#she never stopped trying to bring him home

[partiallysame]

I'm sorry if this is a weird request, I love your writing a lot and you bring me great comfort, and I've been binging ur stories after my ex cracked me in the face (enjoy jail Ryan)

how do you think poly 141 with a civilian s/o who comes home from work, not expecting them to be home from deployment, with a bloodied lip and black eye, a tear across her forehead that slowly oozes blood. Maybe her own knuckles are bruised and split from where she had fought off the two men who jumped her. Her pants were torn at the knees from where she grappled on the ground. Johnny's jean jacket he let her borrow was nowhere in sight left in dust as she ran for her life.

I love your writing again, I hope ur safe and please eat well and rest ❤️❤️ don't let anyone get away with putting their hands on you.

First and foremost fuck you Ryan rot in jail and hell bitch

The adrenaline had finally started to wear off as you pulled your car into the driveway, only to start to panic again when you realized your husband and your boys were home early. Like two weeks early. You sat in your car for a few moments trying to wipe the blood from your face, your hands, your knees, trying anything to look like what just happened didn’t actually happen. But the second your car pulled in they all made their way out, too excited to see their Missus to wait for her to come inside. Johnny was the first to reach the car, always so eager to see you. You sat still in your car. He tried to open the door but it was still locked. Crouching down to motion for you to open the door, maybe you were on the phone or something and that's why you hadn’t gotten out yet. But as he lowered himself to see you, only to be met with a nightmare sight. 

“Sweet’art open the door.” Voice serious in a way you had never heard before. His hand reached behind him to wave the rest of the men over, not wanting to yell for them and scare you more than you already seemed. You shook your head no. They weren’t supposed to see you like this. You were fine. You made it home, you were safe now, you were gonna fix up all your wounds and be healed before they got home. But here they were trying to coax you out of the car as tears streamed down your face. Fingers slowly pressing the unlock button, both the drivers and passenger side doors were swung open. Johnny reached over you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scooping you up out of the car. 

“Bring me my wife.” It was an order that MacTavish was not going to follow until you were pulled from his arms. “M’sorry’s” poured from your mouth between sobs as you clung to your husband and were brought into the house and set so gently on the kitchen counter, allowing the four men to get a full view of your beaten body. You sat, body shaking slightly from the adrenaline and pain that was starting to set in as they stared. Stared and the dark purple forming around your eye. Staring at the gash across your cheek and your split lip. Drops of blood on your torn shirt, jeans shredded at the knees, wet bloodied fabric stuck to the scrapes on your knees. They were all looking at you so differently. You thought your husband was going to cry, Johnny too. Kyle looked so broken. You had been working so hard for Simon to soften to open up to you and he was, but the look on his face scared you. 

Working in perfect unison the men started to undress you, removing your bloodied clothes. A first aid kit was set next to you as they each took a portion of you to care for. Apologizing when you’d wince at the pain of being cleaned up. Johnny was holding an ice pack up to your eye as Kyle took off his shirt for you to wear. None of them were willing to leave your side long enough to just grab new clothes from down the hall. Another “I’m sorry” fell from you and your husband felt like he was going to snap.

“My Love, please stop apologizing. It’s not yer fault honey. Can ya tell us what happened?” You nodded and recounted how two men had cornered you after work, wanting your purse. How they thought you weren’t handing it over fast enough. 

“But I’m a captain’s wife you know? Not just gonna take it lying down now am I? You should see the other guys.” You tried to joke and motioned to your split knuckles that Simon had so carefully wrapped up for you. 

“Where?” Simon’s voice came out harsh and the men snapped their heads toward him, a warning to calm down. (They’d find who did it later but rn the focus is on their Missus)

“I’m sorry Johnny.” You turned toward the large scot still holding the ice pack. He lowered it because he wanted you to see his face when he told you there was no reason to apologize.

“But I was wearing your jacket. You know the jean one you left for me. The one that smells like you. The one you look so handsome in. It came off and I left it there.” Your breathing picked up again, tears threatening to spill at losing his favorite jacket. You barely finished your confession when he was pulling you into his chest, strong arms feeling so warm and gentle around you.

“Don’ care about a fuckin’ jacket. You came home lovie. That's what I care about.”

[darnell-la]

I just saw a post where they mentioned what if Logan mocked your moans while he fingered you, or was doing anything really. It seems like it would feel silly coming from him but also so perfectly degrading

summary: y/n had always had a crush on Logan. not the worst Logan, but her timeline Logan. sadly, he died, and now she was stuck with this variant Wade had brought back home. sharing an apartment with an asshole was bad enough, but sharing one with an attractive, cocky, asshole, was far worse. especially when he knew how he made you feel.

note: this story will be the worst Logan. as always, he’s grumpy, and just an open asshole who thinks he’s better than the people he’s around.

———

“Who do you think you are?” Y/n looked up into the man’s eyes with anger, upset that he wouldn’t let her leave the apartment to go out with her friends. She goes out every weekend, and every weekend, he tries to stop her.

“Wade’s gone, and you’re out again — What are you hiding, y/n?” Logan asked, knowing whatever she did was none of her business. “I’m the legal age to drink and club, and you’re in my business about it? — Let me go,” y/n tried taking her arm away.

“You don’t pay for the bills here. Wade does, and-“ Logan tried making up some story about how disrespectful she would be to do what she wants. “And, Wade doesn’t give a shit. What now? I’m a grown woman. I could have a whole family if I wanted to, and you’re trying to trap me in the apartment like I’m some teen,”

“You don’t need to be out there, y/n,” Logan said, knowing what she goes out there for. He couldn’t stand it. Usually, when he teased women and they played hard to get, they didn’t just go out and party. Y/n did, and he couldn’t handle that.

“Get off of me, or I burn you,” y/n threatened as her body temperature heartened. “I’ll heal, and I don’t think you want to deal with me after I do,” Logan threatened as he moved his face inches from hers.

Within seconds, the man let go of how hot her skin was getting. Y/n instantly turned around and left to get out and away from the man who was trying his best to control her.

Fast-forward several hours, y/n finally returned from the nightclub she had attended with her lady friends. Many hours of drinking and plenty of hours of kissing random men had accrued that night.

That only made Logan’s blood boil as he watched every second of it pass by. He debated on lashing out at her every time she went to the bathroom, but when she went, she was always with a girl-friend.

The older man had to suffer for hours as the woman he’d been dying to have, had been kissing other men.

He couldn’t understand why y/n was so stuck up. Last he checked, women lived them rude and cocky. What happened in this timeline?

“Finally home,” Logan spoke in the corner of the darkroom as y/n stumbled into the apartment. She instantly rolled her eyes and sighed as she kicked off her shoes, barely being able to open her eyes or stand correctly.

“Gonna at least speak to me? Or are you too pissy drunk?” Logan asked, knowing which one it was. “That’s what I thought,” the man shook his head as he got up to walk toward her, but she paid no attention and made her way to her room.

“You didn’t even lock the door!” Logan shouted after her, but she ignored him, barely able to think about anything that was happening around her. Once she left the club with loud music, that was it for her.

Logan locked the front door and straightened up the shoes she kicked off on the front mat before he made his way toward her room. The man went to open her door, but she had locked it to shut him out for the night.

Logan sat in his room for a good hour, thinking about the way he should handle y/n. Should he kick her door down and yell at her? Should he talk to her from outside of her room? Should he wait to bring it up tomorrow? Or should he never speak of tonight?

Through the hour, he also thought about those men she let touch all over her and explore her mouth. He swore he’s never been too pissed off about a woman in his life.

It’s almost like she knew he was there to rub it in his face, and if that was the case, and he were to ever find out, he wouldn’t know how far he’d get upset.

All the men she kissed tonight waited for her, like some dog. It’s like Logan could see them a mile away. Why did she choose them, and not him? Logan was the real man here, not them.

“Fuck that,” Logan growled low as he pushed off of his bed and made his way out of his room. The man walked down the small hall before kicking y/n’s door open, causing her to jolt a bit in her sleep.

“Get up,” Logan demanded, but she barely understood him. She was still drunk, and now half asleep and in her dream. “What?” Y/n asked low as she saw the huge man make his way towards her.

“Up!” Logan demanded again before he ripped her cover off. “Hey-“ y/n went to say before Logan grabbed and pulled her up until she was seated in her bed. “Logan, what’s the deal?” Y/n asked, always irritated as he shifted her bottom to the edge of the bed.

“I want you to tell me if they mattered,” Logan spoke, only confused y/n. “What-“ y/n tried saying before Logan ripped her panties off. She had only worse panties and a bra to sleep in tonight instead of a nightgown like she usually wears. She was far too drunk to go through her drawers and find one.

“Hey,” y/n said as she went to push Logan’s fingers away that she rubbed across her heat. “You’re not even wet — They couldn’t have been that good, then,” Logan’s delusion fully kicked in before he stuck to fingers deep into y/n’s mouth.

Y/n tried pulling away and shaking her head, but Logan continued until his fingers were soaked with her saliva.

“Don’t bitch if it goes in dry then,” Logan said before he pushed two fingers at her entrance. “Hey, no-“ y/n went to stop him, but her voice cracked out as her hands stayed in shock right next to her thighs.

The young lady gripped her sheets as Logan curled his two fingers inside of her. “At least you’re empty — Maybe you’re not such a slut after all,” Logan said as y/n whined at the instant feeling of her stomach tightening.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Am I too big? — Fuck, I haven’t even put my dick in you yet,” Logan chuckled as he began to push his fingers in and out of her heat, focusing on her moans and the way she gripped around him.

“L-Lo-L-Lo,” y/n stuttered as she tried her best to keep herself up. “Lo-Lo-Lo — Fucking pathetic,” Logan mocked the girl as he looked into her eyes. She could barely hold them open as Logan played inside of her.

“No more,” y/n cried low as she felt herself near, upset that she wasn’t pushing the man off. She was strong enough to get rid of Logan, but something in her didn’t want him to stop this.

“You didn’t tell those little boys to stop — What makes you think I’ll fucking stop? Huh? — Ian stoppin’ princess,” Logan assured y/n, only making her roll her eyes, fully turned on by the way he was treating her.

For so long, y/n has been waiting for Logan to show just how cocky and asshole-like he could get. Finally, tonight, he decided to let it out.

With her being drunk, she couldn’t love this even more. There was nothing she could do about the way she was about to gush all over him.

“I’m gonna cum,” y/n said low as she fell back onto her mattress, getting ready to give Logan what he was trying so desperately to get from her. “There you go — Relax that body — Give it to me, Bub,” and with that, she did.

Y/n’s body locked up for a few seconds before shaking. Logan couldn’t help but laugh at her to taunt the way she got because of him. “Look at how I get you,”

Logan licked himself after he pulled out of y/n, making sure to get a treat for himself. That had triggered his mind to pick her up and take her to his room to continue eating her out.

“Get those fucking hands away from me, or I’ll make you count till ten,” Logan threatened after y/n tried pushing his head away from her heat. “No more — Please,” y/n begged the man as she took deep gasps.

All Logan did was chuckle into her heat, knowing he had too many more orgasms to go.

