger’s side window.

Russell watched the scene with smile till the heaviness settled back into his chest. His breath halted, thundering heartbeat filling his ears. His son had gotten so… big. The guilt came crashing back like a hurricane.

You parked the car in the driveway by your house then, fighting a second with your daughter’s seatbelt. As you sat her down, her big, googly eyes already spied the stranger in her yard.

Russell kept his distance – or he was frozen in shock. You weren’t quite sure.

Clutching your pointer finger, Amelia eagerly dragged you a few steps through the long grass that was blooming with a rainbow of wildflowers. She halted a foot short of her father, a man she had never known or seen before. Her hand then let go of your finger and held onto your leg instead, halfway hiding behind it with a shy smile. In quiet curiosity, she tilted her head and swayed from side to side, a small finger tucked into her mouth as she studied the man in front of her.

Russell crouched down to meet her gaze, trying to keep his emotions in check. She was only two – so small. He didn’t want to overwhelm her or scare her or freak her out by being the weird, strange man who sobbed in her front yard.

“Hey, Amelia–,” you knelt down with them, pointing a finger at Russell, “That’s your daddy. Wanna say hi?”

She grinned toothily and nodded, raising her hand quickly once before dropping it back down. “Hi!”

“Hi there, ace,” Russell said, smiling and swallowed the gigantic fucking lump in his throat. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

“Ace?” You quirked a brow in amusement. “Russ, she’s two, not shooting down enemy aircraft.”

“I like it,” he retorted with a playful smirk and then talked straight to his child, “Who says you can’t be an Air Force captain, huh?”

She giggled with full dimples. “Tha’s cute.”

“And here I was worried Lewis was gonna be like us,” you joked.

“Lewis? Nah.” Jesting, Russell shook his head with a doubtfully creased brow and looked back at Amelia. “Your brother’s gonna be a doctor, right? ‘Cause we finally need a medic in this family, especially with future Ms. General of the Air Force here. Isn’t that right? Earhart’s got nothing on you, ace.”

“You silly,” your daughter uttered your exact thoughts, giggling. “You play?”

“Oh, I’d love to. What do you wanna play with me?” Russell agreed happily, his eyes shimmering brightly green in the sunlight, the crinkles around them more prominent due to his wide smile. Your heart might as well have exploded from its sheer swelling in your ribcage.

Your daughter contemplated for a moment, pursing her lips. “I make cake!” she announced and then kept babbling incoherently in Amelia language.

“Oh, wow, you’re going to bake me a cake? Well, you certainly haven’t gotten that from your mother,” Russell quipped and grinned slyly at you.

“Watch it. Thin ice, Shaw,” you playfully warned him.

“You come?” Amelia looked expectantly up at her father. After airports, planes, and car rides, she was eager to move her little feet.

“Where am I going with her?” Russell blinked at you, and you managed to stifle your amusement at his helplessness.

“Sand box, backyard,” you said, smiling as the two-year-old already tugged him along by his hand.

“Mom! Mom! Have you seen my baseball glove?” Lewis’s voice suddenly pulled you from your momentary trance.

Swiftly, you spun around and saw he was close – too close. He stopped in his tracks as he reached the edge of the lawn. His little brow furrowed, green eyes narrowing at his tiny sister with a stranger at the backyard gate.

But you could tell he recognized his father from the picture on his nightstand, even with the longer hair and beard. His eyes locked on Russell’s face in an instant.

Carefully, you approached him. “Lewis, you okay?”

He nodded slowly but was clearly unsure. Russell was paralyzed for a split second. And then, before anyone could stop him, your son bolted to his father, arms flung wide.

“Dad!”

Russell fell to his knees and opened his arms as his son launched himself into his embrace. He was crying, clutching his father’s neck with all the strength his little frame could muster.

“Hey, trailblazer,” Russell said softly. His chest tightened, his arms wrapping around Lewis as if holding on to everything he had missed. He buried his face in his son’s hair, the scent of him bringing back a flood of memories he’d tried so hard to push away.

“I’ve missed you, Daddy,” his son whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It’s okay. I’m home now, buddy,” Russell said with a smile, comfortingly patting his son’s head.

After they held onto each other for a long moment, Lewis then slowly let go of his father and glanced up at you.

“Is that why you were gone? To get Dad back?”

“Uhm…” Not exactly, you thought, but Russell answered before you could.

“Yeah, your mom thought she’d surprise you,” your husband said, smiling widely. “Is it a good surprise or a bad surprise?”

“Good.” Lewis grinned broadly, but then a little drop of doubt entered his mind. “Are you staying?”

“Oh, there’s nothing that can tear me away again from you, trailblazer,” Russell assured the little boy. "I promise, okay?"

“You wanna play catch with me?” Lewis asked him then, and you could tell Russell had never heard better words in his life, including your ‘I do.’

“Let’s do it!” Russell agreed and opened the gate, letting both kids pour into the backyard.

“Glove is in the garage!” you called after them and watched them storm through the yard.

You then noticed a shadow shift in your periphery and glanced at the porch where Colter stood with a smile and a cup of coffee in his hands. Apparently, he had quietly observed the whole scene but refrained from interfering, letting his older brother have his moment with his kids.

Russell was finally back where he belonged.

“Well, I-, uh, I’m gonna head out soon,” Colter said once your eyes met.

You figured he would say something like that. Russell and you had both been surprised he even took you up on your offer to stay one night at the house.

“You're coming back, though, right?” Amused, you arched a brow at the younger Shaw.

His head bobbed with a twitch of his shoulders. “Yeah, sure.”

“Once a month.”

“Well, uh–“

“I’m not asking, Colter. I’m telling,” you said, deadpanning. “You know, I made a digital copy of your phone. You have a lot of female contacts in there…”

Colter’s lips pursed as he blinked at you sideways, half-amused. He quirked a brow. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“Absolutely,” you confirmed and hid your grin behind tight lips.

“Alright, got yourself a deal, sis.” Colter nodded with a caving smile. “So, uhm, there was still something I wanted to ask you…”

Knowingly, you looked up at him. “About your father?”

Russell had already warned you about an approach, knowing his little brother wouldn’t listen to him.

Colter smacked his lips, brows shooting up. “Wow, you are good…”

“Check your glove compartment. Already left a folder there,” you said and smugly folded your arms over your chest. "And yes, I did break into your car."

“Huh.” Colter scratched the nape of his neck. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Consider it a gift from your spook sister-in-law.” You smirked.

If the folder contained the truth, however, Colter would have to discover on his own. Russell might have gone through it with a black marker…

“So, you and Russ are out now? You’re gonna live here?”

“Uh, we’ll see…” You inhaled and exhaled a contemplative breath, your eyes fixed on the quiet, suburban street. Husbands mowed lawns, kids played ball and sold lemonade. “We’ve been talking about moving back to Nevada, maybe. God knows your brother’s been dreaming about a hot tub under the desert sky for ages...” You giggled, shaking your head.

“So, not quite an exit but a start,” Colter concluded.

Smiling softly, you let out a gratified sigh. “Yeah, it’s a start."

The End (for now) ➡️ PREQUEL – Coming Soon!

We've reached the end, but I do plan to pick this up at some point again (in sequel form). Just wanna let the show progress a little with the family drama before I dive back in 😉

Thank you to everyone who has read this story and shared their wonderful thoughts with me! Your feedback is so appreciated!!! Announcement for the prequel will follow soon 🩵

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