#apologies to the like 11 people who follow me

[fleur-alise]

I should really figure out what this whole queue business is

[rafecameronssl4t]

Night out || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: A night out with your boyfriend and Madelyn and waking up to pictures of you and Drew circulating around social media.

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1,591

A/n: Send me drew starkey requests pleaseeeeeee

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Look at you,” Drew says with a playful grin, his eyes tracing every detail of your outfit with admiration. You giggle, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you catch your reflection in the mirror, pleased with your appearance. “What time are we meeting up with Mads again?” you ask, tearing your gaze away from the mirror to glance at Drew as he checks his phone.

“Uh, like right now,” he says sheepishly. Your eyes widen in surprise. “Drew!” you exclaim, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in your voice. Without wasting a moment, you grab your perfume, quickly spritzing it on as you rush to the other room to retrieve your Sambas.

“I feel so bad for making her wait,” you mutter to yourself, hastily tying up your shoes. “It’s fine, babe. The drive is only like five minutes,” Drew reassures you, the keys jingling in his hand. You shoot him a playful glare, your bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout.

“Still!” you retort, a hint of mock annoyance in your voice. With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure everything is in place, you grab your bag and hurry out of your cozy Charleston home, Drew following closely behind.

In the car, you carefully apply a layer of lip gloss, glancing at yourself in the visor mirror. Drew’s hand rests warmly on your thigh as he admires you, his eyes filled with affection. Feeling his gaze linger, you turn to him with a smile. “What?” you ask playfully, catching his eye.

Drew grins, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your inner thigh. “You’re just so pretty,” he gushes, his voice full of admiration. You giggle, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “Thanks, babe,” you reply, your heart fluttering.

~

“I’m so sorry we’re late,” you apologize as you and Madelyn go in for a hug, embracing each other warmly. “No, it’s okay. I was sorta late too,” Madelyn chuckles, pulling away from the hug with an understanding smile. Drew joins in, pulling Madelyn into a hug as well. “Hey Mads,” he greets, smiling down at her. “Hey Drew,” Madelyn replies, pulling away from the hug and smiling up at him.

You three catch up, ordering drinks and food, simply enjoying each other’s company. As the night rolled on, the three of you decided you wanted to walk down the street to your guys’ favourite bar.

It was around 11 at night, and the streets of Charleston were still bustling with a few people. “Wait, I’ll just go to the bathroom,” Madelyn says just as you step outside. “Want me to come?” you offer, concerned. “No, it’s okay, I’ll be quick!” she assures you with a smile as you nod in understanding.

Drew pulls you close to him, his arm wrapping around your waist protectively as you wait for Madelyn to return. “Do we have any choc chips in the fridge?” you randomly ask, looking up at Drew.

“I doubt it, why?” He chuckles as you couldn’t help but smile, “I wanted to make choc chip pancakes in the morning,” You say, “I’ll just buy them tomorrow,” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer. “Thank you,” You smile, going up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips.

“You lovebirds ready?” Madelyn calls out. You and Drew turn your heads toward her, both smiling. A playful grin spreads across your face as you step away from Drew, immediately missing the warmth of Drew. Linking arms with Madelyn, you share a glance. She sticks her tongue out at Drew, who feigns offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart.

Drew walks behind the two of you as you giggle about something Madelyn said. The sight is pretty amusing—how small the two of you look next to him, with Drew towering behind like a protective shadow. It’s almost as if he’s your loyal Doberman, following closely and keeping an eye on his favourite people.

The three of you arrived at the bar and immediately ordered drinks, though Drew opted for just iced water since he was the designated driver. The atmosphere was relaxed and cozy, with only a few people scattered around. After about an hour, Madelyn decided to head out, mentioning her early start the next day.

The bar was nearly empty, the clock inching past midnight, but you and Drew decided to stay. The two of you continued to chat, enjoying the quiet intimacy and the time together. His hand rested on your thigh as you talk about something, his eyes watching your side profile in awe at how lucky he was.

“We ready?” Drew asks, downing the last of his water. You hum in agreement, getting up and thanking the bartender, who returns your smile warmly. With a final glance around the nearly empty bar, you head out into the night with Drew by your side.

~

Waking up, your hand moves across to Drew’s side of the bed, only to find it empty. Lifting your head from the pillow, you catch the faint sound of music coming from the kitchen. Curiosity piqued, you slide out of bed, your feet hitting the cool floor. As you leave the bedroom, Bella, your cocker spaniel, trots up to you, her tail wagging enthusiastically.

You crouch down, scooping her up into your arms, her soft fur warm against your skin. With Bella nestled comfortably, you head towards the kitchen.

Rounding the corner, you spot Drew at the counter, mixing something in a bowl with his back turned to you. “Morning,” you say softly, catching his attention. He turns around, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Mornin’, baby,” he greets, his voice filled with affection. You walk up beside him, and he instinctively wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. Curious, you peer into the bowl.

“You’re making pancakes?” you ask with a smile, looking up at him. Drew grins down at you. “Mhmm, I got the choc chips in the fridge. Could you grab ’em for me?” he asks. You put down Bella, who trots off happily, and head to the fridge to fetch the chocolate chips, feeling a surge of affection for Drew and his sweet gesture.

“I didn’t start them too long ago, so sit down,” Drew says, giving your ass a light pat as you pass by. You lean up to kiss his cheek, “Thank you,” you say warmly before heading to the other side of the kitchen to make your coffee. The aroma of freshly ground beans fills the air as you start the coffee maker, glancing back at Drew, who’s humming along to the music, focused on making the pancakes.

You settle down on one of the kitchen stools, enjoying the comforting warmth of your coffee as you watch Drew mixing the batter . Scrolling through your phone, you’re suddenly interrupted by a FaceTime call from Madelyn.

“Mads is calling,” you inform Drew before answering the call. Maddy’s cheerful face fills the screen as you prop your phone up on the counter. “Hey!” You greet her as she does replies in the same cheerful tone.

“I’m getting my hair and makeup done right now, and I got bored, so I called,” Maddy explains, chuckling as she looks up to let the makeup artist do her eyeliner. “Hey Maddy!” Drew calls out.

“Hey Drew!” she greets back, her voice bright. “What are you doing?” Madelyn questions Drew as you flip the camera around to focus on him. He’s in the middle of flipping a pancake, his expression concentrated yet relaxed. “Making pancakes,” he replies with a smile “Stoppp, you’re making me hungry. I haven’t had breakfast yet,” she groans, letting out a loud sigh.

“Where in Charleston are you? We can drop some off if you want?” you offer, genuine concern in your voice. Maddy smiles gratefully at your kindness. “You’re too sweet, y/n. Thank you, but I feel bad making you drive out to me. I’ll just ask my manager to get an açai bowl or something,” she replies, her gratitude evident. You hum understandingly, appreciating her consideration.

~

After about ten minutes of casual conversation, Maddy brings up something that makes both you and Drew pause mid-chew. "What are you talking about?" you ask as Drew pulls out his phone.

"Are you guys living under a rock? It's all over social media right now. I thought you would've found out last night or at least this morning," Maddy says, sounding surprised.

"No, we haven't been on social media at all since we left the house yesterday afternoon," you explain while Drew opens Instagram and heads to the explore page. Almost instantly, you spot what she's talking about. "Oh, I see it," you say, leaning closer to get a better look at the post.

drewstarkeyupdatez

Liked by 1,947,208 people

Drew and his partner y/n spotted out in Charleston tonight!!

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"Aww, these picture is really cute," you smile, swiping through the images as Drew chuckles beside you. "Oh, and one of the workers at the bar made a TikTok about seeing us there. They even took a photo of you guys from the CCTV camera," Maddy adds, "I'll send you the TikTok too."

(the pic)

With Drew being a well-known celebrity, you're used to pictures of you both popping up on social media. Still, you always enjoy looking at them, finding them wholesome and cute.

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

[bluetooththereptile]

Crimson bride

(Yandere Damian Wayne x twin sister reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Summary: Your life is going to end horribly, your will to live is slipping away, will your only hope come to save you?

Tw: mentions of violence and abuse

The smell of blood and incense had filled the air, your lungs could hardly bear the responsibility of bringing you oxygen under the pressure of your stress, not that they could easily filter the smoke in the air anyway. It felt like the air was on fire, with each breath your body shuddered slightly, your body could hardly bear the burden of keeping you alert. The beads of sweat slithered down your spine, making the already uncomfortable rags even more unbearable. You were just 11, why were you stuck in a room full of adults in dark long robes...you were not sure...or perhaps you knew what was going to happen, but you didn't know why on earth you were there. You eyed the sacred blade in the hand of the leader of the group, the light of the candles shimmering on its uneven blade, and swallowed your saliva down your throat that now had turned extremely dry. You could already feel the pain in your chest. Dear God, if you hear me...please help!

The dark monks' chants echoed in the chambers, and the puddles of red wax candles under the feet of pillars carved with different images of unholy creatures, seemed like oozing puddles of blood to you, already boiling with crimson liquid of life right out of hell, where they hailed their master from. The veil on your head was thin enough for you to recognize people's faces, well, at least the ones who didn't have a mask on, and your terrified eyes spotted the figure of your grandfather standing behind the leader, himself holding a golden bowl at hand. You gritted your teeth at remembering his words. The memory is still fresh for you, it was just two months ago when he was having a drink with the leader himself in his boudoir, with you present by his side.

"She's a fitting lady Ra's...I give you the credit of having good hereditary genes..." the leader spoke in his smooth voice, his eyes scanning you up and down. You knew how the way he looked at you was inappropriate but you still stayed, holding the tray of drinks, standing by your grandfather's side, if you were going to flinch even for an inch, your mother wouldn't be happy. "She is..." your grandfather hummed, rubbing his chin before he chuckled "What is it old friend? You seem too interested in my child..." the words spoken made your shoulders stiffen slightly, your fingers tightening around the edges of the tray. "I am...but not for what you think...she is too young for marriage for a mortal man..." his smirk grew wider as he continued "But she's at the ripe age for being gifted to our dear lord...she'd make a decent bride..." you could see Ra's hold on his glass of drink tighten, what did his friend mean? Did he want to marry you off to someone? You wondered, but your confusion soon turned into horror as the leader continued "Her heart fits the unholy bowl perfectly" Oh no...you had heard from your nanny that this man was bearer of bad news but this...this was unpredictable! Your head turned to your grandfather to see how he'd respond...please say no, please say no, I've been a good granddaughter...please say no! "What price do you offer?" And with that, your whole world shattered, you felt like life was slipping away from your shell of being as he negotiated the price of marriage, did he...did he just agree on making you a sacrificial lamb?!

You snapped out of your thoughts by feeling the extremely warm hold of the leader on your naked arm as he pulled you away from the corner of the damp room, the metallic chains on your weak ankles clinking loudly as you dragged them on the floor, your feet already bruised by the rough edges of the old tiles on the floor, leaving red trails of blood. He walked you to the alter, your heart skipped as you saw the white dressing of the stone bed, flower petals spread on the surface, how hauntingly fitting for a bridal bed... The man stopped you right before the altar and started chanting in a language you didn't know a word of. But whatever it was, it was working...because the tiles under your feet started to turn unbearably hot, the circles and symbols drawn onto the walls and the floor turned bright red, oh dear God...if you hear me...please help! You had lost your hope a long time ago, but still, you wanted to hold onto a sliver of hope, maybe your grandfather would change his decision at the last minute, or perhaps he would come...but no...how could Damian come to the other side of the world that quickly? He was just a child, like you, sure, he was a capable boy but still, he was just a boy. His words circled in your mind as the priest poured a warm liquid on your body that painted it red, its sweet aroma filling the air, unbeknownst to you, it was a poison that through skin pores penetrated the body and ran into your blood, slowly relaxing your muscles until your heart would stop, this way, if the demons preferred to have your body whole, you'd still be dead. As you felt your skin itch and your vision turn slowly blurry, Damian's voice echoed in your mind "I will come...I promise...I promise!" His voice was filled with determination, but you knew he'd be late. It was already too late...

They helped you lay down on the alter, the wet veil sticking to your face, slowly suffocating you, but you were too weak to move on your own, your eyes were closed, as if the liquid had sealed your eyelashes together, and the voices around you were turning into distant murmurs, your hands limp as they crossed it on your chest. It was too late...and he hadn't held up to his promise...your lips formed a pout, unable to cry, hardly latching onto the task of breathing, your breaths became labored. Soon your chest would be cut open and your warm paralyzed heart would be put into that golden bowl, and then thrown into a fire...you had hoped things would be different, but you knew from the very start, that you were unwanted, and one day, your family would give you up if they have the chance to do so.

Your ears couldn't detect the loud sound of the explosion of the tear gas in the room, how the cult members shouted and pulled out their weapons but were disarmed quickly by the man in black and a few younger ones. You didn't notice them until someone yanked the wet veil from your face and wiped the clotted liquid off of your nose and mouth, putting an oxygen mask on your face "Y/N!" The voice seemed familiar, but you were too weak to respond "Y/N!" He cried for your attention, his trembling hands shaking your shoulders, his voice muffled by his mask, his hold was pushed away from you when you felt a sharp pain on your neck, the detoxing liquid surged in your veins forward by copious amounts, yet you were already unconscious to see your father cry silently as he held your body close to his chest. Poor girl...poor poor girl...he wished he was there sooner.

Your nanny had pulled the small phone behind her apron with trembling hands, she knew your actions had consequences, but she wanted you to feel happy, so she'd do anything in her power to ensure it'd happen. You quickly snatched the phone out of her calloused hands and started to take the number you had repeated over and over in your mind since the moment you had snuck into your mother's study and had found it deep in her files, it was the Wayne Manor's, where your Damian lived with your father. You were separated since birth, him getting most of the attention of your mother, well the one who was to be her weapon, you were too weak to fight from the very first moments you had started to walk, but still, you tried to have a connection with your twin, who even if neglected your attention or bullied you, still felt a twinge of sibling love deep down. It was not until when he was sent to live by his father that Damian had found out how much he dearly loved you, and how much you meant to him. You dialed the number, hearing it slowly beep, one...two...three...you could hear your nervous breaths into the phone, and four "Hello?" You stiffened at hearing Damian's voice, moving your lips to speak but you couldn't, the sheer luck of having him pick up the phone himself was too much! "Hello?!" Damian's voice turned sour with annoyance, you knew he'd hung up quickly so you finally spoke "Hi..."

"Y/N?!" Damian's voice had turned from annoyed into one of surprise and concern, you spoke softly, asking how he had been doing, smiling as he quickly stammered to answer you, but then, when he was rambling on about missing you, you smiled sadly "Hey...I wanted to tell you something..." you interrupted him "Hmm? What is it?" He had asked with curiosity "Please, forgive me if I've done you anything wrong...okay?" "W-wait...Y/N..what do you? What is happening?!" "Grandpa wants to marry me off...to death..." and there was silence, a very uncomfortable silence. "I will come..." his voice was now filled with determination "I will come, I promise!...w-when's is the ceremony?" "Within two weeks-" the phone had slipped off of your hand when your mother's stinging slap met your face, you turned to look at her with wide eyes, trembling as you heard her crush the phone under her feet.