[scoupsakakitty]

Beautiful | idol!Hoshi x idolxReader | angst, fluff

Tw: weight loss, not feeling enough

The rain poured relentlessly, blurring the neon lights of Seoul into streaks of color as Hoshi stood outside the apartment building. His fingers clenched around the umbrella handle, though he wasn’t sure why he had bothered bringing it. He was already soaked, and something about the cold seemed fitting.

He hesitated before pressing the buzzer.

Silence.

Then, a static-laced voice: "Who is it?"

Hearing her voice after all this time nearly broke him. "It’s me."

A long pause. Too long.

"Go home, Soonyoung."

He swallowed. "I just want to see you. Please."

"Don’t you have something better to do? Like catching a flight to Japan?" she said bitterly.

"I’ll take the next flight," he replied without hesitation. "You’re more important."

More silence, then a click. The door unlocked. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped inside.

Y/N was thinner than he remembered. The weight loss was noticeable even under the oversized hoodie she wore, sleeves pulled over trembling fingers. Her once-bright eyes were dull, lips slightly chapped, the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix settled deep in her features.

Seeing her like this made his chest tighten. This wasn’t the Y/N he knew.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Hoshi ignored the warning, stepping inside fully. "I had to see you. I had to know if you were okay."

She let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Do I look okay to you?"

No. She looked like she had been barely holding on, like she had been drowning in something she couldn’t escape from. And the worst part? He hadn’t been there to pull her out.

"I’ve been watching you… on stage, in interviews, award shows. You’re disappearing, Y/N. You’re hurting," he admitted, voice raw. "Your friend reached out to me. She’s worried. And she thought maybe… maybe I could help."

Her eyes flashed. "And what? You think you can just come back and fix me? That your presence will magically make things better?"

"No," he whispered. "But I can be here. I can hold you up if you let me."

She scoffed. "You left, Soonyoung. And now you want to be my savior?"

"I never stopped caring," he said, his voice shaking. "I never stopped loving you."

That was the breaking point. Her lips trembled, and before she could stop herself, she collapsed into his arms.

"It’s so hard, Soonyoung," she sobbed into his chest. "No matter what I do, there’s always something wrong with me. I’m never pretty enough, never talented enough. Always too much or too little. They find every flaw, every mistake. The pressure is… it’s crushing me."

He held her tightly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Y/N, listen to me. You are the most beautiful person in the world. And not because of how you look. You are beautiful for the way you think, for the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about something you love, for your ability to make people smile without trying."

She clung to him, her breathing ragged.

"I am proud of you," he continued. "I am proud of you for trying, even when it hurts. I wish I could tell you when you’ll finally feel okay again, when your head will be above water, but healing isn’t something you can time. It isn’t something you can measure. But things will get lighter, little by little, as you break through the weight on your shoulders. Keep facing what you need to face. You are getting closer every single day, even if it doesn’t feel that way. And I hope you start to believe that you are worthy of everything you want in this life. You deserve to be adored and cared for in every way your mind, body, and heart long for. You are effortlessly beautiful. You are the embodiment of beauty. Don’t let anyone tell you differently."

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Why do you still love me? After everything?"

He smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I love everything about you. Maybe too much. But how could I not love that smile, that laughter, those eyes, that passion?"

Her breath hitched, fresh tears pooling in her eyes.

"I hate you," she whispered, voice trembling.

"I know," he said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. "Hate me all you want. Just let me stay."

She let out a shuddering breath and, after what felt like an eternity, nodded against his chest.

Soonyoung held her, his arms tightening around her fragile frame, and for the first time in months, she let herself lean into the warmth she had been missing.

Outside, the rain kept falling, washing away the past, making room for something new.

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

part vi

summary: minho has met his competition...

warnings: MXM (?), fem reader

part v • masterlist

You quickly drag Jisung away with your hand clamped over his mouth, bringing him to the same bench you had left your things at. His words are muffled by your hand until you get him to sit down, he licks your palm trying to get your hand off his mouth causing you to shriek in disgust.

"What is wrong with you?!?"

"Me?! What about you?! What was that about!?" Han shrieks back as you settled on to the bench.

Your mind spins as you try to calm yourself. You straddle the bench turning Jisung to do the same as you look at him dead in his eyes.

"The guy I slept and went home with on saturday night is currently in Minho's dance class right now."

Jisung's eyes go wide before he lets out a loud 'WHAT?' causing you to shush him all over again,

"SHHH THEY DON'T KNOW EACH OTHER!!.... at least not yet?"

-

one hour prior

Minho walked into the dance studio seeing some of the younger members who rushed to him like eager puppies to greet their hyung. In the corner Felix talked to Jeongin as he stretched warming up. Jeongin wasn't apart of the class but would often sit in the back working on music with his headphones on or sometime assisting Minho with rewinding or slowing down music for them.

The two talked casually as they watched some of the dancers crowd Minho in awe of him.

"How come you guys never came by Saturday night? I was hoping to see you would... mostly for you know who but I still wanted to see you guys," Jeongin asked as he sat criss cross in front Felix looking at him as he stretched.

"Uh... Jisung and I got a bit sloppy towards the end of our night, Y/N ended up meeting some guy she went home with. Sorry, Innie, although she was looking forward to seeing you before she met the other guy." Felix says as he ruffles the younger boys hair.

Jeongin pouts and groans throwing himself back, he didn't necessarily have a crush on you so much as he thought you were so undeniably hot that he'd grovel on his knees if it meant you gave him a chance. He sits up on his elbows as he looks at the blonde boy who stands up.

"So who was the other guy if it wasn't Minho?" He asks as glances at Minho who was still being hounded by a few needy omega girls.

The girls had been pining for Minho all last year. Hoping he'd either take one of them on a date or at least to bed. Jeongin had overheard too many times these girls talking about what he must be like in bed and wondering what it would be like to share their heat with him. Even he knew all too well that you were the only one Minho had his sights set on but that didn't stop other omegas from trying.

He knew this year would be no different then last year had, the only thing changed was that Minho led the class.

"No one I knew, just some rando from all I could see. He was hot though, no denying that." Felix said as he started to tie his hair half up.

"What did he look like?" Jeongin asked curiously as he wondered what the lucky guy had that he didn't.

"Pretty tall, dark hair, uhh, he had a woodcut. He looked like a model I swear. I remember seeing him when we came in, he was wearing a tank top and he had a rose tattoo on his back, so hot." Felix rambled as he adjusted his hair.

"Like that guy?"

Jeongin's eyes glanced around the room landing on a guy that had come in while Minho was still being bombarded by the girls. He listened to Felix's rambling as he watched a guy with the same description walk in and to the corner shed off a hoodie showing off a black inked rose tattoo on his back. He blank several times as if his mind was playing games with him.

Felix looked up to see the same tattoo he saw that night being covered up as a t shirt was pulled over. It was him, the beautiful stranger you had told them you had the best sex of your life, right here in the flesh.

Hyunjin looked around the room seeing the blonde staring at him, he was taken aback by the pretty face. He had such elvish pixie like features. The freckles on his face, the pink pouty lips and the slim nose that came to a button. Hyunjin's gaze dropped down to the boy on the floor resting on his elbows watching with those fox like eyes framed by ginger hair.

Hyunjin started to walk towards them figuring these would likely be the best two people to befriend on the first day. The one from the floor stood tall next to the blonde who started to look a bit more familiar as he approached.

"Hi, I'm Hyunjin, I just transferred here. Do I know you? You look familar."

Hyunjin held out his hand to Felix first, his smaller warm hand grabbed Hyunjin's. Hyunjin could smell he was an omega. He smelled sweet like marshmallow and vanilla, reminding him of cookies and sweet milk. Felix looked at him wide eyed, a slight blush creeped onto his face as Hyunjin addressed him.

"H-Hi I'm Felix, welcome, um, I don't think we've actually met but you know my friend uh, Y/N..."

It was Hyunjin's turn to flush as he sheepishly smiles knowing Felix knows the invisible string that connects the two of them.

"Oh right! Well it's nice to formally meet you then I.." He trails off with a sheepish smile.

Felix can't help but admire the way his eyes disappear as he smiles. Jeongin clears his throat as he's annoyed by the how stupidly handsome this guy is and how Felix has completely folded,

"Sorry, Hyunjin this is Jeongin, he's also a friend of Y/N..."

Jeongin shook Hyunjin's hand firmly, irritated by his perfect face and the way his eyes kept flickering back to Felix.

"So do you know who the dance captain is here? I was hoping to introduce myself before the class started." Hyunjin asked glancing around the room.

"Uh, uh he's a bit occupied right know but uh... one second, sorry." Felix said as he dragged Jeongin away.

"What do we do?!" Felix whisper shouts to Jeongin with big pleading eyes.

"We pull the fire alarm and clear out the room."

"No! Minho can't find out that this is the guy! What if we just keep them separated for as long as we can?"

"Too late," Jeongin says as he watches Minho talking to Hyunjin, shaking his hand. They seemingly get along well... for now. Felix gulps praying that for the next 2 hours they don't find the common ground that both know you.

Minho calls Felix over, his heart drops as he walks over carefully, while Jeongin takes up residency at the counter in back with their music equipment sitting back watch like a giddy kid. He pulls out his phone to text the group chat he has with Chan, Han, and Changbin to tell them the exciting news.

"Felix, this is Hyunjin, show him the ropes for today will you?" Minho asks patting Hyunjin's shoulder. Felix nods silently, causing Minho to laugh at as his reaction. "Relax, it's just the first day back, you're gonna be a great co-captain."

Felix's eyes go wide "Hyung! Really!? I'm your co-captain!?" Minho laughs as he walks over to Jeongin to set up the music.

For the next hour or so, Jeongin relays everything to Chan and Changbin as Jisung seems to be either ignoring or not reading his messages. He keeps track of the music as Minho leads the class, watching the way Hyunjin interacts with Minho seemingly oblivious to fact that share a common interest, you. Jeongin sees the moment you arrive outside the dance room taking up space on a bench. He watches you pull out a book to start reading.

Felix stands to the left of Minho to Hyunjin right beside him at the front of the class. Many of the other dancers were impressed by how fluid and in control Hyunjin was of his body. He was up there in the best of the class with Felix and even Minho. Felix noticed the way the other omegas were already deciding to set their sights on the new eye candy.

He couldn't help find himself tinge with jealous as he watched their eyes grow hungry with every movement from Hyunjin. Had it not be for the fact that you had already seemed interested in Hyunjin, he would have sought after him. Felix respected his friendship with you to even entertain the idea. Felix's eyes drift to the door way as they take a small break, seeing Jisung approaching, waving excitedly, he also sees you running at full speed towards Jisung.

oh no! he thinks to himself.

Jisung is barely able to announce the first few letters of your name as your hand claps over Jisung mouth. You turn frantically towards the two boys who watch you with grins on their face, waving in your direction as you pull Jisung away. That's when it Minho turns to Hyunjin confused.

"You know Y/N?" Minho asks naively

"Yeah! We met saturday night. First friend, I've made here." Hyunjin says sheepishly with a slight flush as he scratches at his neck, Minhos smile drops from his face.

"Saturday?"

"Yeah, at this place called.. Layla's!"

Felix freezes in place as he watches Minho connect the dots, Hyunjin stands there a bit clueless before he's dragged away to grab water as. Minho walks towards the dance room door to see you in the hallway panicking to Jisung, looking frantic and worried until your eyes lock on each others.