Your eyes opened up to a white light, with warmth surrounding your body. Were you in heaven? You naively asked yourself, but when the pain washed over your body, you knew you were still alive. "Hi..." Damian's voice made you turn your head to his direction at your side, your neck strained from being motionless for too long. He was holding your hand tightly, and your blurry vision could find the outlines of his face in what you could recognize as crying. "Welcome back..." his voice trembled as he sniffled, adjusting the oxygen mask on your face. You blind a few times to make your vision better, still, it felt a little blurry, but you could at least recognize you were somewhere dark, which you'd find out was the Batcave in the future, and Damian was sitting on your side. Your lips curled upwards slightly at how he held your hand to his chest, looking at you affectionately "Sorry I was late..." he spoke softly "But I will make things right from now on, I promise" he promised, and he would do anything in his power to ensure that.

[enzstr]

Only You || K. Bakugo

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

synopsis: starz26708 and Dino.tnt609, two students who first met in an online chatroom. A friendship had flourished between them. With the strong need to meet each other, 6aku.tnt609 slowly gains curiosity regarding the other's identity, which sparked the desire to meet her within him. What could possibly go wrong?

💭: btw, this is inspired from the Chad Michael Murray and Hilary Duff movie A Cinderella's Story!!

author's note: My deepest apologies it took me so long to upload the new chapter!!! I've been having finals and examinations but I'm free now!! New chapter might come out in a few days or a week since it's in my drafts now...

words: 3.7k

Chapter 2: The Two People

Reader's POV

The following day, I sat in my classes, feeling unusually unfocused. I found my thoughts continually returning to the message I had received the night before from my friend, Dino.tnt609. The words and emotions contained in that message had left a powerful and lingering effect on me, making it difficult for me to fully immerse myself in the subjects being taught.

“Please meet me at the school’s party. I’ll be waiting for you at 11:00 in the middle of the dance floor.” 

Those messages had set themselves so deeply into my thoughts that it was as if they were on a constant replay in my mind. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to rid myself of their presence. They continued to resurface, over and over again, like a stubborn memory that refused to be forgotten. The more I tried to dismiss them, the more their contents seemed to linger in my thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside or ignored.

“Y/n, what is the difference between speed and velocity?”

My heart dropped. I have been half-listening, my mind drifting, thinking about the message Dino sent to me—contemplating meeting him, and the school party. But now, I was completely caught off guard. Difference between speed and velocity—the words sounded fuzzy in my head, like fragments of a puzzle I wasn’t sure how to put together.

That was when she noticed him.

Bakugo.

He was sitting at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, hands casually folded behind his head. He was grinning—the kind of grin that wasn’t friendly or supportive. It was the kind of grin that only came when you were sure someone else was about to fail. He’d been watching me for a while now, and I could feel his gaze boring into me. I knew exactly what he was thinking: She wasn’t paying attention. She doesn’t know the answer. This is my chance to look good in front of everyone.

The grin on Bakugo’s face widened ever so slightly, and I could almost hear his internal smirk. He had the confidence of someone who’d aced every test without breaking a sweat, someone who knew how to get under your skin with the smallest of gestures. And right now, his quiet, almost smug enjoyment was aimed directly at me.

My stomach twisted. It wasn’t that I cared about beating Dylan, exactly. But I did care about not looking foolish in front of the class—especially when he was clearly expecting me to fail. The challenge hung in the air, palpable, like an unspoken duel. I could almost hear him thinking, Come on, mess up. Please mess up.

The competitive spark in me flared to life, and in that moment, something shifted inside of me. I wasn’t going to let him get the last laugh. No way.

I straightened up in my chair, eyes narrowing just slightly, and forced myself to focus. I don’t need to know everything, I told myself. I just need to know enough to get this answer right.

My gaze locked back onto the board, and suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to make sense of the question. It was a simple logic question—something I could handle if I stopped panicking.

Mr. Aizawa was still looking at me expectantly, but now I had a plan. I took a steadying breath and spoke, my voice clearer than she felt.

“The difference between speed and velocity lies in their definitions, speed is a scalar quantity, meaning it only describes how fast an object is moving, without any reference to direction. For example, if a car is going 50 km/h, that's its speed.”

Her eyes flicked back to the board, confirming her answer. She could feel the weight of the moment—this was what it was all about. She hadn’t been paying attention before, but she was focused now, and she was going to finish strong.

“Velocity, on the other hand, is a vector quantity. This means it not only describes how fast an object is moving but also in which direction. For instance, if the car is traveling at 50 km/h to the east, its velocity is 50 km/h east. In essence, while speed only tells you the rate of motion, velocity provides both the rate and the direction of motion.”

Mr. Aizawa nodded approvingly. "Exactly, Y/n. Well done."

I felt a small surge of relief, but it wasn’t just the satisfaction of getting the answer right. It was the feeling of having turned the tables, of having taken control of the moment that had threatened to spiral out of my grasp. I glanced over at Bakugo, just as he was about to sit up straighter in his chair. His grin faltered when he saw the glint in my eyes.

And that was all the encouragement Bakugo needed.

I couldn’t help myself. A small, almost mischievous smile curved on my lips. It wasn’t an innocent, pleased-with-herself smile—it was the kind of grin you wore when you knew you’d just pulled something off, when you’d just made someone else realize they’d misjudged you.

Bakugo’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly, the smugness faltering for the briefest of moments. He’d thought I’d fumble. He’d thought I wouldn’t know the answer. But I had shown him, and not only had I known the answer—I said it with confidence, without hesitation.

He looked away first, clearly frustrated, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. I knew that look. He didn’t like losing, even if it was just a small moment, a little victory that nobody else in the room might even notice.

But I noticed. And that was enough for her.

As the class continued, Ellie let herself settle back into her seat, but her mind was sharp, focused, and alive with the thrill of competition. Dylan might have been the golden boy of the class, but today, in this small, unexpected moment, Ellie had beaten him. And for once, it felt really good to smile back at him—just a little bit smug, just a little bit competitive—knowing that he hadn’t seen this coming.

The moment I finished answering the question, I could feel it—a mix of pride and adrenaline coursing through me. I had nailed it, no hesitation, no second-guessing. The class had been quiet after I spoke, the silence hanging in the air before the professor acknowledged my answer. It felt like the eyes of the entire room were on me, but in that instant, I didn’t care. For once, I was the one who had it together.

But then there was the scoff.

I didn’t even need to look at him to know exactly who it was. Bakugo. The ever-present thorn in my side. His chair creaked as he shifted, his eyes narrowing in that way I was so familiar with. He looked almost... irritated, the kind of expression he wore when he thought someone was challenging his spot as top dog in this class. And right now, it was clear that he did not appreciate the fact that I was the one who had answered confidently.

Why does it always have to be him? I wondered, my hands clenched under the desk. I knew it was coming—he was going to find some way to one-up me, to make me feel small for doing something as simple as knowing the answer. I hated how predictable he was, but I hated even more that it affected me so much. I’d never let him see that, though. He had to think I was just as indifferent as he was.

I kept my eyes trained forward, pretending like his irritation didn’t bother me, like I wasn’t still replaying the way he’d looked at me, the way he always tried to put me in my place. It’s just a class. It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. This isn’t real life. This is just some stupid competition.

The bell rang, breaking my thoughts, and the class started to pack up. As usual, Bakugo shoved his things into his bag with that signature smug expression, as if he'd already forgotten the moment I’d answered correctly. He probably wouldn’t give it a second thought, while I would be stewing in it for the rest of the day.

I grabbed my phone, hoping to distract myself. A new message from Dino.tnt 609 popped up. My fingers tapped the screen eagerly, relieved for the sudden shift in focus.

Dino.tnt609: “So, Halloween party tomorrow night.. what do you think? You in?”

I smiled at the message. Dino. He was the one person who could make everything feel lighter, even when things felt heavy. Talking to him always made me feel like I could breathe again after a day of dealing with Bakugo’s constant need to compete. Dino was my escape. He didn’t care about grades or the stupid academic battles I fought with Bakugo every day. He just… gets me.

But then I hesitated. My thumb hovered over the keyboard as I began to type, the excitement of the invite quickly dampened by a twinge of anxiety. The party. It should be fun, right? Just a Halloween party. But the idea of seeing someone in person—someone I had only ever known through texts and memes and game chats—suddenly felt overwhelming. What if I didn’t click with him in real life? What if meeting him was awkward?

But more than that, what if it turned out that the person I was texting with every night was someone I couldn’t stand in real life? What if he was one of those people who, once you met them face to face, you realized you just didn’t vibe with? What if it was someone like Bakugo?

Wait, no. Don’t think that. I tried to push the thought out of my head. I knew it was irrational. Dino wasn’t Bakugo. He couldn’t be. Dino was the one who listened to my rants without judgment. Bakugo would’ve laughed at my complaints, probably turned it into some kind of competition. But Dino didn’t—he understood. He had always been there when I needed to vent about school, about life, about how exhausting it was to constantly feel like I had to prove myself to people who didn’t deserve it.

I bit my lip, still unsure. Maybe I was overthinking it. It’s just a Halloween party. Just one night. The mask I planned to wear would make it easier, give me an extra layer of comfort in case things felt weird. And if it turned out the person I was meeting in real life was someone I couldn’t stand? I could always leave early, or just keep the mask on, keep things light. No pressure.

With a sigh, I finally typed back.

starz26708: “I’m not sure yet. I want to go, but I keep thinking about who I might run into. What if it’s someone I already know and just don’t get along with? I hate the idea of meeting someone and realizing they’re not who I thought they’d be…”

I glanced at the message after I sent it, my heart pounding slightly. What if Dino didn’t understand? What if he thought I was being weird or overdramatic? But no, Dino would get it. He always did.

My phone buzzed almost immediately, and I opened the message from him.

Dino.tnt609: “I totally get it. Meeting people in real life is a lot different, especially when you’ve only talked to them online. But hey, no worries. If you don’t like the vibe when you get there, you don’t have to stay. Just come and hang out for a bit, if you feel like it. We can just keep it lowkey. And honestly, the mask thing sounds awesome. No pressure at all.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders as I read his reply. Dino’s message was so casual, so easy-going. It reminded me that I didn’t have to overthink everything. The idea of the mask suddenly felt like a safe haven, a way to protect myself if things didn’t go as planned. And if things went well? Even better.

I glanced at my costume on the chair across the room, the simple, cute outfit with the eye mask. It was just for fun, right? It would be a way to keep things light, to feel like I could still hide behind some layer of anonymity, just in case. I could show up, meet DIno, and see how it felt. If I didn’t like the vibe, I could leave. No harm done.

Taking a deep breath, I typed out my response.

starz26708: “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll come to the party. And I’ll wear the mask. No pressure. Just… a fun time, right?”

I hit send and sat back in my chair, feeling both nervous and excited. The thought of meeting Maverick in real life still made my heart race, but now there was a sense of excitement bubbling up, too. No more overthinking. Tomorrow would be what it would be.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, I couldn’t help but think back to the classroom earlier that day, the way Bakugo had looked at me with that scoff, like I was some kind of threat to his place in the class. I couldn’t stop him from being irritated or annoyed by me. But for once, I didn’t need to care. I was about to meet someone who saw me for who I really was, not just some competitor in an academic race.

And for the first time in a while, that felt like enough.

The library was still, the kind of stillness that envelops you like a blanket, pressing in with its quiet whispers. The scent of old books and fresh paper, mingled with the faint hum of fluorescent lights, filled the air. I sat at my usual spot in the corner near the back row of tables, tucked between two towering bookshelves. The table before me was cluttered with textbooks, notebooks, and a half-finished cup of coffee that had long since cooled. It was late afternoon, and the golden light from the windows cast long shadows across the floor, making everything feel a bit more serene than usual.

I liked it here—the calm, the solitude, the sense of focus that always seemed to find its way to me in the midst of my chaotic thoughts. But today, there was an odd distraction. Him. Bakugo.

It wasn’t that he had suddenly appeared or made his presence known in any way. No, he’d been here for a while now, sitting at the table across from hers, his head bent low over a stack of textbooks. His usual aloofness was present, that edge of arrogance that always seemed to follow him like a cloud, but it was muted somehow. Less blatant. Less in-your-face.

I could feel the tension in her chest as I stole a glance at him. My eyes lingered for just a moment, not sure what to make of it. He wasn’t showing off, wasn’t playing the part of the smug academic genius. He was just… working.

It was weird. It had been a while since I’d seen Bakugo like this—since he had been normal. Or maybe that wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was more like he was letting his guard down a little, just enough for me to notice. He was still Bakugo, the same guy who had scoffed at me when I answered that question in class with confidence, the same guy who’d shot me looks of condescension every chance he got. But today, there was something… different.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the way my thoughts were spiraling around him. I didn’t like this feeling. I didn’t like the fact that I was starting to care, even a little, about what Bakugo thought—or, worse, starting to wonder if he was, in some way, not the person I always assumed him to be.

My focus snapped back to my notes. I had a test coming up. A test I needed to ace. No distractions. No thoughts about him. And yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting back to him.

Bakugo had paused in the middle of writing, a pencil hovering above his notebook as he looked at something in the distance, his gaze unfocused. There was a tiredness about him today, something uncharacteristic, as though the weight of his own expectations were getting to him. His posture had shifted slightly; no longer the rigid, always-perfect stance, but more slouched, as if the constant pressure of being the best was beginning to wear on him. I had always known that he had his own demons, just as I did. But today, it felt… real somehow. It felt more human.

I tried to shake it off, to tell myself that this was just another moment of my own weakness, my need to understand people. To make sense of things. But it was harder now. It was harder to keep the walls up when I had seen a flicker of something real underneath the arrogance.

Bakugo cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the silence between them, and my eyes shot up, my heart giving an unexpected jolt. He was looking at me now, but not with the same sharp, dismissive gaze I was used to. No, this time, it was... different. There was still a hint of skepticism, but it wasn’t the biting kind. It was almost... curious.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, but not with the usual irritation. It was more like an observation. “Staring off into space.”

I blinked, surprised by the comment. “What?”

“You’re distracted,” he said, his voice quieter now. He shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m some kind of puzzle you’re trying to figure out.”

I frowned, annoyed at how accurately he’d read me, even though I hadn’t been aware of it myself. “I haven’t been staring at you,” I muttered, though it wasn’t very convincing. I hadn’t meant to stare at him, but it was hard not to when something about today felt... off. In a way that was hard to describe.

Bakugo smirked, the edge of his usual arrogance slipping back for a moment. “Sure you haven’t.”