"Did I say something? Does he not like her?" Hyunjin asks confused and worried that he's created an enemy as Minho seemingly drinks his own water aggressively.

Jeongin laughs as he saunters to Hyunjin and Felix.

"It's what you didn't say. Y/N is Minhos longtime best friend... and longtime crush."

The realization clicks now. Hyunjin is met with a nasty glare as his eyes meet Minho's. Something tells him he should be afraid but the other part of him... takes this as challenge.

part vii

[talkingaboutmybullshit]

quick unedited thing i wrote after i saw a bitches love me tiktok about Tim in the 90s. And kinda a response to a lot of fandom tim thinking he’s a loser that hasn’t dated or slept with anyone when canonically he’s had like 20 live interests.

“Why are you asking boy Virgin over here?” Jason said

“Jason don’t be mean,” Dick chided

“What because it’s true,” Jason flipped Dick off

Tim couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Why the hell are you laughing like you’ve gotten laid ever in your life?”

“Did you forget that him and Steph dated for a year,”

“I don’t think I was there for that? Is that why she hangs out around us because she dated the shrimp? She’s to cool for him.”

Tim made a so so motion with his hand “Officially for like a year ish. Then we kinda had this on and off thing for a few years after that. Though she wasn’t the only girl I got with during that time. I was actually dating another girl when I first got with Steph,”

“How the hell did you get not one but two girls interested in you?” Jason asked “How the hell did you even have time for that?”

“Look when I was Robin and in high school I had a lot more extra time than I have now,” Tim explained and then scrunched up his face at the memories “and that wasn’t one of my proudest moments,”

“Honestly I don’t know how you can even keep track of how many people you been with,” Dick rolled his eyes “I swear you were talking to another girl every week before you got with Bernard,”

“Oh I got a spread sheet,” Tim answered non chalently

“You got a whole ass spread sheet?!?” Jason said

“Yeah,” Tim at least looked sheepish

“Why?” Jason ask

“Well back in high school me and my friends were talking-“

“You have friends?” Jason asked

“Well back in high school at least I had a decent amount. Then I dropped out and went around the world looking for B. I kinda got out of touched with them. You know the normal post high school kinda stuff,”

“Totally,” Said the guy who died Freshman year of high school

“Anyways,” he rolled his eyes “They were asking me how many girls i slept with and honestly I didn’t know off the top of my head. So I went home, started a list. Then that kinda morphed into a spread sheet because that’s easier to manage than like a google doc. Then I was like well I have a spread sheet I can document like umm,” he looked away trying to figure out how best way to say it without being to crass “bases and stuff I got to. Then I kinda just kept up with it over the years. Started a guys data section too since bases work a little differently and-“

“You’re a freak, of course you have a spreadsheet about your sex life,” Jason said “forget I said anything and never answer questions about sex again,”

“Gladly,” Tim shakes his head wanting this whole thing to be over

“I’m surprised you didn’t know this,” Dick said “Not the spread sheet thing but Tim ummmm…”

“Apparently getting with everything that moves,” Jason answered

“Yeah that,”

“Hey!” Tim objected “I do not. Plus I think the worse of it was when Jason wasn’t around. I had more time when I was young,”

“Dude you’re still like 20,”

“Plus I got a boyfriend now so I’m settled downed. I’m busy with work and being a vigilante,”

“Never stopped you before,”

Tim cringed at that “ok high school me wasn’t the best but-“

“When the fuck did you get a boyfriend,” Jason, who just had his twentieth revelation about Tim that hour, asked

“Oh a while ago when I rescued him from this pain cult,” Tim waved him off “we were friends in high school and reconnected after that. Really I think he brings out the best in me-“

“Meaning he hasn’t gotten bored yet from a lack of adrenaline and gone on to the next person who catches his eye,”

Tim huffed “I do not want to hear any slander from the guy who fumbled Starfire,”

“You fumbled Superboy,” Dick said

“When did you even get Superboy?” Jason exacerbated by Tim’s way to messy love life. Maybe the spread sheet was necessary. Jason at least needed a time line to get this straight.

“There was nothing even going on there!” Tim said

Dick turned to Jason to answer this question “Superboy was Tim’s first gay situation ship,”

“Was not!” Tim fought back

Jason groaned accepting he opened Pandora’s box of Tim’s messy love life.

[vigilante-3073]

Right Where You Left Me

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Summary: There had always been something lingering between them, an unspoken connection that could destroy everything.

TW: Boss/Employee relationship, tension, angst, mentions of death/loss, resignation, right person wrong time.

Y/N L/N had been a member of the BAU for years. Y/N looked through case files, arranging them in priority order based on victim amount and methodology. Y/N presented the cases to the team while JJ contacted local officials and interacted with the media. As a result of her role, Y/N spent quite a bit of time with Hotch.

Y/N reviewed cases with him, allowing Hotch to decide which unsub posed the most risk based on his profiling expertise. Y/N was incredibly good at her job, she saw a great deal of darkness and tried her best to prioritize and compartmentalize.

There would always be those cases that made it feel like there was no point in trying to stop bad things from happening. Humanity would always find different despicable ways to harm one another.

Hotch could always tell when the work was beginning to get to her. He was kind, willing to set aside the work and have a serious talk with her about their jobs. There were people out there who counted on them, victims who wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for the BAU.

Hotch always managed to bring her comfort, reminding her why they do what they do and making her entire day better. He was a good man and Y/N trusted him more than anyone. She would do absolutely anything he asked without question.

Some people may call it loyalty, but that's not what it was.

It was love.

Y/N had been in love with him for years, she knew that she could never tell him how she felt. He was married and he had a family at home. Y/N saw Haley and Jack on multiple occasions, each time left her with an uneasy feeling of guilt that settled in her stomach like a rock.

Y/N tried to remain professional, but loving him was ruining her life. Y/N went home every day to an empty house, sleeping alone before returning to the same tortuous place.

Y/N began to look forward to every moment she was able to spend in his orbit. Hotch was a light in the darkness, he burned like the brightest flame and Y/N could only get so close without getting burned.

Y/N knew that what she was doing wasn't healthy, she had an attachment to him that was inappropriate. She should quit, turn in her resignation and leave to save herself the pain of loving someone she could never have.

A selfish part of her didn't want to give him up, he was the one good thing in her life and she wouldn't be able to handle the loss.

Y/N was stuck.

She had taken a step back from Hotch, closing herself off to him and keeping things as professional as possible. Hotch knew that something had changed but Y/N assured him that everything was fine with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Y/N sat at her desk, silently reading through potential case files at almost three o'clock in the morning. A gentle knock on the door made her jump, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Rossi said.

"It's fine," Y/N assured.

"Do you have a minute to chat?" Rossi asked.

"Of course," She nodded, he stepped into her office and sat down on the chair in front of her desk.

"Have I ever told you about why I left the BAU in 1997?" Rossi asked.

"No, I don't think so," Y/N replied, closing her file.

"I told everyone that it was because I wanted to write and got sick of the FBI bureaucracy, but none of that is true... The real reason is that I had feelings for Gideon's wife," Rossi said.

"You did?" Y/N asked.

He nodded, "I would have these thoughts that Jason wasn't good enough for her, so I stepped away from the BAU... I thought it would be best if they went on as a family," He said.

Y/N gulped, trying to blink away the tears that gathered in her eyes.

"I know you're in love with him and I can see what it's doing to you... I know it's hard, but sometimes you have to let go," Rossi said.

"What if I can't let go?" Y/N asked shakily, a tear escaping and rolling down her cheek.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, kid, it's not going to be easy but you'll be better off for it," Rossi said.

Y/N's chest stuttered as she held back a sob, holding her head in her hands as she cried. Rossi stood up from his chair and made his way around the desk. He set his hand on her shoulder, providing silent comfort to her as she broke down.

Rossi watched Y/N go through exactly what he had all those years ago, wanting someone he could never have and getting his heart broken. Y/N was such a kind person and he could see how much loving Hotch had hurt her.

Years of watching the one you love be happy with someone else was a cruel punishment. It was like a knife to the gut, draining the life out of you until there is nothing left to give.

Rossi couldn't stand by and watch her lose herself for any longer. He hoped that she'd be smarter than he was, that she would realize how her feelings for Hotch were affecting her and leave. But love was a powerful thing and it could blind even the smartest person in the world.

...

Y/N made her way over to Hotch's office with a white envelope settled on top of a case file. Rossi was right and Y/N knew that she needed to make some changes in her life. Y/N slowed to a stop outside his office and knocked on the door gently, taking a breath to steady herself and calm her racing heart.

"Come in," Hotch called from inside.

Y/N opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door gently behind herself. She stepped over to his desk, taking off the envelope and holding out the case file to him.

"I think this should be our next case, but I wanted your opinion before briefing the team. The unsub is obviously escalating and is desperate to get the media's attention," Y/N said.

Hotch took the file from her hand, opening it and scanning over the information briefly, "It sounds like they could definitely use our help. Have you given it to Garcia?" He asked.

"Yes, Sir, she can have everyone briefed and on the plane within the hour," Y/N replied.

"Perfect," He nodded, closing the file and standing from his desk.

"Um, Hotch... I also have this for you," Y/N said, holding out the envelope.

He took it from her hand, "What is it?" He asked.

"My resignation," Y/N stated.

A look of confusion passed over his face before he quickly regained his composure, "Is there anything in particular that brought this on?" Hotch questioned.

"No, Sir, I just needed a change... I've already spoken to JJ and she'll be able to take over for me so there isn't any need to search for a replacement," Y/N said, glancing at her watch before moving towards the door.

"Y/N, hold on. I- Can we talk about this?" Hotch questioned, setting the envelope down on his desk.

"Hotch, the briefing," Y/N said, her hand settling on the door handle.

"Have I done something to upset or offend you? I thought that we were close, but recently things have changed and I just want to know if you're leaving because of something I did," Hotch said.

"No, I'm not leaving because of you," Y/N stated.

His shoulders sunk slightly as he looked over her, "You're lying to me," He said.

Y/N opened her mouth before closing it, letting out a soft breath as she moved over to him, "You are the best boss that anyone could ask for, Hotch. You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise," Y/N assured.

His eyes searched her face for any indication of a lie, reluctantly nodding when he found none.

"How long before you go?" He asked.

"I'll stay until the end of this case," Y/N said.

"And there's nothing I can say to change your mind?" Hotch questioned.

Y/N smiled softly, "No, there isn't," She said.

He took a breath, "I'm going to miss you," Hotch stated.

"I know... I'm gonna miss you too," Y/N replied.

They made their way to the conference room, everyone had already settled in their seats as Garcia passed the remote to Y/N.

"Just before we start, I have a bit of an announcement... I'm resigning from the BAU after this case," Y/N said.

"What?" Emily asked.

"Are you serious?" Morgan questioned.

"Where are you going?" Spencer asked.

"I don't really know yet, but I have some promising offers," Y/N said.

"Seems kinda quick. Is everything okay?" Morgan asked.

"I just need a change," Y/N said simply.

"Change is a good thing, kid," Rossi said, Y/N nodded.

"So, let's get started," Y/N said, clicking to the first set of photos.

...