The flicker of their old dynamic was still there, but there was something softer in the way he said it. No ridicule. No malice. Just a simple, half-amused observation.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. This wasn’t helping me focus. And yet, there was something about the way Bakugo was acting today that made me feel like he wasn’t just my academic rival anymore. He wasn’t just the guy who competed against me for every grade, for every small victory.

For a split second,I entertained the thought that maybe—just maybe—I had misjudged him. But I quickly dismissed it. Bakugo was still Bakugo. Still arrogant. Still stubborn. Still too proud for his own good.

“I’m trying to focus,” I muttered, feeling a bit of tension in my chest, my irritation creeping back.

Bakugo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he picked up his pencil again and started scribbling something in his notebook. The sound of the lead scraping against the paper was oddly calming in the otherwise quiet space. I could feel the weight of the moment stretch out, the minutes slipping by as both of us worked, neither of us speaking.

And then, unexpectedly, Bakugo spoke again.

“You know,” he said, his voice a little softer than before, “you’re not the only one stressed out about this stuff.”

I blinked at him. What?

“Yeah,” He continued, not looking up from his work. “I might seem like I have everything figured out all the time, but I don’t. I—” He paused for a second, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something that wasn’t arrogance in his eyes. “I hate feeling like I’m always just... expected to be the best, you know?”

I was taken aback. I didn’t know how to respond at first. This wasn’t the Bakugo I knew, the Bakugo who acted like he had the world on a string and was just waiting for it to fall into place. No, this was different. This was... human. Vulnerable, even.

I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. “I get it,” I said quietly, before I could stop herself. “I feel the same way. Like I’m always trying to prove something. Like I’m never enough.”

Bakugo finally looked up at me then, his expression more thoughtful than I had ever seen it. The usual arrogance was still there, tucked beneath the surface, but it wasn’t all-consuming. For a second, he just looked at her, as if considering her words. And for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say next.

Then, surprisingly, Bakugo offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, not into a smirk, but a genuine smile. It wasn’t much—certainly not the kind of smile I ever expect from him—but it was enough.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Guess we’re not so different after all.”

I was silent for a moment, processing the unexpected turn in their conversation. There was still so much about him that grated on my nerves, but in that moment, sitting in the library with him, I realized something. Maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than the arrogant exterior he always wore. Maybe there was a real person beneath all that pride and stubbornness.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to see him for who he truly was.

“I guess so,” I replied, offering him a small smile of my own.

Both of us went back to their work, the silence stretching out between us again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… peaceful. There was an understanding now, an unspoken truce. They weren’t enemies, not really—not anymore.

For the first time, I realized that their rivalry didn’t have to define us. We could just be two students, studying together in the same quiet space, both trying to survive the pressures of their lives.

And in that simple moment, sitting across from each other, we both found a kind of peace.

taglist: @sara4uuu @zoast32 @lemon-lav @instantmagazineconnoisseur (comment to be added on my taglist!)

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[ihavenoideawhatiamdoinganymore]

Some (bad) art I made for my series on Ao3: Hail, the Conquering Hero, under the name Akulreas. This account is actually a side blog (not even it’s own blog, just a side one) because my main account is followed by my sister and I’m sorry, but I am not letting her see the art I made for a Percy Jackson/Epic the Musical fanfic that I wrote. Here’s the link, by the way, since this makes little to no sense without the context of the AU:

Basic summary: ghost Odysseus and Perseus end up haunting Percy and become his New Dads™️ (Poseidon fucking DESPISES them)

Do I know how anatomy works? No. Am I going to learn it all? Maybe. Am I going to learn it all for some silly little sketches I made for my fic? Of course not. People who actually know how to draw anatomy (or just draw in general), I sincerely apologize.

This one was because of a Tumblr post I saw at 11:00 PM and I thought ‘oh, this fits them perfectly’ and then spent thirty minutes drawing this before immediately going to sleep. First time I ever drew Percy. Never again. (The first guy’s Perseus, by the way. Second guy is Odysseus.)

This happened because I was talking with someone who was commenting on Like A Victorious Hero and they mentioned a scenario where Zeus attempts to hug Perseus and Perseus immediately starts cursing him out and telling him to go away. It tormented me for about a week before I gave in and drew it since I didn’t feel like writing it out. I chose Neal Illustrator’s Zeus design for it and if you look at Perseus for like, two seconds, you’ll see some minor similarities (mostly the hair).

Maybe I’ll add some more another day. Not now, though, because it’s late and I’m tired. Please don’t kill me, I know I’m not Good At Art.

Edit: this is my hundredth post on this side blog. Oh my gods, I don’t remember reblogging that many things??

[lillsisamarshmallow]

7 Hybrids Moved In With Me Masterlist

Pairing: Hybrid!Poly!BTS x Fem!Reader

Word count: 88k

Read time: 7hrs

Warnings: Slight Swearing, Homelessness, Mentions of Violence, Blood, Fluff, Reader is described as being ‘smaller’ and ‘shorter’ than the boys.

Genre: Hybrids AU, Fluff, Angst, SWF, Caretaker!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Description:

When the dog hybrid who visits her bakery starts taking extra food Y/N follows it through the alleys to find out why, but what happens when she stumbles upon an empty alley only to find 6 more hybrids and some very familiar pastries?

Chapters:  19/30

Teaser (0)

Bake, Eat, Run (1)

Trespassing (2)

Bunny Boy (3)

Nurse Y/n (4)

Roommates? (5)

Living Arrangements (6)

Water Fountain in the Kitchen! (7)

Rainy days, mysterious notes, and wet apologies (8)

It’s over…? (9)

Working Boys (10)

The Plan (11)

Fair Day (12)

The Betrayal (13)

House Guests (14)

Jealous! Jealous! Jealous! (15)

Hickeys, House, and Heated gazes (16).

Moving day! (17)

Getting back to normal (18)

Finally at peace (19)

Unwelcome guests and the problems they bring (20) coming soon...

Overdue Reunion (21) coming soon...

Resurfaced Memories (22) coming soon…

Keeping it Together (23) coming soon...

Falling Apart (24) coming soon...

*This story is also posted on my Wattpad*

 ⚠!This is a work of fiction so please to don't apply anything seen and shown in the book to real life people or situations!⚠

 P.S.

I love receiving feedback and seeing people make up their own theories, headcannons, and ideas about my work so please feel free to do that and ask me any questions you like about the work! This is also my first long term/full length project and the first writing project in a few years. 😊

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT with a reader who would literally get into a fist fight for them?? Literally, if someone even looks at them wrong reader will throw hands. It's literally that meme (Random person) "GET YO FUCKING DOG BITCH" (MCYT) "it don't bite" "YES IT FUCKIN DO-" I'm sorry I'm feeling silly 😔

OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT AND THE REFERENCE TO THIS MEME LMFAOOO OH MY LORD BSHWJRHEJJAJW ; very vine oriented so I apologize. you threw me into a loop referencing that

MCYT ; "anytime, anywhere, I'd beat a bitches ass for you"

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, slimecicle, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, talk of blood/injuries, physical fighting, vine cringe because I got very carried away and you can tell

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he was one of those kids in high school that made light offensive jokes but would never fight anyone over anything, he's not a violent person at all other than in his jokes

but God forbid some random person look at you two weird in public, you're on their ass

you're more offended that they were judging Tommy at all, you couldn't care that they were judging you

"sorry, do you have a problem?" You squint your eyes at the person, "me and my boyfriend are just trying to shop and you keep following us around and staring, like, can I help you?"

just a teenage Karen

yall do take it outside when the motherfucker follows you out and begins to record you

you beat this fuckers ass to a PULP

Tommy's just holding the few bags of stuff you'd purchased staring down, jaw on the fucking floor like "Oh my God wtf do I do"

he had the vlog camera on so he kinda got it all on video before he pulled you away from the person

yall sprinted the hell away bc the security guards were running towards yall 😭😭

#neveridentified

#the person admitted guilt anyways and said they were planning to hurt you so no point in trying to track yall down for self defense

#i barely know the law shush

RANBOO

they just kind of accepted that you were like this

"I do not endorse violence unless you are y/n. I can't make them un-violent. I have tried, they're a vicious guard dog now"

hurricane Katrina? more like hurricane tortilla when you enter the building

yk the free style dance teacher vine? that'll be ranboo out in public and someone will stare at them all weird and you'll glare back

"walk away, walk away" you mumble, watching the person hurrily walk away as they see you like glaring daggers into their skull

your dynamic is the one vine that's like "Oh can I have a sip of your water?" and "It's not water or vodka, it's vinegar" "bitch what"

then you'll go make angsty edge lord posts to the one bojack horseman audio "I'm not a violent dog" and insert a clip of you beating the shit out of someone in high school

FREDDIE BADLINU

you post the "look at all those chickens" vine on your Twitter everytime you see a hate comment made for one of you

you love instigating fights w people online it's the funniest fucking thing

if you don't know how to reply to some dumbass edgelord response you'll just spam the guacamole vine until they shut up

"wait, why does y/n have so many soaps?"

"MIND YOUR FUCKIN BUISNESS DAVID"

Freddie's response to your violence is usually the saxophone seal vine. he genuinely laughs everytime he sees you fighting w someone online

sometimes you'll stream it while you wait for a response and while you're fighting online trolls who've been brainwashed by Twitter

"You're gay?!?!?!?11??11"

insert the "ms keisha dead" vine and the battle is over idk what to say

fight fire with fire I guess

NIKI NIHACHU

she hates yet loves that you'd fight ppl for her

oh, someone treated her wrong? you'll be trending on Twitter for fighting the person

#y/u/n will literally be at number 1 for a week

people edit the fight too

she appreciates it though, even though she doesn't exactly like to promote violence, she'll accept it from you

"Oh, don't worry about them, they're just a little... nervous around people sometimes"

"nervous? girl that mf is SNARLING at me"

you'll see a post that's like "me when someone tries to start shit w my s/o" and reply with the "hahaha I do that" vine

when I tell you she CACKLES reading online fights with people 😭🙏

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

"get the F off my yard!" proceeds to have to drag you away from situations where someone's actin a little funny in a /neg way

he genuinely thinks you fighting people for him is funny

he'll tell the stories on stream and to his friends like "dude they fucked this guy up, I honestly feel bad for laughing"

honestly most the time it's people victimizing themselves

like that one meme where the lady very obviously and fakely falls over that bench on LIVE TELEVISION.

he's your biggest supporter

he's the old guy from that one vine of the kid singing "Oh wait a minute mister postman" and he does the whole ass high note

"here's y/n fighting someone for idk what because they're talking to the police 😋"

you're a problem at this point

QUACKITY

you've physically fought so many wild racists for him it's crazy

he'll gladly cheer you on

"AHHHH COME GET YO DOG BRO HELP"

"Oh it don't bite"

you proceed to bite the bitch

online fights are usually responded w the purple teletubby twerking meme

"L don't be a weak ass racist pussy next time"

you fight Logan Paul for some reason??? Twitter drama mostly

don't worry quackitys there to watch

17-3 don't worry... ehehehrhahahha

when he tells you that you need to stop instigating fights you send him the "They ask you how you are but you just have to say that you're fine when you're not really fine" meme BAHDNHAHA

FOOLISH GAMERS

"YOU KNOW WHAT DUDE? IM OUTTA HERE" vine in a nutshell with you two. I can't explain this but it makes sense I swear

"whatd you do to your eyebrows?" meme except its "Whyd you fight that person!?" "I don't really know!"

Twitter fights are like "and they were roommates!" "ohmygodtheywereroomates" I swear to fucking god

you love instigating shit with Twitter trolls

when you stand up for him/reply to edgelord haters for him he replies with the "country boy I love youuuuuuu" vine

"GIVE ME YOUR FUCKIN MONEY!" vine with the law and order intro is literallt how physical fights go

let's just say some stalker edgelords tracked you guys down at the streamer awards...

HE AND PUNZ GENUINLEY CHEER YOU ON

here you go trending on Twitter again

[sunkissedscribbles]

☆ 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝑆𝑆𝑂𝑁𝑆 – 𝐻𝑂𝐺𝑀𝐴𝑆 𝐷𝐴𝑌 𝟷𝟹

PAIRING: lorenzo berkshire x reader

☆ HOGMAS 2024 LIST ☆ MASTERLIST ☆ TAG LIST ☆ KIARA'S PART

Most people didn't understand why you had never been in love. Not really, I mean. You just had a different concept of love, you thought. Because whenever you had talked to someone about love, they brought up that whirlwind of emotions that digest you. This was what they called 'you just know it when you see it.'

But you? You needed to be friends with this potential love interest first, get to know them as a person, as a human being, let them in slowly, and let them figure out who you really were. It was only fate's doing afterwards. You'll just know when you feel it.

Lorenzo Berkshire was the perfect example of that.

You’d been friends with him since first year, had seen him go through good and bad; puberty changes, friendship- and relationship breakups, and had seen him talk girls into his countless hookups, too. You'd been through confrontations together, big arguments, near-friendship-ending fights, but none of that was strong enough of a power to actually separate you two.

"Over my rich, hot, dead body," he exclaimed half-humorously after one of those arguments last summer, after he ran after you in the pouring rain to apologize and reassure you no relationship could ever stand between the two of you. He was dating Daphne Greengrass back then. And, that was when you realized you should be the one dating him, not her.

But you kept denying it, ever since.

No, you didn't like him.

But you didn't like seeing his arm around another girl, either, even if it was for a demonstration on how to waltz, preparing for the upcoming Yule Ball, a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Yes, like that. Miss Bulstrode, follow Mr Berkshire's lead, don't try to make him submit," Snape's bored yet strong tone echoed through the Duelling Club's classroom, which was temporarily emptied for the dance lesson.

"Bet she'd submit if they were horizontal," Mattheo gushed into your ear with that significant, mischievous grin.

In response, you elbowed his ribs, and he let out a quiet snicker, rubbing the skin through his Slytherin sweater. "Oi, jealous, princess?" he continued with that annoying grin still plastered on his lips, "You'd willingly submit for him, too, wouldn't you?"

"I'll make you drink Veritaserum and admit your feelings for Amara if you don't stop," you shot him a threatening glare.

"That's illegal," he points out, almost a bit afraid you'd do it.

"Yeah, but you brewed it with Theo," you raised your eyebrows at him knowingly, and for a moment he seemed like he was about to say something as his mouth opened, but then he closed it as his lovesick gaze landed on the girl mentioned above, on your best friend, across the classroom, chatting with Kiara, your other best friend whose pinky was interlocked with Theo's.

By the end of the dance lesson, your feet hurt because, to say the least, Mattheo's feet made more contact with yours than with the tiled floor. Partially because neither of you was able to concentrate on dancing when your crushes were dancing together, and partially because neither of you exactly excelled at the art of waltz.