It had been a few years since Y/N had resigned from the BAU, she managed to get a job with the CIA Office of Public Affairs. Hotch saw her on the news occasionally and he always stopped to watch. He had been incredibly close with Y/N and her abrupt resignation left him feeling confused.

Hotch missed her.

Y/N had become an incredibly close friend to him over the years and he wished that they still worked together. Y/N sent him flowers with a kind message when Haley passed away, but there was no other communication between them.

Things had been challenging since she died, Jack wasn't coping well and Hotch didn't know how to help. Hotch had never been an emotional man and he found himself feeling helpless in the face of such a complex situation.

Jack had always been closer to his mother, he felt her loss deeply and struggled to adjust to life without her. He was slowly returning to the happy little boy that he had been before her death, but Hotch would still catch him watching home movies occasionally just to hear Haley's voice.

It had been almost a year since her passing when Hotch made his way through the bullpen, "Hey, Hotch. Check it out, our girl is well on her way to becoming the face of the CIA," Morgan said.

Hotch looked up at the television, smiling softly when he saw the footage of Y/N holding a press conference for the CIA.

"She looks good," Hotch stated, continuing across the bullpen and up the stairs to his office.

Morgan looked over at Emily and Rossi, "Did I just hear that right?" Morgan asked.

"You did," Emily nodded.

"You think Hotch is ready to put himself back out there? Get a little something something?" Morgan questioned, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I don't know... He seems happy, it could definitely be something he's starting to think about," Emily said.

"I'll get to the bottom of it," Rossi said.

"Wing man to the rescue," Morgan smirked.

Rossi made his way up to Hotch's office, gently knocking on the open door. Hotch stood at his desk, eyes downcast as he looked over a case file.

"You got a minute, Aaron?" Rossi questioned.

"Of course," He nodded, closing the file and setting it down.

Rossi stepped into the office, closing the door behind himself, "Are you thinking about putting yourself back out there? Maybe going on a date or two?" Rossi questioned.

"I don't know. It hasn't even been a year since Haley passed," Hotch said.

"Listen, Aaron, Haley wouldn't want you to be alone. If you feel like you're ready to get back out there, you should do it," Rossi said.

"I'll think about it," Hotch stated.

"If you're serious about this, I have a good place for you to start," Rossi said, slipping a hand into the inside pocket of his blazer.

Rossi pulled out a business card, holding it out to Hotch. He glanced at him before taking the card from his hand, looking down at the name on it.

'Y/N L/N '

"Why do you have this?" Hotch asked.

"We get together for coffee a few times a month," He shrugged.

"I don't think she wants to hear from me, Dave," Hotch said, shaking his head and holding the card out to Rossi.

"Trust me, she does... Give her a call, Aaron," Rossi said, making his way out of the office.

Hotch stared down at the business card, brushing his thumb across the paper before opening his drawer and setting it inside. He closed the drawer, picking up his file and making his way down to the conference room for the morning briefing.

It took the team three days to apprehend the unsub, rescuing a few victims and reuniting them with their loved ones. There was a bittersweet feeling when only a few people were saved but a multitude of lives had been lost. These kind of cases made everyone cling to their loved ones a little tighter.

Hotch sat at his desk, diligently completing his report long after everyone had already gone home. He sat back in his chair, fidgeting with his pen before he reached over and opened his desk drawer.

Hotch easily located the business card, pulling it out and staring down at it. Hotch took a breath, picking up his phone and dialing the number.

The line rang, he honestly hoped to end up on an answering machine but the soft click caught him off guard.

"Y/N L/N," She said.

"Hi, it's Aaron Hotchner," He replied.

"Hotch? How did you get this number?" Y/N asked.

"Dave gave it to me... I hope that's not a problem," Hotch said.

"That depends on what you're calling about," Y/N replied.

"Do you want to go out for dinner with me tomorrow night? Or, I guess it's today now," He said, glancing at the clock.

"Like a date?" Y/N questioned.

"Yes, a date," Hotch nodded, fidgeting with her business card.

"I'd love to," Y/N said.

"Really?" Hotch questioned.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, "Were you expecting a different answer?" She asked.

"I was, actually... After you left, I kept thinking about your last few weeks at the BAU. I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what I'd done to make you hate me all of a sudden," Hotch started.

"Aaron, I didn't hate you... I left because I was in love with you," Y/N said.

"You loved me?" Hotch asked.

"I did... But you were my boss and you had a wife at home. I couldn't stay there and keep getting my heart broken," Y/N stated.

"I'm so sorry," Hotch said.

"Don't be. I had to do what was best for me. None of it was your fault, Aaron," Y/N assured.

He let out a shaky exhale, "I really miss having you around," Hotch said.

"I miss the BAU," Y/N replied.

"Enough to have coffee with Dave a few times a month?" Hotch questioned.

"Hey, that was all his idea. If I'm being honest, I think he was just making sure I was still single," Y/N said.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Hotch nodded.

"I missed these conversations," Y/N said.

"I did too," Hotch replied with a small smile.

"For tonight, you can pick the restaurant and text me on this number. I don't really know what my day will look like and I know it's the same way at the BAU," Y/N said.

"Okay, I will make a reservation for us and send you a message... Have a good night, Y/N," Hotch said.

"You too, Aaron," Y/N replied.

He hung up the phone, unable to keep the smile off his face as he packed up his things to head home for a few hours of sleep. Hotch knew that he would have to thank Rossi for his help when he saw him in the morning.

[kasagia]

Tell me it's you...

Pairing: young!Aleksander "Eric" Morozova/Darkling x fem!heartrender! reader Summary: The legendary Darkling saves your life from the Drüskells. You tell your friend Eric about this, but he advises you against seeking the Shadow Summoner. You don't listen to him. And you find him closer than you dared to think he was. Now you beg him to stay with you. Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist Oneshot inspired by: "Tell me it's you" from Mufasa... yeah, I just couldn't leave that song. I never thought The Lion King would inspire me to write a oneshot for Darkling... Hope you enjoy it! Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat

"It was... like something out of an adventure novel. I'm telling you, Eric, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Suddenly, shadows appeared; I couldn't see practically anything, and then they cut Drüskells in half. I... I've never seen such power. In anyone. Ever." You tell your friend in shock, half-sitting, half-lying on his bed as he bustles around you, tending to your wounds.

"You may have imagined it. No one has seen the Darkling or any of his ancestors in centuries. Shadow Summoners are freaks of nature. The fact that they are virtually nonexistent shows that they shouldn't exist." The dark-haired man replies dismissively.

You grab his hand as he's about to apply gauze soaked in the medicinal plant dimension to your cut brow and give him an offended look.

"No, Eric, I know what I saw. Maybe not exactly; maybe I didn't really see him, but it was definitely a Shadow Summoner. As when the king's men were pursuing us and we were hidden from their view by a cloud of shadow. The fact that there are few of them proves how powerful they are. Not everyone is meant to wield such responsibility on their arms. To be a saviour." You say and let go of his hand.

"You speak too highly of him. He's probably a power-hungry maniac, a heretic, not some Grisha saviour."

"I know it's him. I'm sure of it. Just as I know it's him and only the Shadow Summoner who can stop this hunt for us. We have to find him. Maybe you don't feel it, but I do. Without him... without him we have no reason to even try to fight the Tsar, Fjerda, Shu Han, and Ravka for our freedom."

Eric sighs and shakes his head in disbelief at your stubbornness. But he doesn't have time to respond to you, because suddenly his mother enters their one-room, small cottage.

He pulls away from you and gives his mother a warning look. You only stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him because the older woman walks straight to you, ignoring her son.

"The whole village is gossiping that they saw my son bring you unconscious and bloody to our hut. What happened to you, little heartreder? Did you use your powers on yourself?"

She nods at the young healer in the doorway while examining you. And if you didn't know her better, you'd almost believe the older woman was actually worried about you. Luda steps to your side and uses her powers to heal you. You clench your teeth and look at your teacher, slightly offended.

"I was taking Marika home. We took a shorter path through the forest, and the Drüskells attacked us. She ran away and alarmed Eric, and I... somehow managed to scare them away." You lie to her about the last part, feeling your friend's burning gaze on you.

Earlier, you promised him that your... unusual encounter with the Shadow Summoner would stay between you. It wasn't safe to talk about them. Besides, you doubt the old woman would believe your story, however true it is.

You nod in thanks to Luda and try to ignore the burning feeling of jealousy as she sends one of her longing glances towards Eric. You quickly regain control, reminded of the watchful gaze of the older woman who was still present.

"I don't understand why that girl called my son, since he controls his powers like a baby controls urine." You're very proud of how you manage to keep from snorting in amusement at her ridiculous remark. Eric, on the other hand, seems to not appreciate at all his mother's teasing.

"I'm here, mother."

"And you should be in the village and working. I don't know what you want to feed yourself with, but now that winter is coming, it will be harder and harder. Stop hovering over that poor girl like a dog over a hedgehog and go find yourself some useful occupation. I'll look after her."

"But, mother..."

"Go, Eric. I'll see you later." You assure him with a warm, gentle smile.

He sighs and gives his mother one last, warning look and approaches the bed. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and after making sure your wounds have healed nicely, he leaves.

"What?" You ask her, blushing slightly with embarrassment as she stares at you.

"One day, he'll put me in my grave, and he'll regret it." She sighs and stands, her black hair interwoven with more frequent streaks of grey, and you see her hands shaking slightly as she hands you a cup of herbal tea.

Lately, you've started to notice that she... stopped looking so young. Before, you couldn't believe that Eric was her son, but now, it seems, time has started to catch up with her. And she's become impossibly more grumpy and stubborn.

"Will he?" You ask, raising an eyebrow teasingly and taking a sip.

"Don't let yourself get carried away, little brat. Just because you make him more bearable doesn't give you the right to mock me. You know perfectly well that this halfwit is head over heels in love with you. So for the sake of all of us, kill it before you break your hearts."

"I... we are just friends." You persist in refusing to admit your feelings to her. She looks at you for a long moment and sighs, nodding at you reproachfully.

"Believe the words of an old woman, Y/N. You... you deserve something more. Don't destroy your peace and life because of one pair of pretty eyes."

"We are not together." You repeat yourself, not even trying to explain to her how beautiful Eric's dark irises were. Worth any pain he could bring you—something you doubt would ever happen anyway.

He was too good to hurt you. Ever. However. He was... Eric. You could always count on his help and support; he always somehow managed to be there for you when you needed him the most. So how could you fight your growing feelings for him?

"I know. But I also know him and you. So trust me when I say, he is not good enough for you."

"Aren't you confusing your roles? Shouldn't you be saying this to Eric?" The woman frowns the moment you say her son's name.

She sighs and gets out of bed, arms folded, when she was staring at you—as if her cold, disapproving gaze would change the way your stupid heart sped up whenever he was around.

"Usually the voice of reason does not break through the deafening scream of foolish love. And this boy... he is a lost cause."

"Maybe I like lost causes?"

"Y/N... you are a smart girl. So for your own good, leave before it's too late." She gathers your things and offers you a hand to help you up.

You accept her unusual, gentle help and take your bundle from her. You absentmindedly stroke the charm on your bracelet—a small stone of your favourite gemstone that Eric gave you for your birthday—as you think about how to respond to her.

"I... I am not going anywhere. I promised him I won't leave him. He is my friend."