And, as the Yule Ball only came closer and closer in time, closing in on you like the dreaded deadline of a Potions essay, you had no other choice than to approach your best friend in desperation, the night before the ball.

"You need to teach me to dance," you stated, standing in the middle of the currently empty Slytherin common room, at 11 pm.

"To dance?" he furrowed his brows in confusion. "You've been learning to dance in the past four weeks."

"Yes, but Mattheo sucks at dancing. And so do I."

As if contemplating not helping you, he waited a few seconds before letting out a quiet, tired sigh and offering his hand to you. You looked down at it before taking it with a grateful little smile.

"Put your other hand on my shoulder," he commanded before gently placing his right on your waist to pull you closer, leaving you with butterflies in your stomach. "Left foot back on one, close, three," he started counting while leading you slowly, "...and forward, two, three. Let me lead."

"Sounds like a mistake," you commented humorously, to which a quiet huff of a chuckle left his lips, and at the sweet sound, a smile made its way onto your lips.

You warmed up to it after a few minutes, and your movements started becoming somewhat more elegant than they were when you were trying to learn to dance with Mattheo.

“Have you asked anyone?” you looked up at him, meeting his eyes, trying your best not to let your gaze drop to his lips. “To the ball, I mean.”

“I haven’t,” he replied, tugging you slightly closer. “Anyone asked you?”

You shook your head, keeping a bitter chuckle from escaping your mouth, only able to reduce it into a small, discontented smile which you tried to hide from him by gazing down, but he, grabbing your chin, earned eye contact again. “What’s the face for?”

Your stomach fluttered, his touch freezing you in place as his fingers lingered under your chin. He tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing like always when he was focused on solving a problem. Except now, the problem was you.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, your voice quieter than you intended. You stepped back, gently breaking free of his hold, and tried to regain composure. “Just… nervous about the ball, I guess.”

“You? Nervous?” he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’re never nervous. I’ve seen you stand up to Snape and talk back to McGonagall. What’s so terrifying about a dance?”

You couldn’t tell him the truth, not when your heart felt like it was ready to burst from your chest. Not when every glance at him made you wish for something more than friendship, even though you’d convinced yourself it was impossible. So you forced a laugh instead. “Have you seen me waltz? I’m a walking disaster.”

Lorenzo’s lips curved into a smile, but his gaze didn’t waver. “You’re not a disaster,” he said softly, his tone sincere. “And if you’re nervous, then… I’ll be there. I’ll make sure you’re alright.”

Your breath caught. He meant it in the way Lorenzo always did – as a loyal friend, always reliable. But you couldn’t help but wish he meant something else, something deeper. You nodded, unable to muster more than a whispered, “Thanks.”

The moment stretched between you, charged and fragile before he took the initiative of the situation and broke the silence. He exhaled softly, his thumb brushing your chin before he finally spoke. “Come to the ball with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening slightly. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his smile growing. “Come to the ball with me. Let’s show those waltzing disasters what we’ve learned.”

A quiet laugh escaped your lips, and you nodded. “Alright. I’d like that.”

Lorenzo’s expression softened, and for a moment, the world felt still. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead first in a gentle gesture, then, with a slight hesitation, he kissed you softly on the lips. It was brief, almost tentative, but it left your heart racing.

“Goodnight, love,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin before he pulled back, leaving you standing there, heart pounding and cheeks aflame, as he walked toward the boys’ dormitory with a satisfied smile.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @girllblogging777 @mqstermindswift @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez @s00ty-feet @malfoylover4l @potterxz

[persevereforahappyending]

A Beacon in the Dark |12|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Joey sat in the living room while you went to get Grace, she couldn’t stop replaying everything you told her. Saying your story was a lot, was an understatement; she couldn’t imagine surviving all that. She survived Abigail’s wrath only because of the others and because she ended up developing a connection with the girl, plus having a common enemy in Frank definitely helped the situation. You were, for the most part, on your own, one stranger by your side, until he wasn’t, she couldn’t imagine someone sacrificing themselves for you like that.

You survived all of that in one night, losing a new friend in the process, and then a month later you learned you were now one of those creatures. Frank tried to turn Joey, it was strictly to control her, but she didn’t want to be a vampire in general. She didn’t fully understand how the whole thing worked but she always considered herself lucky that it didn’t work. She could probably deal with the not going out in daylight thing and even the blood drinking part, but she’d never be able to see her son again. Even if she could have controlled herself like Abigail, she never would have trusted herself around him, couldn’t trust that she herself, or that life wouldn’t hurt him.

You weren’t lucky though; you got bit and now every month you were forced to turn into one of the monsters that did that to you. Joey clocked the self-hatred pretty much right after meeting you, you hid it well, but it was the way you talked about certain things and how you reacted. Honestly, Joey was surprised you were still alive considering how much you seemed to despise what you were. You stopped talking after getting to the part where you met Grace, Joey couldn’t begin to imagine what those first few months were like together, how Grace got you to where you were now.

“You ready?” Grace asked, breaking Joey out of her thoughts.

Joey nodded, a part of her was disappointed you weren’t taking her home, but she wasn’t sure she’d get in the car if you even offered. She wasn’t the biggest fan of Grace at the moment either, but she didn’t have to worry about Grace trying to rip out her throat, at least she didn’t think she did.

Joey followed Grace to her car which was a nice simple black one, nothing like your Jeep. It was definitely nice, the seats were leather, but it looked like any car the average person would drive, it didn’t scream money like the ones Joey saw in the garage. Grace seemed to have cars for every occasion, but this one seemed to be all her, who she truly was, not the mask she showed everyone else.

“I do want to apologize for lying to you,” Grace said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “That’s not something that’s easy to tell someone without them overreacting.” Joey scoffed at that. “I only wanted to protect them.” Joey looked over at Grace, she could see the care the other woman had for you. You were fiercely protective of Grace, but it was reciprocated just as much. “But I truly am sorry for dragging you into this.”

Joey nodded, she believed the apology was sincere, but she wasn’t sure about forgiveness yet, this lie almost got her killed. “Why did you save them?” Joey couldn’t help but ask.

Grace snapped her head to the side and then quickly back to the road as if she remembered she had to focus on driving. “They told you that.”

“You said they’d tell me everything.” Joey furrowed her brow slightly; she wasn’t sure why Grace was shocked that you told her about that part of your story.

“I was prepared to shoot them, had heard reports of werewolves before, they run in packs, not easy to go after on my own.” Joey nodded along; she gathered that based on what you had told her. “But then there were random reports of one in New York. I packed my stuff and took off, couldn’t pass up going after one that was apparently alone.”

“So, what changed?”

“I found them,” Grace whispered, she got a distant look in her eye, probably remembering that day. “They’re hard to kill when they’re transformed.

 Joey scoffed. “That’s one way to put it,” she mumbled.

“They killed someone before I found them.” Joey sucked in a breath, she knew you must have had killed people before, but assuming and knowing were different things. “I found the body,” Grace shook her head. “Completely shredded. Then tracked them the rest of the way and waited.

“You waited?” Joey’s mouth fell open. Every mission she’d been sent on had been about taking out the threat and saving the innocents, but here Grace was telling her she waited to shoot you, after discovering the body of someone you killed.

“I was more than prepared to shoot, had them in my sight and everything. If they went after anyone else, I would have taken the shot.”

“But they didn’t.”

Grace shook her head. “When they finally shifted back in the morning I approached, placed the gun right at the back of their head.” Joey tried to ignore the feeling of hearing someone put a gun to the back of your head, how close you were to dying, and she didn’t even know you at the time.

“Then they looked up at me,” Grace whispered. Joey glanced over to see tears had filled Grace’s eyes. “They weren’t like the others, they didn’t lunge at me trying to get another kill in, they didn’t try to run, they didn’t even beg for their life,” she let out humorless chuckle. “They begged me to pull the trigger, they saw the blood on their hands, and they wanted to die instead of risking something like that happening again.”

Joey sat in silence the rest of the way, taking in everything Grace told her. Despite hating what you were, you were always in good spirits. You were protective and liked to joke around, you were more considerate than anyone else Joey had ever met. She didn’t understand how someone like that, who made sure she was safe and always got back to her son, who felt guilty about pulling her away for a job, how someone like that could be in such a dark place like Grace described.

Joey looked up when she felt the car come to a stop, they were outside her apartment already. “Thanks,” Joey mumbled and reached for the door handle.

“Wait,” Grace said, resting a hand on Joey’s arm, which she was quick to take away when Joey looked down at the hand. “Don’t do anything rash.” Joey furrowed her brow at that. “I know you’re not happy with us, with me, maybe we’ve broken your trust completely.” Joey looked down at the sidewalk, mutual trust was the most important thing in a partnership, especially when it came to trusting someone with your life. “But just consider everything you’ve learned before you make any decisions.”

Joey didn’t say anything, she just nodded and closed the door. She didn’t look back as she made her way into the apartment building, but she knew Grace didn’t drive off until Joey was fully in the building. She trudged up the stairs to her apartment and once she was inside, she slumped against the door, mindlessly tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter as she pressed her palms into her eyes. She looked at the clock on the stove and saw she had a bit over an hour before she’d have to pick up Caleb, just enough time to shower and change.

Ana stripped her clothes and hopped into the shower. She scrubbed herself clean, finding bits of twigs in her hair as she ran her hands through it. She closed her eyes as she let the water run over her, she saw flashes of the night before, of a monster slaughtering everyone. Her eyes snapped open and then she saw your face, the complete opposite of the monster she had seen, the shame that weighed down on you, how it was as if you were afraid to look at her the majority of the conversation.

She finally hopped out of the shower when the water started to turn cold. She quickly changed, throwing on a clean pair of jeans and a plain white shirt. She looked down at the pile of dirty clothes on the floor before balling them up and tossing them in the laundry basket. She glanced at the clock one more time, she had a few extra minutes. She grabbed her leather jacket before heading out the door, making sure to bring the basket of dirty laundry with her and down to the bottom floor so she could toss in a load, she didn’t want Caleb to come home and see her clothes covered in blood and mud.

She made her way down the street, walking quickly to make sure she got to the school before the bell rang. She hadn’t talked to Caleb since she dropped him off at school yesterday morning, he got picked up by her neighbor and spent the night at a friend’s. She had told him she had a late shift and she’d be there to pick him up from school, he seemed excited to stay the night at his friends, but she didn’t miss the forced smile, as if he still didn’t believe she’d be there waiting for him when school got out.

Ana got to the front of school just as the bell rang. She glanced over the kids as they ran out the front door until her eyes landed on Caleb. He had his head down and looked up, glancing at the spot Ana always waited for him and seemed to have to do a double take when his eyes landed on her. Ana gave him an awkward smile as he made his way over to her. “Hey,” Ana greeted when he got to her side. “How was the sleepover?”

“It was fun,” Caleb said with a small smile. “How was work?”

Ana tensed up at the question, but she tried to brush it off as they walked back to the apartment. “It was okay, I’m not sure if it’s going to work out so much anymore.”

She didn’t want to tell Caleb everything obviously, she wanted to protect his innocence as much as possible, but she couldn’t stand the thought of lying to him. Caleb was quite observant; he would notice if anything changed, and she didn’t want him to worry. She didn’t want him to go back to wondering why she was suddenly waiting around to hear back from employers and relentlessly applying to places.

“Oh,” Caleb whispered. “Did something happen?”

Ana let out a long sigh as she pushed open the door to the apartment building. “Sort of,” she admitted. “Let’s just say I’m not sure I can trust my boss and my partner anymore.”

“Did they do something wrong?” Caleb looked back at her curiously as she closed the door to the apartment.

Ana rested her arms on the kitchen counter as she thought long and hard about Caleb’s question. She could choose the easy answer and just say yes. The truth was you had lied, you had knowingly put her life in danger, but it was your secret to tell. Ana couldn’t fault you for not sharing your entire life story, what happened to you still clearly affected you, you only told her, not because you trusted her with the information, but you felt bad and obligated for her to know after what happened.

“Not necessarily,” Ana said slowly.

“Then what’s the problem?” Caleb tilted his head, his eyebrows scrunched ever so slightly.

“They kept a secret from me.” Caleb only seemed to scrunch his brow even more at that. “And it affected our most recent job, I’m not sure I can trust them anymore.”

Ana turned and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, she figured the conversation was done since Caleb had been silent. When she turned around, she saw Caleb was still standing in the same spot with a contemplative look on his face. His eyes were glued to the ground and there was a slight frown on his face.

“Are they a bad person?” Caleb asked, tilting his head as he looked up at Ana.

Ana opened and closed her mouth a few times, out of all the things she expected, it definitely wasn’t that. “No,” Ana said easily with a shake of her head.

“Then why can’t you forgive them?”

“It’s not that simple,” Ana sighed.

“But why? You trusted them before; you like your job.” Ana looked down at the counter, she barely trusted you before, you had proven yourself and earned her trusting you with her life, but then you lied to her. “Why can’t you just give them a second chance?” Ana looked up at her son again. “Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?” Ana’s mouth fell open, she missed a lot, she wasn’t sure how she ended up with such a thoughtful and brilliant son, it certainly wasn’t her doing, and it definitely wasn’t his father’s. “I thought it was best to not judge someone based on their past mistakes.”

Ana’s eyes fell to the floor again, she couldn’t stand the look in her son’s eyes. She knew what he wasn’t saying, Caleb was too smart for his own good. She was a shitty mother; she only recently got her life semi together to even come back into his life. She came to him, asking him for not only forgiveness but a second chance, one she still didn’t think she actually deserve. The main difference was you didn’t deserve Ana’s anger. You lied, you put her life in danger, and yet Ana couldn’t fault you for that, she had done worse to her own son after all.

Ana looked up and watched her son walk off towards his room. She furrowed her brow when he stopped at the entryway to the hallway and look back at her. “I like how things are now,” he said quietly. “You’ve seemed happier and less stressed.” Ana wanted to laugh at that, she wasn’t sure how she could be less stressed after dealing with various supernatural creatures she thought were just myth and legend trying to kill her. “And,” Caleb’s eyes suddenly refused to meet Ana’s. “You’ve been around more. It’s been nice,” he mumbled at the floor.

Ana smiled at her son’s words and at the way he took off to his room without another word. She still had a lot to prove she felt, she hadn’t completely earned Caleb’s trust again, but it seemed she was well on her way to it. You had been considerate of her time with Caleb, it always seemed like a priority to you because you knew it was Ana’s number one priority. Grace was even considerate of it for the most part, she accepted it when Ana first told her Caleb came first. Grace and you both seemed to accept Ana probably wouldn’t want to return, you seemed to not want to try and convince her to stay but Grace did. Grace didn’t say anything to try and manipulate Ana’s thoughts, she just asked for Ana to think of everything she learned before making her decision.

Ana grabbed her water and moved to the couch. She had enjoyed what the two of you were doing, she felt like she was actually helping people. She guessed she’d have to ask you, but this seemed like the only secret between the two of you and now it was out. She had nothing to worry about, from now on she’d be able to go in knowing all the information, she could say no if a mission during a full moon came up again.