"Ehhh... stupid child." The woman shakes her head, irritated by our stubbornness, and leads you to the exit.

You are already on your way to the village when Baghra notices a familiar figure lurking in the recesses of the hut. Her mood darkens even further when she realises an extra, unwanted pair of ears has heard your conversation.

"Happy, Aleksander? Or should I call you Eric?" The woman huffs in exasperation and grabs her old journal from the table.

"You yourself said I should hold my real name away from anyone." Aleksander answers her with the same cold, emotionless tone she gives him and steps out of his shadows.

Only now does Baghra take a moment to look at him. He snorts when he sees the streak of blood carefully hidden beneath his cloak from your view. But not from hers.

"I should also mention your stupid heart then. She will die before you, you know that, right? No matter how much you love her or how hard you will try to protect her, she will grow old, and you will remain in the same shape as today."

"Unless I stop summoning."

"As if you could. I bet you've already done it today, right?" Aleksander turns his gaze away from her. He watches your retreating figure from the window, his heart clenching at the thought that one day he will no longer be able to be by your side or watch you from his shadows. "Let her live her life. She may be a powerful heartrender, but she is still not us, Aleksander. She won't live forever; she is not equal to us. Can you watch her slipping away from your fingers each day? Watch her die in your arms?"

He clenches his fists. Unconsciously, he lets his shadows break free and spread throughout the hut. Baghra sighs and approaches him. She places her hand hesitantly on his shoulder, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"We overstayed here, Aleksander. I leave in a week. And if you really care about her, you will leave with me." Baghra looks at him for a long moment, then lets go of him. She heads for the exit and puts her hand on the doorknob but stops when she hears his voice.

"And what if I don't?"

Cold silence cuts through the air between them. Baghra looks at her son over her shoulder, and for a moment in his eyes, she sees the glow of her old self. A naive version that didn't yet know the true realities of this world, the curse hidden behind her powers. And since Aleksander wouldn't listen to her, to draw from her experience, all she could do was leave him to realise alone, in pain, that there were no others like them, that they were condemned to a life of solitude.

"Then prepare yourself for losing her anyway."

Aleksander clenches his fists as he is left alone in the hut. He lets his wonders flow out of him as he sinks into total darkness. And even the memory of your smile, something that always managed to fight his darkness, only makes the shadows grow thicker around him. Because as much as he hated his mother, he knew there was some truth in her words. You would eventually leave. And he would be all alone. Again. And even if he told you who he really was... it wasn't at all sure that you wouldn't turn away from him like everyone else before you did.

The truth was that you would cast him out. So he has to leave first... before you break his heart, that you didn't even know that belonged to you the moment he met you and got to know you.

He screams, letting his shadows in him exit through his mouth, swallowing the tears that roll down his cheeks.

"I've asked everywhere, and no one has noticed anyone new coming to the village. So it must be one of the locals or someone who arrived recently. But no one comes to mind, with... well, him. My investigation is at a standstill."

You grumble as you walk beside Eric through the forest path. Snow falls around you, causing a few small flakes to cling to his dark coat and hair. He looked adorable. Even with his red nose and the grimace that appeared on his face whenever you mentioned the Shadow Summoner in his presence.

"Maybe that's a good thing? Maybe he doesn't want to be found? Maybe he prefers to stay in his shadows, where he belongs."

"No, Eric, you... you didn't see what I saw, the power that flowed from him. He killed them all with a wave of his hand; it... it was incredible. If only he hadn't hidden, if only he had gathered us all and led us... maybe we would never have had to hide again, never have to make new homes, never have to worry about being discovered, about having to run away and start our lives over for fear of being tracked down and killed for who we are. You must feel the same way I do. Haven't you had enough? That every time you find a home, someone comes and takes it away just because we can do more than them? That we have power that they fear? Eric... I can't live like this. I'll find him. Even if it's the last thing I do, I have to convince him... there's no other way for us."

"That's a pipe dream, Y/N. Even if he gathers us all... forms an army... even among our own kind, there will be those who would seek to destroy him." He replies sceptically and stops to look at the frozen river. You sigh and shove your hands in your pockets, trying to warm yourself up a little.

"There will always be some. Is that why we have to keep hiding in our holes like rats? The Tsar will never change his mind about us if we don't act. We can't bury our heads in the sand, Eric. I'm not going to... I'm not going to let my children, if I have them, live in a world like that... to go through what we went through."

"Y/N..." He sighs and looks at you for the first time since you brought up the topic of the mysterious Shadow Summoner.

You frown as you see a glimpse of pain and concern in his eyes, wondering what could have caused him such a negative agitation. Before you can say anything back, suddenly an arrow flies near you and embeds itself in the ground not far away from you.

"Come with me." Eric takes your hand, not waiting for your reaction as he starts to drag you away.

He runs, pulling you in the opposite direction of where he heard the barking of dogs and the shouting of men. As you pass the arrow, you see the distinctive Fjerdan finish on it. You curse under your breath and speed up, running with Eric to one of the safe havens you and the other Grisha had set up in case the Drüskells 'witch hunt' resumes.

Unfortunately, you're running too slowly, or there are too many Fjerdans (you can't tell because Eric is pulling you along and setting your pace so fast that you can barely move your legs, let alone look back) to lose them. Your lungs are burning, and your heart is beating fast as you wade through the folds of snow.

You doubt that you'll be able to defend both yourself and Eric because you certainly won't leave him alone to these bloodthirsty men. Or that was the plan, before he pushed you into some Saint-knows-where hole big enough for one of you to hide.

"Stay here."

"No, Eric..." You hiss in desperation and grab his sleeve, realising he'll die if he goes alone.

"Stay here, Y/N. I will be fine. I promise. Just stay right here and wait for me." He cups your cheek in his hand and presses his lips to your forehead as you sob quietly into your hand, holding him tight by his sleeve, not wanting to let go. "Hush. I'll be back. I promise. Just stay here and be quiet."

Despite your efforts, he somehow manages to wiggle out of your grip. As he asked, you press your hand to your mouth and stop all the cries and sounds from escaping your throat. You close your eyes and focus on your surroundings, trying to feel the beating of hearts around you.

You shiver as the ground above you shakes with the force of the Drüskells that are chasing Eric. You try to help him in any way you can, slowing some of their heartbeats, tiring them out more, even managing to stop a few of them altogether—something you could never do in your lessons with Baghra. But it's still not enough; you still feel like there are so many more of them than Eric can handle alone.

So you do probably the stupidest thing, but the only right thing you can do in this situation. You come out of your hiding place and run in the direction Eric ran.

When you reach the clearing, the first thing you notice is him, standing surrounded by Fjerdarns. You see his eyes widen when he sees you, too surprised and frightened to notice one of the Drüskells sneaking up on him.

"Eric!" You scream and lunge at him, your hands moving in a practiced motion, manipulating the blood flow of the Fjerdan who wanted to attack him.

But you walk into the trap yourself, and before you can blink, one of them shoots you with an arrow. You scream in bewilderment and grab your arm, trying to staunch the blood while controlling as many of the Fjerdan soldiers as you can, trying to keep yourself and Eric alive for as long as you can.

And then, shadows spread across the clearing. You close your eyes and sigh with relief as their familiar coldness takes hold of you. Men scream in terror, hunting dogs growl around, but after a moment, everything falls silent. All you hear are two heartbeats: yours, calm and sluggish after losing blood from the wound you inflicted with the shot, and Eric's, quick and sudden.

Before you know it, you begin to sink to your knees, both physically exhausted from running and using your power and emotionally exhausted from almost seeing your deaths.

"It's okay. It's okay. You are safe. I got you." Eric whispers, stroking your hair tenderly as he catches you at the last second. And then something inside you suddenly snaps.

Suddenly, you remember the exact moment your mysterious Shadow Summoner saved you all those weeks ago, and as it turns out, he did it again. Eric could summon shadows. He used them to save you for a second time. He... he was the Shadow Summoner. And with that revelation, you faint in his arms.

When you wake up, it's not by Eric's side like in all those romantic novels you like to read before going to bed—your passion that Eric laughs at you for. No. You wake all alone in some makeshift bed. Or rather, you wish you would wake up alone, because the first person you see is…

"Baghra? Am I in hell?"

"You were close enough." The woman grumbles, pressing a cloth to your shoulder. You hiss as you feel the herbs burn your healer-sealed skin. "My stupid son got it into his empty head because of your little accident that the Drüskelle came here for him. So he left. To give himself to them."

"What?! And you let him?!" I ask angrily and throw the blanket off me. I reach for my coat and quickly button it, searching the small room for my shoes.

"You know him. What was I supposed to do? Only two things can stop this stubborn moose: you and his death."

You sigh angrily at her and quickly tie your shoes. You hiss when your haste and carelessness slightly strain your injured arm. But the pain you feel is only an annoying distraction in the face of fear for Eric's life.

"He left a few hours ago. To the north. If you concentrate hard, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat." Baghra advises you as you take a pair of daggers from her. "Y/N." The woman grabs your elbow and forces you to look at her before you leave in a hurry. "Bring him back in one piece. And yourself too. Saints knows what that imbecile will do if anything happens to you again."

All you can do is nod at her as you leave one of the rooms in your hideout. You push your way through other Grisha, trying to get out of the abandoned tomb you all have turned into a base and back to the surface as quickly as possible.

Your blood boils; everything boils as you think about what will happen if you don't get to him in time. You wonder where he even got that stupid idea of ​​turning himself in to the Fjerdans. It won't solve your problem. They'll still be after you, even more when they realise that they killed... that they killed HIM.

You run through the snow, following Eric's footsteps and praying to every known saint that you'll make it in time. You had so many things to tell him... so many important confessions that you were afraid of. You still are. You realise that... Eric didn't tell the whole truth about himself, but on the other hand, you know that in his situation you would proceed just as carefully and maybe even more.

He was the Shadow Summoner. He created something, creatures that could kill people with a wave of his hand. He was something completely different from you and the rest of the Grisha, something much more powerful. And you know perfectly well that they will only listen to him and follow him. If ever there is anything good for you, it will only be with his rule over you.

Luckily, Eric doesn't run far from you. A few hours later, you're able to feel his heartbeat in the distance, or at least you assume it's his. It's strange to admit to yourself that you know that delicate rhythm perfectly, that you've been listening to that song of his heart unconsciously all those nights you spent together by the fire, snuggled up together, supposedly seeking extra warmth, but in reality subconsciously craving the closeness of the other.

You loved him. Even before the Shadow Summoner thing came to light. And you know he cared about you, too. And you would do anything to keep him with you…to make him what you and the other Grisha needed.

You almost fall to your knees with relief when you finally find him. He stands by the frozen river, staring at it with a blank expression, his fists clenched, completely oblivious to his surroundings. In any other situation, you would have snuck up to him, thrown your arms around his shoulders, and berated him for his lack of attention, but now, all you can do is stare at him silently.

Seeing him makes you realise who he is, what he's capable of, and honestly, all those scary stories about the powerful Shadow Summoner don't fit the Eric you know at all.

But you knew that no matter who he really was… you would be there for him. With him.

"Tell me it's you." You say, pulling him out of his own thoughts. He turns to you slowly, staring at you as if he's seen a ghost, as if he can't believe his eyes that he's seeing you.

"Y/N, you should be resting in the hideout..."