Ana grabbed her phone before she could second guess herself. She scrolled through her contacts and found your name. The phone rang a few times, and she started to question whether you’d answer her. Ana knew you were trying to keep your distance, but she figured if she was calling you, you’d know she wanted to talk to you.

“Hello?” you finally answered, your voice sounding raspy from sleep.

“Did I wake you?” Ana asked, furrowing her brow as she looked at the clock, it had only been a couple hours since she left the mansion.

“Joey?” You had definitely been asleep, it seemed you didn’t even look at the caller ID before answering. “Is everything okay?” you suddenly sounded more awake.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ana assured you. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep, I would have waited to call.”

“It’s okay, I usually sleep after….” Ana nodded to herself, that made sense, she was sure shifting could be quite exhausting, it must take a toll on you in some way. “Anyway,” you cleared your throat. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Ana pulled out a sucker from her pocket and began twirling it around in her fingers. She could hear you breathing on the other end of the line, but you didn’t ask again, you didn’t try and push her to talk, you just waited. She was sure she could hang up on you right and you wouldn’t call back, you’d just accept it.

“I want to keep working with you,” Ana finally said.

She heard you suck in a breath then nothing but silence. “Are you sure?” you asked, you almost sounded confused that she’d choose such a thing. “You don’t have to. Grace will more then compensate you for the job. You don’t need-”

“I want to,” Ana cut you off. “I want to give this partnership a chance. Assuming all cards are on the table now?” Ana couldn’t think of what else you could possibly be keeping from her, but she had to at least ask.

“Of course, you know everything.”

“Then yes, I want to continue working with you.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when there’s a new job or,” you quickly corrected yourself. “I’ll have Grace call you.” Despite her calling you, it was clear you were unsure where she actually stood involving you.

“You can call me.”

There was silence for a few seconds, Ana could picture you forgetting she couldn’t see you and just nodding to yourself. “Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait!” Ana heard you shout as she started to pull the phone away. “If-if you ever don’t want to work together,” your voice sounded smaller than Ana had ever heard it. “It’s okay, I’ll understand. I’m sure we can find a way for you to still work with us but never have to see me.”

Ana’s mouth fell open at that, you were not only giving her an out but basically telling her she’d always have a job. She had no idea what that would look that, she couldn’t imagine doing this job without you by her side now.

“That won’t be necessary,” Ana said. “I’ll wait for your call and sorry for waking you, get some sleep.”

“Thanks,” you said. Ana could practically picture you smiling, the shy smile you always hid from people, not the one you put on for show. “Bye.”

Ana relaxed back into the cushions, she made the right choice, she was sure of it. She didn’t know what the future held, what monster the two of you would face next, but she knew the two of you would be able to handle it. Part of her felt even more protected knowing what you were and knowing you would be at her side, even if she was still absolutely terrified of your other half. Ana wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to see you like that again, but that was a problem for another day.

Taglist: @thinking1bee @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @alexkolax @thatshyboy1998 @chxrry-lov3

@bella423 @morganismspam23 @pianogirl2121

[sofs16]

rehearsal?

my first lando fic hehe

lando norris x influencer!reader

fc: madeline argy

yn

liked by landonorris, and 2,484,595 others yn u gotta loveeee spring time

view all 123,586 comments

liked by 653,686 others landonorris freshhhh

view all 172,585 comments

landowins LETS GOOO MONACO

yn

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 3,272,228 others yn humahumahuma

view all 83,686 comments

ynlauver whats a humahumahuma

⤷ yn @ynlauver idk… when do we ever know what i’m saying tho

mclando4 mclaren wyd here 😋

━ yn just tweeted !

yn @yn • 1h

STUPID FUCKING STUPIDDDDDDD

15:22 • 05/27/23 from earth • 543k Views 54k Reposts 10k Quotes 143k Likes 10k Bookmarks

Replying to @yn amelie @ynsbaee • 1h WHAT HAPPENED MOTHER?

Replying to @ynsbaee yn @yn • 41m your mother is an idiot. WHO CALLS QUALIFYING “REHEARSALS” AND THINKS THE CARS GO IN ONE AT A TIME AND SAYS IT TO THE FUCKING DRIVERS IM SO STUDPIC IM GOING TO MFKSSM 😭😭😭

jess @ynsracetrack • 30m

is yn talking abt f1.. HELLO?

15:52 • 05/27/23 from earth • 1,383 Views

21 Reposts 11 Quotes 943 Likes 2 Bookmarks

Replying to @ynsracetrack lia @ynloml • 1m THE FUCK SHE MET LANDO AND OSCAR

ynupdated

liked by landonorris and 13,383 others ynupdated NEW| Yn with Lando Norris at the Monaco Grand Prix! Via @ mclaren

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landonoririzz lando.. we see you…

landohasrizz so proud of our boy! met his long time crush 😵‍💫

⤷ ynxoxo who wouldnt have a crush on my wife?

yn

liked by landonorris , charles_leclerc, and 4,978,808 others yn @ landonorris @ oscarpiastri @ mclaren is my public apology for calling qualifying “rehearsals”

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landonorris Anytime! You looked great today 🧡

[ COMMENT DELETED ! ]

landonorris Had a great time at rehearsals with you! [ COMMENT DELETED ! ]

landonorris Anytime! Hope you enjoyed 🧡🧡🧡

[ COMMENT DELETED ! ]

landonorris Anytime! Hope you’re enjoying Monaco so far 🧡

⤷ yn oh believe me, i did ;)

landonoriszz lando😭

mcla1en user landonorris has stoped working

oscarpiastri We had a good laugh, all good! Enjoy the race tomorrow 🧡🏆

━ yn just followed back @ landonorris ! ━ yn just followed @ lando.jpg !

━ @ lando.jpg just followed back @ yn!

ynupdated

liked by 2,586 others ynupdated NEW| yn with a fan leaving the Monaco gp with P2 champion, Lando Norris! view all 112 comments

yncutiebae oh we’ve lost her.

yn

liked by landonorris, and 7,383,595 others yn mans got p2 and made me drive. i see how it is, norris. + sun here has got a GRIP on me view all 1,218,596 comments

ynwifeys HARD LAUNCH WHAT

ynmotherly mother knows what she did putting that last slide in her hard launch

landonorris Well, I am a passenger princess and you’re a better driver 😁🧡

⤷ yn awwwieee our lil lando princess ❤️😊

⤷ landonorris youre ruining this for me

⤷ yn buckle up sweets, you're in for a lot more! youre stuck with me for the week! ⤷ carlossainz55 landonorizz ❌ landohasrizz ✅

lando.jpg

liked by yn, and 843,585 others

lando.jpg day 4

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f1over giggling. lando following back yn even if he doesnt usually follow back people (literally only follows his main and daniel’s jpg acc 😭)

yna @ynlandos • 4d

guys is ynlando still alive.. they havent interacted with each other since monaco … 😓

17:21 • 12/27/23 from earth • 12k Views 2k Reposts 532 Quotes 5k Likes 112 Bookmarks

replying to @ynlandos lia @ynloml they can’t be over, i refuse.

landonorris

liked by yn and 3,282,596 others

landonorris Word on the street is me and my gf broke up? Huh? Lando NoRizz never took off for a reason 🧡 Happy 7 months @yn lovely 🫀

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carlossainz55 Lando Norizz certainly took off, what are you talking about, my muppet friend?

oscarpiastri Bet you’re grateful you were the one who brought up Yn to be invited to the GP 😂

⤷ landonorris shhh pastrami shhhhh

⤷ yn thanks babe

yn

liked by landonorris, and 7,338,696 others

yn i’ve done a lot of researching over the last 7 months to the point i can become the team principal! (andrea this is a JOKE IM SORRY). anywyas, love u my cutie patootie photographer @ landonorris loveulovuelovu

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landonorris i am NOT a cutie patootie!

⤷ yn fine, no cuddles ig

⤷ landonorris IM A CUTIE PATOOTIE,NEVERMIND

[pastafossa]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.

For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).

Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.

Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (12)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer gets closer to the truth while she feels suffocated by the situation. wc: 4.3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

a/n: Let me give you a long part as a token of my apology for being a slow writer. I hope this was worth the wait

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"WE BELIEVE WE ARE DEALING WITH A MALE OFFENDER IN HIS LATE 20s TO EARLY 30s," Aaron Hotchner announced, his voice loud and jarring. "Based on the crime scenes, the Unsub doesn't have a lot of experience as they were most likely done in a moment of rage."

The team stood in front of the bullpen, facing a room full of officers and agents scattered along the space. Pens clicked and notepads rustled around them as everyone prepared to add insights to their unfolding narrative.

Rossi, who stood by the evidence board, skimmed his eyes across the room. "It suggests someone who is impulsive and might have difficulty controlling urges. This could also be a sign of an underlying mental illness."

"It's likely that there is some kind of history there, either of abuse or trauma in their childhood," JJ added. "It seems that the Unsub may have difficulty connecting with or relating to others and may be socially isolated as a result. He would mostly like to keep to himself."

Spencer took a step forward and carried on with their profile of the unidentified suspect. "The Unsub might also have grown up in a deeply religious environment. Their beliefs may have become twisted and distorted, leading them to believe that they possess a unique calling to carry out their crimes as a way of punishment."

"Based on the victims, the Unsub has targeted specific people whom they believe have harmed one of our witnesses," Morgan added, his voice seeming to turn deeper as he continued, "Y/n L/n."

A jolt of electricity surged through Spencer's consciousness. The human mind really was a powerful thing. Somehow the simple sound of her name projected the memories he had of her and suddenly he was seeing her face, her radiant smile, her beautiful eyes—he was seeing her so clearly as if she were standing right before him.

But then Emily moved past him, jolting him awake from his reverie as she bumped against his shoulder. "The Unsub has a sense of loyalty to her that they are acting out these crimes as a desire for retribution on her behalf. They might believe that they have a connection or some kind of relationship with Ms. L/n."

"We believe the Unsub might know her personally," Hotch addressed, his eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanning around him. "Go through places where the witness is most likely to go. This could be her neighborhood, workplace, daily commute, and so on."

The atmosphere seemed to shift as he finally dismissed the room. Everyone rose from their seats, each one heading to their respective posts and assignments. It didn't take long for the phones to ring in the background, followed by the constant shuffle of feet as the entire space started to come alive.

And as Spencer turned back to his desk, a familiar man pushing the glass doors of the office suddenly caught his attention. His steps faltered while the man looked around the room as recognition hit him. Spencer walked over, addressing him as one of the witnesses. "Mr. Adler?"

The other man blew out a sigh of relief. "Eric, please." He entered the office and gave Spencer a look. "The people downstairs told me I could find you here."

"You were looking for me?" He frowned. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I hope so," Eric replied. "Has there been any missing person report lately?"

The confusion on his face grew prominent at the question. "Not that I know of. Why? Is someone you know missing?"

"A coworker of mine hasn't shown up to work and I can't contact any of his family members," he explained. "I'm starting to get worried."

"What's his name?"

"Oliver Walsh."

Having an eidetic memory helped him recall the name easily. His mind went through all the information he gathered these past few days and remembered the exact name written on the list of employees. "When did you last see him?"

"Three—no, four days ago. He left work looking very troubled."

Spencer's brow was furrowed, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on Eric's. "Troubled?"

Eric nodded. "He seemed distracted."

"Do you have any idea why he acted the way he did?"

"No," he responded. And then it suddenly happened. His eyes, previously engaged in maintaining eye contact, drifted upward for a fleeting second. It was as though a switch had been flipped in his mind and the gears of his memory whirred to life. "Although he did seem to act different that day... especially towards Y/n."

His stomach churned. A subtle tremor coursed through his limbs, betraying the unease that was slowly but unmistakably creeping into his consciousness. "...Y/n?"

"You remember her, right? She was with me the night it happened."

Remember her? She was the only person he couldn't stop thinking about. Spencer cleared his throat and leaned forward. "I'm aware Ms. L/n was also a witness."

"Well, Oliver has been fixated on her for so long, everyone in the office knows this. Y/n mostly thinks of it as a joke but I don't think Oliver sees it the same way as she does."

"And something happened between them on the day you last saw him?"

"I'm not sure." Eric sighed. "I saw them talking after work hours, and by the looks of it, I think Y/n was pissed at him." He then crossed his arms, his brows in deep concentration as he seemed to be recalling that day. "She looked like she was under a lot of stress, actually."

"Did you hear what they were talking about?"

"No. But after that, Oliver didn't seem like himself anymore. Then he didn't come to work the next day..." Eric trailed off, his eyes casting down before he mumbled, "I still don't know where he is now."

Spencer's mind suddenly became a whirlwind of calculated chaos, connecting the dots with lightning precision. His heart raced in his chest, pounding out a rhythm of urgency that echoed in his ears. There was no room for hesitation, no luxury of second-guessing.

He needed to move fast.

"Emily!" He called out as he saw his friend walking past them, quickly stopping her pace at the mention of her name. "Can you help Mr. Adler file a missing person report?"

"Uh..." she looked between the two men, uncertainty written across her face. There were questions lingering at the tip of her tongue but she stopped herself when she saw the urgent look Spencer was throwing at her. "Of course," she decided to agree, her attention shifting to the other man. "Right this way."

With a swift, purposeful stride, Spencer left them behind, his footsteps echoing the urgency that had taken hold of him. His heart was still racing when he walked down the corridor, quickly making his way to the room down the hall.

The door swung open with a resolute push, and he entered the room, his senses on high alert. "Garcia."

"I wasn't doing anything!" The woman sitting before him shrieked, closing the window tabs on the screen in front of her. Usually, Spencer would tease her on how unprofessional it was to be doing something else that wasn't related to work, but he didn't have the time to engage in playful banter.

Spencer stepped behind her, placing a hand on the back of her chair. "Garcia, I need you to find Oliver Walsh for me."

She wasted no time. Her fingers danced across the keyboard with a rapid, almost feverish intensity. "Oliver... Walsh..." The soft clatter of keys echoed in the room as she navigated through files and databases. "There are too many Oliver Walsh in this country."

"He works at the same company as Y/n."

"Should've mentioned that sooner." Her eyes scanned lines of text, images, and documents in front of her. "Bingo. Oliver Conrad Walsh was born on 18th December 1991 as an only child—wait, look at this. His family was part of The Haven Hill... a sanctuary of unwavering faith and profound tranquility?"

"Is it some kind of a cult?"

"I don't think so." Her eyes landed on an old article buried within the archives and clicked on the link before a picture of a worn-out brochure greeted them. "Prospective members are welcomed into Haven Hill, a secluded and serene enclave where faith and tradition unite. It seems like a very tight-knit community with a very religious belief—oh!"

Her fingers moved as she navigated through digital records. "Reid..."