"Tell me it's you. I... I know it's you." You interrupt him and take a few steps closer to him.

He frowns at you, pretending not to know what you're on about, but from the way his eyes widen for a second and his heart skips a beat, you know he knows exactly what you are up to.

"I am afraid that I have no idea what you are talking about. Did you hurt yourself in the head? Let me see."

"Don't make me look crazy, Eric. I know, it's you. I may be stupid enough to not realise it earlier, but I am not that stupid to not see it now. You were always there at every major disaster, saving the day, like you knew exactly where to be; you saw more than any of us... For God's sake, you never even summoned a single damn wind. Baghra lied that you had no control over your powers, that you practically had none, but you hid from all of us that you are... please don't hide from me anymore. Tell me it's you. The one we've been waiting for so damn long."

"I... you have no idea what you are talking about."

"Eric, please..." You reach out to take his hand in yours, but he moves away from you before your skin can touch for even the slightest moment. He breathes heavily, quickly, shocked to find that his best attempts to keep who he is a secret from everyone have been in vain.

"You don't know anything, Y/N! I am not even Eric; I... I don't know what I am. What you think I am... I am not. I am surely not anyone's saviour. Whatever you saw... you don't know what you have seen. I... forget about it." He mumbles, his eyes wandering on your figure as he decides what to do, what to say to make you change your mind, to make you doubt what you have seen.

You can see the internal struggle in him, as he wants to reach out for you, but at the same time, he is also keeping his distance from you. So seeing his conflict, the panic state he found himself in, all you want to do is soothe him.

"I see you." You interrupt him and cup his cheek in your hand, grounding him for a moment, making him forget everything else as he looks at you. The lump in his throat eases; he feels the tension in his body leave as you stroke his bearded cheek tenderly with your thumb. "I may not know your real name, or the amount of power and responsibility or pain you carry within you... but I know your soul. I know the man you are trying to hide behind your shadows... but I won't allow you. Not anymore."

He instinctively nuzzles his face into your hand. He closes his eyes, unable to bear your sympathetic gaze any longer. He knows he should do to you what he did to all those who came before you: push you away, make you believe he'll disappear forever, go along with his mother's plan, and let you think he died at the hands of the Fjerdans, but... he couldn't. Not with you. Not when you've become involuntarily an important part of his sour heart that's sought your light like grass hidden for months under snow.

He's been alone in the darkness of his shadows for too long. And if letting you in meant breaking him completely... then he thought a few years with you were worth every pain that resulted from the subsequent loneliness.

"Ever since you appeared, I've been running from something deep inside. And it's worse than I feared, because I look in your eyes, and I can't hide. I tried to push you away..."

"Don't push me away." You interrupt him and take a step closer to him.

"But the feelings come back, just twice as strong." He finishes his thought and wraps his hand around the wrist of your hand that’s still caressing his cheek, tangling his other hand in your hair and pulling you closer to him so he can press a kiss to the top of your head. "And I... I don't know what to say." He whispers shakily, closing his eyes and burying his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent like calming salts.

"You know just what to say." You respond in an equally uncertain, tearful tone, holding him tightly against you, not letting him move an inch away from you, not when you finally have him where you need him—pressed against you.

"I do not belong here. I do not belong anywhere. I never did. Every time I find a home, something happens to take that home away. You do not want such a stray like me."

"You are exactly where you should be. The way you feel when you're with me... Beside me... This is the most right… this feels the most right. Please, don't hide from me anymore." You say, slightly pulling away from him to look into his dark eyes.

He tightens his grip on your hair, his gaze on you burning, almost electric as he stares into your eyes as if they were the answer to all his questions and doubts.

You don't know what he finds in them, but they're convincing enough for him to lean slightly toward you, tightening his grip on your wrist and holding your hand against his cheek as if you'd even dared to think for a moment about letting go of him.

He brushes his nose against yours, a hot shiver running through you as you feel his breath on your lips, the beating of his heart speeding up madly, slowly becoming the only thing you can hear. You close your eyes, allowing yourself one quick breath before you lean down and connect your lips in a shy kiss.

He doesn't allow that insult. In an instant he's all over you, wrapping his hand around your waist and pressing you against him. He deepens the kiss, his full lips caressing yours with incredible gentleness and passion as you both moan softly, finally doing what your hearts have longed for for so long.

You start to lose your breath, but that's nothing when you finally feel his hands on you, the warmth of his body so close to you, the taste of his lips that turns out to be so much better than the best candy you sometimes bought at the market. It was addictive, magnetic, the most intoxicating first kiss you've ever experienced. And not because he was the Shadow Summoner, but simply because he was himself—your Eric.

Eventually, you have to pull away. Your lungs are burning, demanding your stolen heart, but they can't find their voice. Your heart is screaming with joy, pure excitement that quickly dies when you open your eyes and meet his worried gaze, the familiar frown of contemplation you've grown to hate over the past few weeks.

Whatever he wants to say dies on his lips as you silence him with another quick, needed kiss. You desperately think about what to say to him, how to convince him to stay with you, and you realise that you have only one good bargaining chip he could be truly interested in—yourself.

"Don't run away anymore. Don't run away from us... from me." You ask him, placing your hand on the side of his neck, moving away just a few millimetres—just so you can look at him properly, begging him not to leave.

"If you knew what I've been doing all these years… what crimes I've committed, what I've been a passive witness to… what I'm capable of… you'd curse me like they all before you did."

"You don't know that. You can't know. We've been waiting for you for so long, Eric…"

"Aleksander." He interrupts you, looking at you thoughtfully. His hand moves to gently cup your cheek as he traces the line of your lower lip with his thumb. "My name is Aleksander." He repeats in a whisper, causing a faint blush to form on your cheeks.

"Aleksander." You test his name on your tongue, and you know from the way his eyes soften and tears well up in them how deeply he is touched by the tenderness with which you say the name he has protected so much. His real name. "That suits you more. Please, Aleksander... Sasha... don't run away this time."

"I..." He’s speechless at the endearing nickname you gave him. All he can do is bury his nose in your hair and pull you closer to him, engulfing you in a desperate embrace as if you’re the one who’s about to run away.

And from the way he strokes your back, the way he breathes in your scent, you know he won't leave you. You've found the Shadow Summoner. Now all you had to do was stay by his side and help him unite Grisha. And while you were at it… you could take advantage of the special care he'd bestowed upon you. For as long as fate would allow.

Thanks for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it. I really appreciate any comments and kudos/hearts if you want to take your time to share your thoughts about this one. Have a nice day/night!! 😊🖤🖤🩵🖤🖤

[shewrites02]

Deserve | Toji Fushiguro x Reader |

A/N: My first JJK Work on my page. It just a drabble, but if you follow me for a while this is how all my hype fixations start lol

Request : Open

Word Count : 500

Leave a comment if you enjoy ! :)

Toji knows he doesn’t deserve you. Is reminded with every sweet touch your delicate fingers place on his face. You are everything he is not. Soft. Fragile. Good. Everything the sorcerer hunter is too broken to be. Still, it never made a difference to Toji what he felt he deserved.

He made peace with the type of man he is a long time ago. The type to take with no regard for feelings or apologies. The type to leave a wake of devastation if it meant getting what he wanted.

Toji Fushiguro was not the type of man to let you go just because he knew you deserved better.

“Fuck you Toji- Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. .”

You hope to spit the words venomously, but they come off your tongue in a broken whisper. Dragging the back of your hand across your cheek to clear your tears, you take a sharp breath. An attempt to gather yourself, regain your composure. This bastard does not deserve the tears you shed on him.

“ ‘Superhuman' but can't even look me in the eyes as you reject me.”

���C’mon doll, don’t be like that. I told you I didn’t want anything serious from the beginning.”

Toji’s voice does not quiver or quake in the way yours does. Does not hold any hesitations, or uncertainties. His words are sure, certain.

Something in the conviction of his tone short circuits your brain, has you reacting before you can think. Cocking your shoulder back, you swiftly bring your palm to the sorcerer's cheek, smacking him as hard as you could.

And he lets you.

Toji has faced far tougher opponents than you, and walked away with far less wounds. It wouldn’t have taken him any effort to foil your attack. Instead his head snaps to the side, and that blank look on his face is replaced with a pained smirk. Then his eyes meet yours.

“But you acted like you did ! Begged me to open up to you- !” All composure you might have had is lost as anger and hurt bubbles over in your chest. “ Don’t act like this is my fault.”

It's difficult to breathe. Suddenly all the air so readily available is being sucked away by the presence of Toji Fushiguro. You need to get away from here. Away from him. You need air.

You turn on your heels to head in the opposite direction. Shove through the crowded racing track in search of an exit. You can’t remember where you parked, but that is okay. At this point you would walk home if it means getting away from here.

“Y/n!”

Toji’s voice echoes behind you.There’s a part of you that has to fight the instinct to stop, hearing him out, search for comfort in his words. There another part of you, a larger part that can’t be bothered to listen to any more lies from the lips of fushiguro. That part keeps your head forward, feet plowing into the pavement.

There’s a clasp on your wrist, drawing you back before you can fully cross the exit’s threshold. The grip is unyielding against your persistent attempts to escape. Fear would engulf your body if you weren’t so sure of the culprit, so knowing of the feeling of those fingers against your skin.

“Let me g-”

“It’s my fault-” He proclaims, interrupting any further protesting you had. “ Just mine.”

You hate listening to the words as you speak them. They taste bitter on your tongue. Though that doesn’t outweigh your heart’s need to know.

“Why are you doing this to me Toji- why am I not good enough?”

The soccer hunter’s eyes soften at your words. He even shrinks in on himself, as though trying to shrill up into something smaller. Something more kin to what he’s feeling inside.

“I can’t love you- not like you deserve.”

“No Toji. You just don’t love me enough to try to be what I deserve.”

If you enjoy my content or if you have $5 to spare , please consider donating it to Besan . she is a mother trying so desperately to get her family out of Gaza. She is still so far away from her go fund me goal!

Operation Olive Branch Spreadsheet

I know everyone may not have the means to donate, but if by some chance you have an extra $5 to spare please consider donating it to the families trying to rebuild their lives in the Gaza strip.

[love-byers]

(same anon that previously sent an ask about the monologue, because writing all this just got me thinking)

Another thing to take note of is that Mike only talks in the past/present tense, but never in the future tense. He says "I've loved you every day since" but never "and I'm going to love you every day for the rest of my life". He's clinging to the past, he's refusing change. There's a line after where he says "And I’m not ready to lose you -- you hear me??". It's just so clear to me. Once he's ready, he can finally grow and allow new and better things to come into his life, and truly come of age. That's the kind of ending I believe is right for the show and those characters in a more general sense anyway.

OMG IVE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THE PAST/PRESENT TENSE STUFF THATS SO TRUE

i've always thought that it seemed like both mike and el were clinging to the past. it starts in the s3 epilogue when el says i love you too. its supposed to be taking the next big step in their relationship, maturing and changing. but mike realizes he doesn't want that, he doesn't want things to change. he doesn't want to get more serious with el. he yearns for the past when he was closer with will and didn't have the pressure of growing up and committing to el. and of course the idea of that scares him bc it makes him question the nature of he and will's relationship.