"What is it?"

The screen suddenly displayed a grim history of illicit activities and misdeeds, a virtual breadcrumb trail leading them closer to the truth.

"Oliver Walsh was far from being a saint albeit growing up in a religious environment. Along with his group of friends, he was constantly rebelling ever since a very young age. He had to do a lot of community service for it too; underage drinking, burglary, public disturbances—oh dear."

"Attempt sexual assault?" Spencer read out loud.

"...a group of underage boys was proved guilty of trying to violate a fourteen-year-old girl on school grounds—"

"Garcia," Spencer stopped her, not wanting to listen to the rest of the story. "Give me his current address."

"Already on it," she responded, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe this, the suspect was no longer a shadowy figure; they were becoming real, tangible, and within his grasp. Then his eyes caught the shot of the man on the screen. A jolt of recognition surged through him as he scrutinized the suspect's image on the screen. The face staring back at him carried a haunting familiarity.

Memories raced through his mind like flickering images from the past. He remembered him, he always remembered people's faces, and that man right there was the same man he had seen in Y/n's house that afternoon. There was a huge chance this was all a coincidence.

But there was also a possibility of Oliver Walsh being the Unsub.

He didn't know which one was true, but what he did know was that he needed to find out the truth.

The sudden, shrill ring of his phone shattered the intensity of the moment. It was a jarring intrusion, snapping him back to the present. With a swift, almost automatic motion, Spencer reached for the device and answered the call without looking away from the screen. "Yes?"

"Agent Reid," the person on the other line greeted, their words rushed in a moment of panic. "I can't find her."

Spencer pulled his phone away from his face and glanced at the caller ID. Officer Anderson. A sense of relentless panic coursed through him as the realization hit like a lightning bolt. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach, a visceral reaction to the gravity of the call.

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

"I—" There was a sigh. "I-I was watching inside my car and I somehow ended up sleeping. She's nowhere inside the house now—"

"Did you call her?"

"She left her phone in the kitchen."

At that moment, he was acutely aware of every heartbeat, every pulse of blood coursing through his veins. Panic resounded through his thoughts, casting a dark shadow over him. It was a visceral, gut-wrenching sensation that threatened to paralyze him like the ground had suddenly shifted beneath his feet.

"I apologize, Agent Reid."

But then anger coursed through his body. He was suddenly angry—Angry at the situation, angry at the Unsub, angry at the officer who couldn't seem to do his one simple job. His jaw clenched, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone tighter, and his eyes flashed with fury.

"Being sorry isn't going to help you find her," he snapped. He then straightened himself. "I'll be there in ten."

"What happened?" Garcia whispered, noticing the sudden tension in his shoulder.

Spencer shoved back his phone and turned to her. "Garcia, I need you to inform the others, I have to go."

"What?!" She yelped, watching as he turned away from her. "Right now? Where are you going?"

But her question was left unanswered as he bolted out of the door.

There was no other way to explain what being followed by a disguised officer felt like. It was suffocating. Even everything felt suffocating these days, and when she meant everything, Y/n really meant everything.

At first, the idea of protection had offered comfort, but now it was an oppressive weight that bore down on her shoulders. Everywhere she turned, a shadow loomed, an unwelcome reminder of the loss of her freedom. The suffocating sensation was inescapable, restricting her every movement.

The constant surveillance had pushed her to the brink of stress and manifested in the form of tension that coiled within her, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Her patience wore thin and the weight of anxiety rested heavy on her chest. One moment she was on the verge of tears, the next, she was snapping with sharp words, irritable and sullen.

She really needed a break.

"You should go to the gym," Sandy had suggested the other day. "It might help relieve the stress."

After debating whether it was a good idea to visit the gym when she couldn't even remember the last time she stepped foot on a treadmill, she finally decided to slip out of the house. She walked over to the black car she already grew familiar with and stood by the window—only to find Officer Anderson fast asleep behind the wheels.

A pang of guilt tugged at her, but the allure of temporary freedom was too strong to resist. It was an unexpected opportunity, a rare moment of freedom dangling before her like a tempting prize. Was it wise to leave without informing him? Probably not. But she couldn't imagine herself working out—all awkward, tired, and sweaty—with Officer Anderson watching her from the corner.

So silently, she retraced her steps. Her pulse quickened with a mix of trepidation and exhilaration as she walked away. It would be fine, she had assured herself. She would be back before he realized she was even gone. And with that thought in mind, she quickly made her way to the closest gym around the corner.

The place felt both familiar and foreign as she navigated the equipment, but she finally found her place in an exercise routine. Her muscles protested the unaccustomed effort, but with each movement, she could feel the tension slowly dissipating. It wasn't until she could barely feel her limbs anymore that she stopped and left the place.

Even though her body was aching from pushing her body to its limit, she did feel slightly better. Her steps also did feel lighter when she walked back to her home, and her mind felt calmer, and less chaotic than it did when she left her house. But as she approached her street, a knot of unease tightened in her stomach.

The evening's fading light cast long, ominous shadows that seemed to reach out and embrace her front door, which stood ajar. It was an unexpected sight, one that sent a chill down her spine. Two things flashed into her mind at that very moment. One, she realized Officer Anderson was nowhere in sight. His usual parked car looked very much abandoned with no one inside the vehicle. Two, she could probably die if she entered her house alone in this state.

Maybe she should call the police. Maybe she should call Spencer... Yeah right, she didn't even have his number. Maybe she should just call Agent Jareau. Or Agent Prentiss. Yes, that would be a wiser option than to—shit. She clutched her empty pockets.

She didn't even bring her phone to begin with.

She cursed to herself. This was a bad, bad decision. She was probably going to regret this, but she couldn't just stand there and do nothing. So very cautiously, she approached her house, her senses on high alert.

As she pushed the door open wider, it revealed a slice of the dimly lit interior. She couldn't help but hold her breath as she stepped over the threshold, her footsteps hesitant, almost reverent, on the creaking floorboards.

She stepped deeper into her home and slowly entered the dimly lit kitchen. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a figure standing shrouded in shadows, a silhouette in the gloom. A gasp of shock emitted through her lips, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, recognition washed over her like a tidal wave.

"Officer Anderson!" She yelled, placing a hand over her heart. "You scared me!"

"Ms. L/n," he breathed out, his expression softening when he saw her. "Where have you been?"

Guilt washed over her as she noticed the concern in his eyes but she quickly dismissed it, stepping further into the room, and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "I went to the gym."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm supposed to accompany you—"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you."

"You should've woken me up, Ms. L/n."

"You looked like you could use some sleep," she mentioned before glancing at the clock perched on the wall. "I was only gone for like an hour, it's not a big deal."

Officer Anderson looked like he wanted to argue with her, but stopped himself before letting out a sigh. "Can you please inform me whenever you step out of the house, even when I might be asleep?"

His concerned gaze met hers as he turned to her, a mixture of relief and worry in his eyes. Guilt twisted in her chest as she nodded. "Alright, I will."

"And please bring your phone with you at all times."

Her eyes snapped towards the device sitting on the counter. "I did forget to bring it with me, I'm sorry."

With a nod, the officer excused himself, giving her a moment of privacy to collect her thoughts. She watched him go, his retreating figure a testament to his dedication, despite the surprise of her brief absence.

Feeling overwhelmed by the mix of emotions—being scrutinized by an authority, being a potential target of a serial killer still on the loose—she retreated to her room, seeking solace in the familiar confines of her private space. She quickly peeled off her clothes which clung to her body from all the sweat and stepped into her bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the room as she turned on the shower, its warmth a soothing embrace. Steam enveloped her, and as the water cascaded over her body, the tension that had coiled within her began to unravel. Under the gentle caress of the water, she closed her eyes. Her shoulders trembled with the tension she had carried for so long, the weight of guilt, responsibility, and emotions too complex to unravel.

How had things turned the way it did? A few weeks ago her life seemed normal, yet now she was linked to a crime with her name at the center of it. This felt so unfair. Why her? Why now? Wh—

Bang!

She opened her eyes.

What was it now?

It sounded... it sounded like a thud coming from somewhere in her house.

The sudden interruption jolted her from the sanctuary of the shower. Her heart raced as she hastily wrapped a towel around herself and emerged from the bathroom, water droplets glistening on her skin. The door to her room suddenly wrenched open with force before a figure she last expected walked in.

"What the—Spencer!" She gasped, not believing who she was seeing. "What the hell?!"

His gaze met hers, and she saw something in his expression that sent a shiver down her spine. It was an anger she hadn't seen before, a storm brewing beneath the surface of his usual calm demeanor. His jaw was clenched, and his normally warm eyes were steely and cold.

"Are you crazy?" He suddenly snapped.

"Me?" She wailed, tightening the towel around her body. "Are you crazy? What are you even doing here?"

"What were you thinking going out without notice?" Spencer's tone was incredulous, his anger unabated. "Without informing Officer Anderson?"

So this was why he was here? To confront her reckless action perhaps?

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He looked like he needed the sleep after constantly watching me with little to no rest."

Spencer's frustration deepened, his brows furrowing. "He's assigned to you to keep you safe. You can't just disappear like that, it's irresponsible."

"Well excuse me for being considerate," she retorted.

"You were being reckless."

"No," she argued. "I was being thoughtful."

"Why are you not taking this seriously?" His voice grew sharper, a desperate attempt to make her understand as he stalked towards her. "Can't you understand you were putting yourself at risk?"

"I was only gone for an hour."

"Something could've happened!"

"But nothing did!"

She met his frustration with a defiant glare, holding her ground as he approached her, his tall, intimidating frame only stopping when he was directly in front of her. She saw his eyes drift down her body before pinning his gaze on her face again.

"Y/n, I need you to be safe."

"I am safe! I've been safe ever since you guys put someone to watch over me. I've been safe ever since the same person has been following me everywhere I go, which if you haven't caught on my sarcasm, has made me feel more like in prison than actually feeling protected." Her voice was tinged with frustration as she squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. "It's like I'm being controlled."

"It's not about controlling you, it's about ensuring that nothing bad happens to you."

"I was simply gone for an hour, Spencer," she reminded him again. "No need to go all dramatic over it."

Then in the blink of an eye, the heated tension that had filled the room seemed to snap, leaving them both breathless and disarmed. But instead of reacting with anger or shouting, Spencer's frustration found a different outlet.

"Why are you not fucking listening to me?"

And in a sudden and unexpected gesture, he cupped her face in his hands. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, filled with a mix of emotions too complex to name. And then, in a burst of raw and unspoken desire, he leaned in and crashed his lips on her.

She was too stunned to speak, too stunned to respond. There was nothing else she could do but to give in his advance, because dear god, it felt too good to have his mouth moving against hers again. Spencer had kissed her many times before, but not like this. Not this rough. She could even feel the frustration seeping from his body as his lips moved against hers with urgency.

He continued to kiss her, biting hard at her bottom lip, teeth gnashing against the soft flesh of it as a rumbling noise vibrated deep in his chest. Each time she gasped in response at his teeth, his tongue forced its way into her mouth and lapped so mercilessly that she was left desperate for air each time he returned to assaulting her with his teeth and lips.

"Is this what it would take for you to listen?" He growled against her mouth. "Is this what you want?"

Speechless, she responded to his ardor with a fervor of her own, her body leaning into his, fingers tracing the contours of his face. She continued to stare up at him, trying to quickly piece together what was going on, though she nevertheless found herself aroused. It was as if their desire, long suppressed by their arguments and differences, had suddenly ignited, leaving them both powerless to resist the pull of passion.

"Answer me," he barked out.

"Yes," she finally breathed out. "Yes."

Releasing her face, his hands rose in between them. Her eyes dropped down, watching as he gripped her towel with so much force before he ripped it off her body in one swift movement, throwing the material onto the floor.

His eyes roamed over her body, tracing every curve and contour with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. His hands traced over her sides before he gripped onto her hips, tugging her towards him desperately. "I won't be able to restrain myself."

She knew what he meant. She was acutely aware of the tension seeping from his body, all the anger, all the frustration. She understood how hard these past few days had been for him, she could even feel it from the taught in his muscles. He was tensed and from the way he was looking at her with hooded eyes, he needed a release.

And so did she.

The intensity of the moment had ignited a different kind of fire within her, and her previous anger and frustration began to fade away, which was why she found one of her hands caressing his cheek, pulling him closer as he leaned his forehead against hers. "Then don't," she whispered. "Use me."

His eyes snapped to her.

"You can use me, Spencer," she assured him. "Use me in any way you want."

There was a moment of silence as he contemplated her words. "Do you mean that?"

She nodded. She missed this—dear god, she missed him so much. She hadn't realized how much she missed being close to him until she was standing naked underneath his heated gaze.

She pressed her lips against his softly. "I'm all yours."

And then he deepened the kiss and she melted into him, her tongue dancing with his. He slowly loosened his grip on her hips and found its way onto her hand resting against his cheek. He pulled away from her, tugging her hand towards him, his mouth hovering above her wrist.

"In any way I want?" He asked, gently brushing his lips over her pulse.

"Any way you want."

He smiled at her then, the first smile she saw on him ever since he barged into her room unexpectedly. But there was something about his smile that sent her into a frenzy of nerves. It wasn't genuine, it wasn't gentle.

It wasn't until his other hand reached behind him that she finally understood what his smile meant. Because right at that moment, to her surprise, he retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and with a soft click he carefully bounded one of her wrists, the steel bracelets feeling cool against her damp skin.

And then his smile morphed into a more dominant edge as he leaned closer, his eyes burning with need.

"Any way I want."

>> NEXT PART

a/n: Did you think I wasn't going to insert another smutty scene in between all the chaos? You thought wrong!

.

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Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[hunterofartemis7]

Adopted by the gods AU pt.15

Anticlea: *holding an ice pack that Hera gave her to her cheek*

Laertes: *sitting by his wife rubbing her back*

Zeus: I deeply apologize for the way my daughter acted today. She is never like this. I assure you, she will be punished for thi-

Laertes: thank you lord Zeus, but that won’t be necessary.

Apollo: your wife got slapped in the face twice by one of the eldest goddesses on Olympus and you don’t want her punished? Bro you need better priorities.

Laertes: I at the very least want her to apologize for..that and for us to figure what ACTUALLY happened that night. I don’t believe Lady Athena just took him and made up this story of us abandoning our son. Something had to have gotten lost in translation the night she found him.

Aphrodite: found her! *dragging Athena in by her arm*

Athena:🙄

Hera: *crosses her arms* Athena. Do you have something to say?

Athena: I’m only here to find out what really happened my son.

Aphrodite: *elbows her in the ribs*

Athena: ow!

Hermes: *flies in* okay! Got the spell from Hecate!

Anticlea: what does that do?

Hermes: this will show us what really happened, from both your perspective.

Zeus: and when this is over, you will apologize to the queen first the way you acted

Athena: *rolls her eyes* when it shows my son was abandoned, those people will stay the fuck away from my kids.

Hera: and when it doesn’t, you will return both boys back to their home kingdoms.

Athena: THE FUCK I WILL!!

Hermes:….okay! Let’s get this show on the road! *throws the vial on the ground and blue mist surrounds them, showing a vision from the day Odysseus was taken*

*The vision shows baby Odysseus being taken from his crib in the middle of the night by some random man. Laertes sends the guards out to chase the men and they follows him to the waterfall, where he throws the baby off the edge. It then shows Athena catching baby Odysseus and hiding behind a tree when the guards look over the edge for. It shows the guards leaving and Athena taking the baby back to Olympus. She flies to the palace where the captain tells the king and queen that their son has died and his body wasn’t found. What Athena heard made it sound like the king and queen planned to kill Odysseus, but in reality they were just in shocked that their newborn son was dead. She had flown off before she could hear the queen break down in tears*

*the vision ends, and all the gods look between Athena and Anticlea*

Hermes:…….so at least we know this was a huge misunderstanding *laughs nervously*…this is awkward.

Anticlea: I told you I never abandoned my own son.

Athena: he’s not your son

Anticlea: are you still going to be like that!? You just saw with your own eyes what really happened—

Athena: and that doesn’t change the fact that neither you or your husband actually looked for him, and I’ve been the one raising him for the past 11 years! You might have given birth to him but he is my son!

Anticlea: need I remind you that you were the one who hid him when he fell!?

Athena: he would’ve died if I hadn’t!

Zeus: BOTH OF YOU ENOUGH!!!!

Anticlea and Athena: *shut up*

Zeus; where is the boy? He needs to know the truth

Odysseus: *comes out from under the table with Diomedes* right here grandfather, and I heard everything.

Zeus: well that saves me some work.

Athena: Odysseus…

Odysseus:….*runs up and hugs her*

Diomedes: *follows and hugs her too*

Athena; *drops to her knees and hugs them both close*

Hera: Odysseus, since you heard what really happened, it seems you have a choice to make.

Odysseus: *let’s go from the hug* what do you mean?

Athena: yeah what do you mean?

Hera: the boy knows he’s the real heir of Ithaca, and that he wasn’t abandoned as you previously said. So it seems he has a choice; stay with you till he turns 18, or go with his birth parents now.

Athena: over my dead body is he going with them!

Hera: you don’t get a say Athena.

Athena: he is still underaged and I’m still his mother! There is no choice to be made here!

Apollo: wouldn’t Anticlea have a say in this since she’s his birth mother?

Athena: stay out of this!

Apollo: yes ma’am!🫡

Athena: and no she doesn’t because she didn’t raise him!

Laertes: lord Zeus, if I may. I don’t want to lose our son again after just learning that he is in fact alive, but I don’t want him taken away from the woman who’s raised him either. Isn’t there some kinda of compromise we can come to?

Odysseus: how about we forget this whole thing and I stay with my mom and brother?

Hera: the boy needs to learn how to be king Athena.

Athena: I can teach him that. Besides he has 7 more years before he can even become king!

Artemis: than just do that. Both boy stay with Athena till their 18, and in that time she will teach them how to be kings.

Laertes: or at the very least until they need to become kings

Artemis: what he said.

Hera: I suppose that could work. Athena? Could you comply with this?

Athena: *sighs* if I must.

Odysseus: what!? Mama I don’t want to leave you!

Diomedes: me either!

Aphrodite: you won’t be leaving her immediately, just when you become adults. By then you’ll be sick of her and want to leave anyway

Athena: hey!

Odysseus: *clings to her leg* never!

Diomedes: *clings as well* yeah! We’re never leaving mother!

Zeus: you both will when it is time for you to become kings. End of discussion.

Anticlea: wait, does this mean I still won’t get to see my son for another 7 years?

Zeus: well—

Athena: that’s exactly what that means

Hera: Athena!

Athena: I’m not going to make Odysseus go somewhere he doesn’t want to!

Zeus:..*sighs* if the boy wants to visit his birth than he shall, but he cannot be forced.

Athena: *mumbles* thank the gods.

Odysseus: *buried his face Athena’s side* yay

Diomedes: *does the same*

Athena: *holds them close*

Hera: now I believe there’s still the matter of an apology that you owe Anticlea for slapping her.

Athena: *rolls her eyes* I’m sorry I hit you, after you called me a bitch in my own home😑

Zeus: just go

Athena: *takes her kids hands and leaves*

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi hi hi!! once again, congrats on 1k!! such a well deserved milestone and i’m so freakin’ happy for you 🤍🫂

i’d like to request a story in a shell 🐚! with the trope: brother’s best friend, character: mattheo riddle, and song: sharpest tool by sabrina carpenter (i’m in a bit of an angsty mood if that song choice wasn’t enough to make that clear 🙈)

take all the time you need, pookie! love you and congrats again! 😚🩵

Thank you so much for requesting, leona!! I hope you like it <33

ivy's 1k celebration 🦪 navigation 🦪 characters

ˋ°•*⁀➷ MATTHEO RIDDLE brother's best friend with sharpest tool by sabrina carpenter

The text comes in at 11:23 PM.

“Hey.”

You stare at it, your thumb hovering over the screen. It feels like a bad joke, seeing his name after weeks of silence. Mattheo Riddle, the boy who left you to piece yourself back together alone, wants to say hey.

You shouldn’t answer. You know better. But knowing and doing are two different things when it comes to him.

Because Mattheo wasn’t just some fleeting crush. He was the boy who knew the way you snuck glances at him across the room, who learned to pull you into his orbit with his half-smirks and those stupid, reckless grins. He was the boy who held your secrets, who made you laugh on days when your brother’s indifference stung the most.

He was the boy who ruined you.

And yet, your thumb moves against your better judgment, typing a response.

“What do you want, Mattheo?”

The dots appear almost instantly, as though he’d been waiting, watching. It makes your stomach churn.

“Can we talk?”

You bark out a humorless laugh, the sound loud and sharp in the empty dorm room. He wants to talk now. Weeks of nothing—no texts, no glances, not even a passing acknowledgment when Theo invited him over—and now he wants to talk.

You toss your phone onto the bed, fighting the tightness creeping up your throat.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The memory of that night is still fresh, no matter how hard you try to push it away. You remember the way his hands cupped your face, the way his lips moved like they’d been made for yours. He whispered things—things that made you feel wanted, cherished.

You should have known better. You’ve always known what Mattheo is like, how he moves through life as though people are disposable. But that night, it felt different.

Until the next morning, when he barely looked at you.

Until the silence stretched into days, then weeks.

The following day, you’re in the library when Theo walks in, Mattheo trailing behind him like a shadow. You freeze, your heart lurching as Mattheo’s gaze flickers to you.

His lips part like he might say something, but Theo claps him on the shoulder, drawing his attention away.

And just like that, it’s as though you don’t exist.

Your fingers curl into fists beneath the table, nails biting into your palms. The anger bubbling beneath your skin is almost enough to drown out the ache. Almost.

Later that night, there’s a knock on your door.

You open it, and there he is. Mattheo.

“What are you doing here?” you snap, not bothering to hide the bitterness in your voice.

“I—” He hesitates, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “I wanted to talk.”

“Now you want to talk?” You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “After weeks of nothing? No texts, no explanations, not even a bloody apology?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might walk away. But then he sighs, running a hand through his dark curls.

“I messed up,” he says finally. “I didn’t know how to—”

“Save it.” Your voice cracks, betraying the hurt you’ve tried so hard to bury. “You don’t get to show up here and pretend like what you did was okay.”

“I never meant to hurt you.” His voice is soft, almost pleading.

“But you did,” you whisper. “You hurt me, Mattheo. And then you acted like it never happened. Like I never happened.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. His dark eyes search yours, but you’re done waiting for answers that will never come.

“You don’t get to do this anymore,” you say, stepping back. “You don’t get to keep me hanging on your every word, waiting for scraps of your attention.”

“Wait,” he says, reaching out, but you’re already closing the door.

This time, you don’t look back.

You cry that night, tears soaking into your pillow. It hurts—god, it hurts—but for the first time, you feel something else, too.

Freedom.

You’ll heal. Slowly, painfully, but you’ll heal. Without him.

And he’ll just be another lesson learned the hard way.

[python333]

scary dog privileges — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur super duper scary to almost all 141 soldiers, but to price soap ghost and gaz ur just the sweetest little thing ever :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], no usage of c/n [call sign chosen for this fic is 'Cerberus'!], might sound kind of rushed/shitty :{

note normally i try not to rush fics BUT i started this at like 12 pm and as im typing this out its 11 pm and ive only written 2285 words so im kind of rushing this so i can keep up my little posting daily thing!! this idea has also been rotting in my brain for a while, so i might make a hcs thing from it, idk, but for now its just this fic!! also, thank you everyone who gave reblogged my last fic, reblogs are the best sorta motivation for a reader and i absolutely appreciate all of them :> anyway this is all fluff + comfort no hurt and has some soft!ghost in it because hes my dad and i love him so enjoy!!

The Private in front of you may as well have been pissing his pants with how scared he looked. His commanding officer, and one of your closest friends, Soap, had reported him to you for ‘insubordination’. He’d said, verbatim, when telling you about him, “I’d deal with him myself, but I’m too tired to,” so now you had to deal with one of his subordinates. 

You sighed through your nose as you looked down at the Private in front of you, the latter comically small compared to you, both physically and mentally. 

“Well?” You ask expectantly, raising an eyebrow at him, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” The Private shakily nods and you can hear him gulp, “Right, yeah, so basically, it was earlier this morning and I was following orders and everything, doing what I was supposed to, then I accidentally interrupted Soap while he was giving me orders, which I didn’t mean to do, I swear, I just wasn’t thinking and it happened and I just— I didn’t mean to do it. And then later on, we were both—me and Soap—talking with a few other people who I guess were some higher ranked soldiers from different tactical operations and I accidentally interrupted some of them. It was—” “I’m sorry, hold on,” You put a finger up to silence him, to which he responds with immediate silence, letting you talk, “You don’t accidentally interrupt someone. Either you do it or you don’t. You don’t just slip up and interrupt your CO in the middle of him giving you orders. Secondly, always refer to Soap as ‘Captain MacTavish’, or ‘Captain’ if that’s somehow too hard for you, don’t act like you get to talk about him like you’re both all buddy-buddy and—” “Okay, but if you’d just let me finish—” The Private tries to interrupt you, making you draw your eyebrows together in confusion. “Excuse me?” You ask, mildly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt you, “Did you just interrupt me?” The Private stays silent for a moment, looking up at you, wide-eyed. His whole face looks even more stupid like this—like he doesn’t even know what he did. 

“I asked you a question, Private,” You remind him, leaning down a bit, tilting your head to the side questioningly, “Did you just interrupt me?”  “Right, yeah, I did, sorry about that—” He tries to apologize, “Didn’t mean to. Swear.” “Right,” You narrow your eyes at him, standing back up straight and crossing your arms, “Remember what I just said? About not accidentally interrupting people?” “Yeah, I do.” “Could you say ‘Yes, Lieutenant’ instead of that?” You ask, “This isn’t a casual conversation. This is one of your superiors telling you that you can’t blatantly disrespect your commanding officer, so act like it.” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant,” The Private stammers, which really shouldn’t make your lips twitch at the corners but it does, and you have to fight off a smile, pursing your lips instead. 

“Like I was saying earlier,” You continue your words from earlier, “In conversations like these, when you’re not out doing an assignment, I don’t want to catch you referring to Captain MacTavish as just ‘Soap’ ever again. And you don’t want me to catch you doing that either, you understand?” “I understand, Lieutenant.” “Good, good,” You nod, before gesturing for the Private to keep giving you his side of the story, “Continue telling me what happened then.” “Right, so, after that, Captain MacTavish gave me some new orders, and I felt like I had a better idea of what to do than him because I’d thought of something that makes more sense than what he told me to do, so I told him as such, and he acted all shocked like I didn’t have a really good idea, and told me that I was to follow his orders not the ones I tried to give to myself so I told him that mine were better and—”

“Have you read the military regulations and codes of conduct? Ever?” You interrupt, making the Private shut up almost immediately and hesitantly nod his head affirmatively. “I really don’t believe you. Everything I’ve heard so far is a direct violation of it, I just—” You pause to give a small, humorless laugh, “You have me speechless here, really.” The Private watches nervously as you struggle to find the appropriate words to say, before you finally come up with, “Is there more that you need to tell me about?” “… Yeah,” The Private answers sheepishly, making you sigh through your nose and gesture for him to tell you the rest. He clears his throat before starting up again, “And then he said that he’s the commanding officer for a reason and that what he says goes so I said okay and did what he told me to do. Then after that whole thing, he told me to go to your office and tell you what I did.” Why do I have to do all his dirty work? “… Okay then,” You look up at the ceiling and try to think of what to do, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the Private, muttering, “Well, I appreciate that you didn’t go into my office without my permission, at least you know not to do that.” You clear your throat before speaking louder, “Let’s head into my office instead of just standing out here. This is probably violating some sort of code…” The Private nods and lets you unlock the door to your office that’s just a few steps away and walks in after you, being sure to close the door behind him. He automatically sits at the chair across from your desk and you sit down at your own chair behind your desk. 

“Right, okay, let’s see…” You dig around the drawers of your desk, before letting out a small ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a corrective action assignment form out of one of the small drawers of your desk and setting it onto the top of your desk. You grab a pen from the small cup by your desk and write down the date on the form in your usual neat handwriting. 

You read a question on the form and look over at the Private, “Could you give me your full name, please?”

“John— John Williams,” The Private stammers again, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Your name is John-John Williams?”

“No, just John Williams, Lieutenant.” “M’kay,” You write down his name and fill out a few more things on the form before signing it off with your name and looking over at the Private once again, folding the paper in half as you do, “I’m gonna trust you to bring this to Soap, and tell him that it’s from me. You think you can do that?” “Yeah, of course,” John breathes out, grabbing the paper from you as you hand it to him. “Yes what?” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant.” “There we go,” You sigh and lean back in your chair, “Go on and pass that to him. And tell him to send anyone else who’s being insubordinate to Ghost or something, anyone but me.” 

John simply nods and gets up, walking out your office door and making sure to close it behind him. You cap the pen you’d used and put it back in the cup where the rest of your writing utensils are, before yawning and leaning forward to rest your head on your desk when suddenly there’s a sharp knocking at your office door. You muffle a groan and wait a moment before calling out, “Come in!” You watch as your door slowly opens, making a creaking sound that hurts your ears a bit, and much to your annoyance, yet another Private is standing in your doorway, looking just as sheepish as the last. “Oh my f— you know what?” You stand up and take a deep breath to momentarily calm yourself, “Who sent you? Was it Soap?” “… Yes,” The Private answers, their voice shaky as they speak to you, the whole thing only making you more annoyed. “Where is he right now?” You ask, walking towards the door and opening it wider, towering over the much smaller Private in front of you. 