"And I guess...if I'm being really honest...I don't want things to change. So I think maybe that's why I came in here. To try to maybe...stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were."

i've analyzed the living hell out of this in a byler way, because it is undoubtedly coded towards byler, but i think there is a bit of mileven here too based on what happens in s4. here's some quotes/moments that made me think mike and el were clinging to the past because they know they have no foundation of a future.

"Bitchin' right?" "Yeah, yeah, bitchin'. Do you come here a lot?" mike is so dismissive of her here it's kind of funny

then there's mike bringing her eggos before their fight. he's trying to make peace with a staple from their past, but it doesn't work, because that's not what makes a relationship strong.

"You can't let those mouth breathers ruin you, ruin us." again a reference to a joke/phrase from their past. something they share, or should share. mike feels like saying that will draw them back together. but it fails

"They're nobodies. And you're a superhero." "Not anymore." i feel like this one speaks for itself lol

and the fact that the song playing over their fight is called "Eulogy", a track that plays during scenes referencing dead characters (barb, bob, el (before mike knew she was alive), billy) and metaphorical deaths, like el moving into the cabin with hopper. "This is your new home." it's representing the death of el's old life in the lab, and finding new beginnings. their fight was the death of their relationship, and even mike knows it. a fight you can't come back from.

[kkpaaw]

Au where Libber Left Jay with Maya and Ray

Basically instead of Libber leaving Jay with Ed n Edna she leaves him with two of her trusted friends, Maya and Ray. Meaning Jay grows up alongside Kai and Nya

Maya and Ray had no idea she ever had kid. None of them did. She was so secretive about her personal life once she married Gorden it concerned them.

It concerned them to see their air-headed yet cheery talkative friend so...quiet and reserved

So when Ray heard a quiet knock on their door late at night and went to open it only to see his old disheveled shaking friend Libber, holding a bundle in her arms, he was beyond worried.

At the time Maya was 7 months pregnant with Nya so movement was becoming a lot harder for her, but once she heard her friend at the door she didn't hesitate to go and see her, a 2 year old Kai asleep in her arms

Libber wouldn't respond to their questions and she seemed frantic constantly looking over her shoulder.

She would beg no plead for them to take Jay and safe to say they are confused

Who is Jay?

Then imagine their surprise when she reveals a 6 month old baby in that bundle asleep

W-when did Libber have a baby?!

Why is this the first time they are hearing about it?!

They try and usher her inside but she refuses, speaking nonsense and shuffling out of their attempted grasps. When they ask about Cliff she brushes it aside.

She just asks again for them to take Jay in, and that she can't stay, but she wants Jay to have a safe and loving home and she nor Cliff can provide that to him and she didn't know who else to turn to.

Maya goes to agree, but Ray cuts in saying that while yes they can take Jay in they will only do so if Libber at least stays the night and talks to them. It's too late for her to be out here and her actions make it seem as if she's being chased.

She goes to protest but Maya insists, nay demands and grabs her, bringing her inside before she can say anything else.

She stays with them for the night but the very next day Ray goes to check on her and she's gone, left behind is obviously Jay and a blue stuffed horse. Despite going out to try and find her they find nothing.

So they take Jay in and raise him alongside Kai and later Nya but they never really stop looking for Libber and they even notify Wu and the others about what's going on.

So yea basically Jay grows up alongside Kai and Nya so no Jaya shipping in this au

This does give Kai a bigger burden to carry when they inevitably vanish, but who doesn't love some Kai angst

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles Leclerc

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 35/? Word count: 1875 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 33. Successful Girl Era

"Never did I ever imagine I would do a shoot and interview for Vogue," Matilde said, peering into the mirror of the makeup trailer, her reflection framed by the soft, flattering lights. She adjusted the edge of her robe and glanced sideways at Charles and Carlos, whose hair was meticulously styled. The room buzzed with activity; stylists flitting around, makeup artists working their magic, and the occasional burst of laughter from the crew. "Have you ever done a shoot for Vogue before?" she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.

Carlos, who had been staring thoughtfully at his reflection, shook his head with a grin. "It's a first-timer for me as well. But I'm excited. This is pretty surreal. Never thought being a F1 driver would bring me this."

Charles, already in a professional styling session, looked up with a smile. "I have. This will be my second time for Vogue Italia," he said.

"Share your tips and tricks," Matilde responded. "Not gonna lie, I feel like I'm on The Kardashians. Eye patches? Check. Hairstylist? Check. Makeup stylist? Check. Stylist for clothes? Check."

Right at that moment, the hair stylist introduced herself to Matilde. She was telling the plans with Matilde's hair for the shoot.

The stylist removed the hair tie from Matilde's hair. "I have researched you and your looks and you always wear your hair in your signature blowout. I see your natural curls now. I'm planning to style your curls. They look stunning and very healthy," the girl said and looked at Matilde via the mirror while she touched the blonde curls.

Matilde stared at her reflection, her curls falling freely for the first time that day. She had kept her hair up in a tight bun, hiding her natural texture, feeling more comfortable with the sleek, polished look of a blowout. The thought of revealing her curls, of stepping outside her usual comfort zone, made her uneasy. She took a deep breath, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I was hoping for a blowout," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But if you think curls would work better..."

The stylist's fingers gently caressed Matilde's curls, as if trying to convince them, and Matilde, of their worth. "Trust me, they'll look amazing. We can do something really special with them. I promise you'll love it."

Charles looked next to him, picking up the conversation. He heard how the stylist tried to convince Matilde to wear her curls, but it made Matilde look uncomfortable and insecure. Who made her feel like this? Her curls were beautiful. "Your curls look beautiful on you," Charles said and warmly smiled. "I like them."

She looked at him, her heart skipping a beat. Her lips parted. She quickly looked away, hoping she could stop her cheeks from turning pink. Matilde cleared her throat and looked at the stylist, sharing a polite smile. "I prefer not to show them, sorry."

"No, don't be sorry," the stylist smiled. "No is also an answer."

The hairstylist began on Matilde's hair, doing a classic blowout. In the meantime, someone else started to work on her makeup and the outfit options were being discussed. The stylist noticed the Scandinavian style on Matilde. She thought it was fun to mix the minimalist style with the Italian fashion, but by only wearing Danish designers. The stylist thought it was cool to add a touch of home to the outfits for Matilde.

Her first outfit was a black shirt, white wide-leg trousers and flats. While she was being styled, Charles and Carlos had to wear the typical Ferrari outfit every team member had to wear during a Grand Prix. Matilde was the main person in this shoot and interview, so she had to stand out from everyone.

"Oh, my god," she whispered to herself when she stood alone in the trailer. Her look was complete. She was being styled by the best. She was wearing high-end designer clothes. Matilde took a deep breath and smiled. She was so incredibly nervous, but she was so excited. Photo. She grabbed her phone and took a photo of herself in the mirror.

As she stepped outside, to the track, she got greeted by a lot of people. She felt like she was a celebrity. A smile got on her face when she saw Charles and Carlos wearing their team outfit.

"I would almost say the team clothes look better on you than just the usual shirt," Matilde called out with a playful grin as she approached the two of them. Her teasing brought a laugh from both Charles and Carlos, who shared a glance at each other. Even the three mechanics involved in the shoot - Mario, Abele, and Alessandro - joined in on the joke.

"They got the looks, huh?" Mario chimed in with a wink. "I'll have them straight to work in no time."

Matilde giggled at their banter, her nerves now fading into the background. She pulled out her phone and waved it in the air. "Let me take a photo. You all look too good not to capture this moment." She snapped a quick picture of the boys, all of them posing with exaggerated seriousness before breaking into laughter.

The director of the shoot was asking for everyone's attention, wanting to explain the planning of the photoshoot. "I would like to start with the group shot with the car and then take Matilde for a few solo shoots. If we have time left, I want to bring in the drivers for a photo with Matilde. In an hour and a half, Vogue will start the interview with Matilde."

As the team began to set up, Mario approached Matilde with a step next to the F1 car. "Take your shoes off," he instructed.

Just like Mario asked, Matilde took her shoes off and stepped on the step next to the Ferrari. She looked around; so many people were moving around to get things happen. She waited for the sign so she could get into the car.

"Okay, we are ready," the director said.

With the help of Mario, she got in the car. "This is tight," she murmured, a hint of amusement in her voice as she adjusted herself, her legs now stretched out in front of her, the pedals just within reach. "And low."

"First time?"

"Yes," she replied softly, her eyes watching as Alessandro clicked the steering wheel into place in front of her.

It felt weighty, solid, and yet somehow more delicate than she imagined. Her hands hovered over the wheel for a brief moment before she grasped it lightly, her fingers tracing the contours of the controls. She had worked on many cars, and helped build engines that would power these machines to incredible speeds, but this... this was different. Now she understood the cocoon-like nature of the car; the way it wrapped around the driver, isolating them from the outside world, turning everything else into background noise.

"Let's do a test shot!" The director's voice echoed through the garage as he moved toward his setup, eyes scanning the camera feed on his laptop.

Matilde's breath caught in her throat as she heard the photographer's voice next. "Matilde, look at me. Boys, get ready, act like you're about to perform a pit stop," he directed.

She shifted her gaze toward the lens, focusing as the mechanics moved into position around the car, tools in hand, bodies tense as if ready to spring into action at any moment. The photographer circled around them, capturing every detail; her poised in the driver's seat, the mechanics ready for the pit stop, the perfect moment of anticipation before everything burst into motion.

But then, the director's voice cut through the organised chaos. "I need a cushion for Matilde, she's drowning in the shot," he said, his tone calm but decisive as he examined the test shots on the screen.

Matilde chuckled softly to herself, her amusement hidden behind a small smile. She knew she wasn't exactly built for a Formula 1 cockpit, and the seat, designed for drivers who spent hours moulding their bodies to fit every contour of the car, felt far too large for her. But at the same time, too small. She didn't fit the seat. She pulled herself up, so the cushion could slide beneath her. Once she sat down again, she could oversee everything better and her posture was more confident.

The photographer glanced up from his camera, giving an approving nod. "Perfect, Matilde, now just lean forward a bit more. There you go. We're back on track."

Just like Matilde was asked to, she leaned slightly forward, her hands resting casually on the steering wheel. She looked into the lens. And as Tyra Banks said: smize; smile with your eyes. She softened her expression, letting her eyes do the talking, conveying confidence and composure. At that moment, she wasn't just a passenger in the car; she embodied the strength and precision of the team surrounding her.

The photographer moved around, snapping multiple shots, capturing not just the car but the essence of teamwork. Each crew member had fallen into place, their movements fluid and unforced. They weren't merely posing; they were simulating the motions of a real pitstop, as if preparing for a race that never came.

Carlos crouched at the front, his hand lightly resting on the front wing, his gaze focused as if checking something critical. Charles, on the side, leaned into the shot, his body angled like he was ready to push the car forward from the sidepod. Behind them, Mario, Abele, and Alessandro hovered over the rear of the car, their hands on the chassis as though bracing to lift it, each man focused and immersed in the role they were playing. It was a portrait of readiness, frozen in time.

The photos turned out powerful, strong, exactly what the director had in mind. He smiled at the screen and nodded. During the moment, some words were exchanged with the Ferrari members and they smiled, laughed or reacted to it. It was a great way to see the dynamics within the team. The director signed to the photographer to continue shooting.