“The— the training facility.” You blink at the Private and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. “Yeah, no sh— ugh, you know what? Thank you. Just—” You look up at the ceiling and tell yourself not to snap at this poor rookie, and look back down at them, “Just follow me. I have to go yell at him.” 

“What?” The Private asks dumbly, their eyes widening a bit in surprise. You don’t bother to look over your shoulder and check that they’re following you, instead just walking out of your office, somehow hearing their footsteps even with the thundering stomping your boots made as you walked. 

You eventually made it to one of the training facilities, the only one that currently had anyone in them, and opened the door louder than you meant to. You walked in, the shaking Private behind you as you walked up to Soap and took several deep breaths to calm yourself, ignoring the several rookies that stared at you as you walked over to him. You could hear small whispers forming amongst Soap’s small platoon of soldiers, but ignored them as well, simply walking up to Soap, who finally noticed you. He turned to you and gave you a knowing grin, like he knew exactly why you were here. “Hey, L.t—” “Why have I had two Privates coming into my office telling me you sent them because you couldn’t do your damn job?” You question him immediately, ignoring the small gasp from the Private behind you, “Do you know how many CAA forms I have left? Three. Three forms. Because you can’t deal with your own rookies. If I wanted to be dealing with them, I would’ve let Price make me a CO. You know what I said when he asked me to be one? Fuck no. I said it for a reason.” 

“… Sae ye din’t want me tae report onyone else tae ye?” Soap asks, like the little shit he is, in a teasing tone. “Absolutely not.”

“Noted,” He nods, as if he understands, and gestures for the Private he’d sent to you to come back over to him, “I actually got yer message a minute ago from Williams. I think he almost shat himself.” 

“I’m kinda happy about that, honestly,” You mutter, “Everything he told me was like… a direct violation of the code of conduct and was just so stupid.” “I ken!” Soap agrees, “I swear, naebody reads the code ‘o conduct ony mair.” “I asked him if he did, and he said yes, but I know he’s lying,” You roll your eyes before adding on, “And you know what? I’ve only had issues with British people ever since you and Gaz started reporting people to me. I think that they’re just the issue.” 

“Jesus, I ken,” Soap mutters, “Fuckin’ Brits.” “Fuckin’ Brits.” You nod in agreement, before sighing and looking over at the rest of Soap’s platoon. You look back at him, “I also told Williams to actually refer to you as ‘Captain MacTavish’, so… there’s that.” “Guid, guid,” Soap nods, before clearing his throat and continuing,

“So did ye only come here tae yell at mae?” 

“Yeah.” You admit, making Soap laugh lightly.

“And yer done now?”

“… I guess,” You mutter, making him chuckle and pat you on the shoulder.

“Guid,” He says, looking over at his group of soldiers he’s meant to be training, “I think yer scarin’ my soldiers more than mae.”

“How can you tell?” You ask sarcastically, following his gaze to the rookies that were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping when they clearly were. “They don’t even know we’re talking right now.” Soap huffs out a small laugh, “Right, o’ course.” 

“I’m gonna head back to my office and take a quick nap,” You let Soap know, “So don’t send me anymore people. They’re stinking up my office, it’s ridiculous.” Soap raises an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Why don’t you just go to your sleeping quarters?” “Don’t tell me what to do.” Soap raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, then.” You huff out a tired breath and say, “So if anyone asks where I am, just let them know that.” You don’t wait for a response before you walk away from Soap and immediately hear whispers starting up again, but you ignore them as you walk out the door, sort of used to them at this point. You didn’t know why you were so scary to some of the lower-ranked soldiers (and even some of the higher-ranked ones), considering you never intentionally did anything to scare them. Sure, you were taller than most of them, and maybe just a bit quicker to lose your temper with people, but it was never that bad. 

You vividly remember Gaz and Soap when they both found out a majority of the soldiers that were apart of the 141 were afraid of you or at least intimidated by you, the two had said that they wanted you around more often, just hanging out with them, so that they wouldn’t get bothered as much by people for unnecessary things.

Scary dog privileges, you remember they’d said, laughing as they did. It’s actually where you’d gotten your call sign, Cerberus. 

It’s not that you hated it at all, in fact, you didn’t mind being a little scary if it meant people were less likely to bother you, it’s just that it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually talk to people without them starting to stammer or shake.

It was one of the reasons you turned down being a commanding officer—you didn’t really like the thought of commanding a platoon of soldiers that cowered in your presence. Plus, it was getting really annoying, not being able to talk to another soldier that wasn’t Price, Soap, Ghost or Gaz without them looking like all they wanted to do was leave the conversation. 

You finally make it back to your office and let out a sigh of relief as you open the door and walk in, closing it behind you, not even bothering to lock it as you immediately walk over to the chair behind your desk and sit down in it.

You reach below your desk and pull out a nice, fluffy blanket and a fluffy pillow to go with it that you always kept in your office—just for times like this, when you felt like going to sleep in your office, for whatever reason.

Were you supposed to be napping at all? No. Would your superiors let you anyway because you’ve somehow managed to get emotionally adopted by both Price and Soap? Absolutely.

You move some of the papers cluttering your desk out of the way and set down your pillow, as well as wrapping yourself in the blanket, and sigh happily as you lay your head down onto the pillow. 

Just as you’re getting comfy, you hear a knock at the door. No. You don’t get up to answer it. You just sit there, head on your pillow, nice and comfy. In fact, you refuse to answer the door, because you’ve opened it for two other people already, and God knows who you’re gonna snap at once you open that door.

Another knock—you ignore that one too, knowing full well you told Soap to tell anyone who was looking for you that you were in your office but also knowing that you never said you’d open the door, you just said you’d be there. 

You bury your face into the pillow and scream into it, knowing the scream wouldn’t be too muffled with how loud it was, but doing it anyway. You then take a deep breath and call out, unenthusiastic and tired, “Come in!” 

You watch the door open and see Ghost step in, and you’re silent as you watch him close the door behind him and walk over to you, his century old shitty laptop in hand as he sits down in the chair in front of your desk and sets down said laptop.

You pay no mind to it, deciding you’d rather take a nap, and set your head back down on the pillow, pretending that you can’t feel Ghost’s eyes on you. “… Are you okay?” He asks, sounding a little concerned as he looks at you bury your head into your pillow, before his concern turns into confusion as he asks, “When did you get a pillow in here— you have a blanket, too?” 

“Mmph.” You don’t respond with actual words, even if you did they’d be muffled beyond relief by your pillow. You can’t see him but Ghost raises an eyebrow at you and his lips twitch into a small, amused smile. 

“What, you’ve just had those in here?” Ghost asks, knowing he’ll get nothing more than a muffled hum from you. 

“Mmph.” “Alright, then,” He mutters, “Keep your secrets.” “Mmph.” You feel too tired to bother responding with anything else. “I feel like you shouldn’t sleep in your office, considering you have your own sleeping quarters you can sleep in.” “… Mmph.” “That’s fair,” Ghost nods. You hear him opening his laptop and you hear it crack when it opens, the noise making you huff out a small laugh into your pillow. God, that thing is so old, it’s ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks as he types in his password. You don’t say anything in response, which doesn’t shock him in the slightest.  You feel yourself start to get closer to sleep, but can’t get quite there, instead sort of just hanging right on the edge of sleep.

You quietly grumble in frustration and shift a bit in your seat, not knowing what the issue is. Ghost notices this and raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t do anything about it just yet, instead getting back to his work. Why’d he have to go into your office to do his work? Who knows.

You shift again in your seat and Ghost knows that he’s not gonna be able to focus if you keep shifting—why wouldn’t he just go to his own office?—around, so he sighs and picks up his laptop and drags the chair in front of your desk with him around to behind your desk where you are.

You lift your head up to try and see what he’s doing, confused, and see him putting his chair right next to yours and setting his laptop down onto the desk. 

Before you can ask anything, he gently puts a hand on the side of your head and guides it to rest on his shoulder, and—oh. This is much better, somehow. 

He seems to know that it’s that much better, too, because his eyes crinkle a bit, giving away the fact that he’s smiling. However, he stays silent, and keeps his hand on the side of your head for a moment before letting it fall down to the side of your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

He opens up his laptop once again and types in his password with one hand, the typing going by significantly slower than it would’ve if he used both hands, but he decides against keeping his hand off of you, seeing as it assists in helping you go to sleep.

Are you supposed to be asleep right now? Definitely not. But like mentioned before, Price wouldn’t mind. And you’d probably laugh if Soap minded, because even if he’s a Captain, he’ll always act like a little shit. Ghost knows this too, and with this information, he figures that he might as well help you sleep, since he knows exactly how to help you sleep. 

One too many nights spent pacing in your room, which eventually woke Ghost up, which led to him helping you sleep, so that he could sleep too, You sleepily remember, He always said he was annoyed by the pacing, and that’s the only reason he helped you sleep. But now, seeing what’s happening now, makes you question that a bit. Was it his annoyance, or something else? Or am I thinking too much about this?

Cutting off your train of thought is another knock at the door, and it’s not loud enough to completely snap you out of your drowsy haze but it’s enough to make you a little more aware, and for you to readjust your head your head so that your face is practically buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck. His thumb stops rubbing against your forearm, and he glares at the door like it was the door’s fault it got knocked on. 

The knocking persists and neither of you say anything, just waiting on whoever it is on the other side to give up and go away, but whoever it is must be feeling pretty determined because even louder knocks sound at the door, making you and Ghost sigh in unison.

You both continue to stay silent, hoping that whoever was on the other side just goes away, but they don’t. You don’t hear any footsteps retreating, and the knocks keep coming.  

“Hello?” You both hear Price’s voice on the other side, “Cerberus? You in there?” “Say no,” You mutter into Ghost’s neck. He nods and clears his throat. 

“Nope!” Ghost calls out in response to Price’s question. 

“… Ghost?” Price’s surprised voice comes through, “What are you doing in there?” “Say this is your office,” You murmur, making Ghost huff out a small, amused laugh and nod again. 

“This is my office,” Ghost responds, “Why wouldn’t I be here?” “What? No,” Price’s voice becomes confused, “This is Cerberus’ office.” “No it’s not,” Ghost denies, lying straight through his teeth. You laugh quietly against his neck. “Uh… but it is?” Price argues, “It has their name on the front.” “No it doesn’t,” Ghost blatantly denies, continuing his thumb’s slow circle movements on your skin, the soothing action making you hum contently. You don’t know how, but somehow your humming is loud enough for Price to hear. Does he have his ear against the door or something?

“I can hear Cerberus in there,” Price argues again, “Don’t lie to me.” “Sorry, lamb,” Ghost apologizes to you softly, tone significantly more soft than it typically is, “I think he’s caught onto us.” “… I guess it’s fine for him to come in, then,” You mumble against his neck. He responds with a nod. 

“Come in!” Ghost calls out, and almost immediately you hear the door open and Price’s loud footsteps walking in. You can’t see him, but he opens his mouth to say something, when his eyes catch on your face buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck.

He looks questioningly at Ghost, the latter simply blinking over at Price, daring him to comment on it. 

He doesn’t, and instead closes the door behind him and walks up to the desk. 

“Cerberus?” He asks. You hum offhandedly, and he takes that as a sign to continue, “You okay?” “Mhm.” “You know you can sleep in your own sleeping quarters, right?” “Mhm.” “And you’re choosing not to?” 

“Mhm.” Price blinks at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and turning to Ghost, “And you’re here because?” “Felt like having some company,” Ghost answers simply, watching as Price glances at his thumb rubbing circles into your forearm, and continues to watch as his eyes slowly make their way up to the way your face is buried in the crook of his neck. 

Price looks at Ghost, mouthing the words, ‘I’m telling everyone about this,’ to which Ghost mouths back, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Price grins at this and opens his mouth to say something else before there’s another knock at the door. 

“Are you always this popular?” Ghost asks you, sounding both mildly annoyed and amused. 

“Mhm.” You hum affirmatively. 

Ghost sighs and he and Price call out in unison, “Come in!” The door opens and you temporarily readjust your head so that you’re just resting your head on Ghost’s shoulder with your face facing the door, and you watch as Gaz enters the room and his neutral face turns into one of both surprise and confusion. 

“Were you lot having a party in here, or something?” He asks, closing the door behind him.

“Not originally,” Ghost deadpans, watching as Gaz walks over next to Price and leans against your desk, “What’re you here for?”

“Needed an extra corrective action form,” Gaz answers. Ghost looks down at you for permission to rummage through your desk drawers and you nod.

“Second drawer to the right,” You mumble, and Ghost opens that exact one up and pulls out a CAA form, handing it over to Gaz, who takes it with a ‘thank you’ and folds it in half, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He looks between you and Ghost questioningly, and opens his mouth to say something, before Ghost gives him the same look he did to Price, and Gaz immediately snaps his mouth shut.

“If you’re tired, Cerberus, you should go to your sleeping quarters,” Price comments, tone worried. You look over at him.

“What if someone needs me, though?” You ask, slowly blinking at him.

“Kid, I don’t think anyone would get any good help from you with the state you’re in right now,” Price says honestly, ignoring the small glare you send him. “Anyone who needs you can just refer to someone else.”

You hum neutrally and sigh before muttering, “Fine,” and tentatively take your head off of Ghost’s shoulder and unwrapping the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself earlier, bundling it into a little ball and putting it into the box under your desk, putting the pillow in there as well.

You crack your knuckles quickly and get up from your seat, quickly putting your hands on the edge of your desk to steady yourself, standing up on slightly shaky legs. “I can help you get over there,” Price offers, frowning a bit when you shake your head negatively. Ghost lets out a sigh and stands up, closing his laptop before quickly walking over to you and wrapping an arm loosely around your side, over your arm, pulling you closer to him and helping you stand up a bit straighter. Gaz observes all of this with a raised eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, instead watching with Price—who watched this with disbelief in his eyes—as Ghost walked with you to the door wordlessly, opening the door and walking out of it with you, not looking back as he closes the door behind him. “You think everyone’s gonna think Cerberus is all scary after they see them leaning on Ghost trying to get back to their sleeping quarters?” Gaz asks Price, staring at the closed door. “Somehow, yeah,” Price says after a moment, still caught up in his disbelief, “That is… the strangest thing I’ve seen all day.” “It’s only thirteen, Captain.” “I don’t think anything’s gonna top that.” “Top what?” Gaz asks, a little confused, “Seeing Ghost helping out Cerberus?” “Yeah.” Gaz huffs out a laugh and pats Price’s shoulder, “Jesus, man. I’m surprised that’s the first time you’ve seen that.” Gaz ignores Price’s confused look and walks towards the door, opening and closing it as he walks out, leaving Price dumbfounded in Cerberus’ office. “Huh?”