After a couple of group shots and different poses, Matilde shot a couple of photos alone. She sat in the F1 car alone, leaning out of the seat. Her elbow leaned on the car and her other hand rested thoughtfully against her cheek. Then another closeup was made outside of the car, the photographer captured her from being awkward, to giggly, to being serious. For another shot she got changed into a bright red suit that stood for Ferrari.

Charles' arms were crossed in front of his chest, but his eyes never left her. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he watched Matilde in the crimson suit, her confidence radiating in every pose. The red suit looked so incredibly good on her; it made him fall harder and harder for her. The heels she wore elongated her legs, adding a graceful edge to her stride as she walked across the track. His gaze followed her, taking in every movement, and then, a soft laugh escaped him. Then, as if knowing exactly where his thoughts had wandered, she looked over her shoulder, her expression effortlessly shifting into a playful yet sultry pose.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[iamfartoolonelyformyowngood]

Me talking a lot

Episode 1, School Day Dilemmas, introduces the roster of characters from the local high school and whether or not they should join a school club for nerds. Other members are called Rodney, Jaybird, Aaron and James. They decide against it and the club is shut down. We get introduced to bit characters like some genuinely affable cheerleaders, a toxic club about celebrity gossip, some nerds, some jocks, some teachers, artsy goths.

Episode 2, No Spoilers! is about Jane spoiling a comic issue for Jerry and how everyone accidentally spoils information to each other through increasingly convoluted means.

Episode 3, The "Thing" From Another Fandom, is about James trying to join the group and failing after having a one day trial. He is promptly kicked out.

Episode 4, Escape From Joe's Fantasy World, is about Bill, Josh and Pete breaking into Joe's Fantasy World to rob it and getting themselves trapped inside. Jane and her girl gang are outside and will only let them out if they do what the girls want. Pete sings the theme song to The Hair Bear Club. Jerry is babysitting his baby cousins and shows off his paternal insticts he shockingly has.

Episode 5, One Man's Trash Is Another Geek's Treasure is about Pete leading the group to go dumpster diving behind Burger Moat to get collectable Fantastic Four trading cards that they will never trade.

Episode 6, The Marathon Men, is an adaption of the comic The Marathon Men.

Episode 7, Unstable Molecules, is an episode about a school science project about molecules where people work in pairs. Josh and Pete work on stealing supplies for a model while Bill and Jerry examine an unstable molecule under a microscope and achieve nothing because they think they're irradiated and are either going to become superheroes or die.

Episode 8, Project 101, is about Bill and Jerry having to go to detention after school on Friday to work on their uncompleted assignment surrounded by normies. Josh and Pete try to host a club meeting at Josh's house and we learn all about Naomi Levy and her odd ways.

Episode 9, Slumber Party Blowout, is about three sleepovers at the Dickey household. The newly divorced mother of Bill and Jane is bringing a man home for dinner...and maybe more. Jane has her girl gang over for a sleepover. Bill has the club over for a marathon of the Creepshow movies (and the Tales From The Darkside movie at Pete's insistence) for his birthday that his mother forgot. It goes horribly wrong for all three parties.

Episode 10, Fatal Attractions, is about Jerry befriending and having the tiniest of crushes on a girl named Agnes. Pete tries to convince her Jerry's horrible, Josh threatens her and Bill spreads rumours about her. She stops talking to Jerry and he is upset.

Episode 11, Nerds vs Geeks, is about a group of nerdy backgrounds characters who've been around all season calling themselves geeks in the leadup to homecoming. Jerry is on bad terms with the three after Agnes still. Pete, Josh and Bill use underhanded tactics to make the nerds as unappealing as possible. They eventually confront the nerds who say they did this to get dates. The Midwest Comix Collective told them it would work.

Episode 12, Battle Of The Clubs. Homecoming night and Bill, Josh and Pete confront Aaron, James, Jaybird and Rodney. They argue and exchange side eyes. Jerry tries to talk to Agnes but she refuses to. He decides to just go home. A girl called Mandi offers to walk him home. They leave just before a massive fight breaks out between both clubs. Bodies are thrown, people are knocked over, lighting fixtures are damaged. Bill is trapped between bleachers and sets the building on fire with Pete's lighter. Zoom in on a cheerleader's mouth as she screams. Darkness. Eyes opening. We cut between POV shots of each of the seven being scolded for what they did. Bill ignores his mother to watch TV instead.

The end :)

Potential Welcome To Eltingville Episode Ideas:

Made this under 20 minutes because I am that brainrotted over this dumb pilot./Pos

The episodes will exist in my DREAMS!

[andreal831]

I found them under your coffin. So if couple of antique steak knives were the only thing stopping you from getting Elijah back, then here you go.

Haylijah in every episode -> -> 1.02 House of the Rising Son

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

part v

summary: when the real threat of losing you to someone else becomes reality, what will minho do?

warnings: mentions of sex, female masturbation

part iv • masterlist

Seeing him sit outside your door, almost as disheveled as you was the last thing you expected. He was wearing those godforsaken grey sweats again with a t shirt and flannel. The way his eyes raked up your body taking in your appearance made you feel small, seeing he was already dissecting every inch of you to figure out where exactly you had been.

"You weren't answering your phone... I figured if I sat out here you'd come out eventually..." He trails off, the question about where you were hangs off his tongue.

There's a brief pause as you hold his gaze trying to decide if you should answer with an explanation or another question. Silence follows as you move to your apartment door, opening it for both of you to step inside. If he wanted answers, he would have to work for it.

"... where.... where were you?" He said looking at you still trying to decipher what's happening at this very moment.

"I... I stayed the night with a guy I met last night."

The tension was thick as you swallowed, meeting his gaze. His face remained stoic, any hint of disapproval or disgust or anger was undetectable. He just nodded once as if to say he understood that was enough to answer his question.

"I'm sorry.. for not calling or texting to let you know I was fine... I'm also sorry for exploding on you yesterday. I know you didn't mean to be hurtful."

He nods softly looking down before speaking up.

"I'm really sorry for what I said... I just want you to be safe.. and happy most of all... Since, you seem fine, I'll head home."

He turns his back to you heading for the door.

"Minho.." He stops in his tracks looking up at you, keeping that stoic face. "You don't have to go... so soon..."

He sighs before walking over to you, he brings you in for a small hug before patting your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

It's all he gives you as he walks out leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment, somehow feeling guilty. His lack of a reaction felt jilting.

-

Minho went straight home, changing into gym clothes. He grabbed his bag, heading straight to the place he knew he could get out his frustrations in a safe way.

Throwing punch after punch into the body bag that swings from the ceiling. It isn't until Chan intervenes that he stops, the older warning him he needs to stop before he breaks his hand. Out of breath and sweaty, he reluctantly sits on the nearby bench where Chan watches as he takes off the glove revealing a very irritated hand, skin littered with popped blood vessels that would turn into bruises soon.

"What's up with you?" Chan knew him all too well, he could always tell the difference between Minho coming to work out to get a work out in versus the beaten down version of Minho that sat in front of him.

"She... She went out yesterday and this morning when I went by her apartment, she was coming back from staying the night at someone's place...."

Chan was fully aware of the longstanding feelings Minho had for you. He had known for years. Watching him get into a few relationships hoping to fill the void of not being able to have you as a romantic partner. Or whenever you got into a relationship and Minho would sulk like a battered cat. Chan sighs as he looks ahead.

"Okay, let me ask you this, why is it any different now then when she was dating someone?"

Minho can't meet his gaze.

"You know her better then anyone else, it was a fling, a one night stand that probably meant nothing-"

"She never stays the night." Minho's voice cuts him off.

"What?"

"She never stays the night, she always gone home after. So she either she liked it enough... or liked him enough... to stay until the morning."

"That doesn't mean anything, she could've been too tired to go home or.." Chan stops himself realizing whatever rational explanation he gave him wouldn't console his pouty friend.

"I just want her to see me... see me as someone who can be there to take care of her... Someone who could actually love her the way she deserves..." Minho trails off looking down.

"You can't keep sulking like this every time there's a slight chance that she either gets a boyfriend, which I am not implying that this is what this is, or starts to find interest in someone else... Either fess up or live with this reality."

Minho stares at his hands as bruises bloom over his knuckles. He huffs before standing up heading to the showers.

-

You stir the sauce around in the pot as the smell of sage & butter waft through the place. You can't help how easily you find Minho's scent pushing through even as you cook, it was almost nauseating. You place a headphone in your as you continue talking to Hyunjin on the phone. He was busy tonight and well... your body needed time to recover.

"I have a question and you can't make fun of me or laugh," You say as you take a clean spoon tasting the sauce before moving to put your gnocchi into the pan with the sauce."

"Okay, what's your question?" He asks hearing you stir the pasta around through phone, he imagines what you're wearing as you cook.

"When you asked me about the last time I had sex..." You say hesitantly waiting for him to laugh.

"Yeah, what about it?" He says matter of factly as he recalls the event.

"How... How did you know that I hadn't... in a while? Is that some sort of Alpha instinct that's kept secret?"

He stifles his laugh at the 2nd question not wanting to break the promise he agreed to.

"No, not necessarily... It's the same as when you kiss someone who's never kissed anyone before. You just kinda... feel it?"

"Are you say I was bad in bed?" You ask teasingly.

"God, no! It's just... I could sense... it had been a while and... I never thought of myself as someone who was stellar at sex but at minimum I know how to pleasure my partner," he pauses for a moment before continuing, "So with you, I thought you were either just really sensitive or... it had been a while... so when I asked it wasn't because I knew but just needed to reaffirm my initial... assumption."

"I don't know if I should feel offended or not.." You joke trying to come off as reassuring him that you were prodding for answers.

He didn't come off as some typical macho Alpha who thought of himself as a sex god but it was reassuring to know he knew himself well enough to be able to pleasure his partners.

The two of you continued to talk as you had your dinner with a small glass of wine to unwind a bit.

"I should probably let you go, have to prepare for my stuff for my classes tomorrow." You say with a sigh feeling a bit warm from the wine that made your cheeks tinge with a warmth that felt like the sun beaming down on you.

"When can I see you again?" He asks with a stupid grin that you can hear through the phone.

"Hmm... How about Friday night?" You ask in a flirty voice.

"Killing me here, I don't think I can wait that long..."

"First week back is always a bit chaotic so you'll just have to survive!" You tease as you stretch from your seat at the dinner table. He laughs warmly before reluctantly agreeing.

After letting him go from the call you clean up the mess from your dinner packing it away for a lunch for you and Minho tomorrow, an olive branch lunch that's packed with the a blueberry muffin you made for the morning. Food and gift giving was a mutual language between the two of you, that often meant gifting each other lunch or sweets.

You finally make your way to bed staring up at the ceiling as you try to get comfortable. You scroll through instagram for a bit swiping through peoples stories before you're forced to do a double- no, triple take at Chan's story. Chan was a friend of Minho and Jisung that you hung around often when you had group outings or house parties for 3Racha's demo releases. You had grown a bit closer to him with every time you saw him, he was another Alpha who had an understanding for your frustrations for other alphas of the male population.

The video was Minho boxing, repeatedly hitting a body bag... wearing was quite possibly the sluttiest thing a man could wear to the gym. It was a black compression shirt that the gave the perfect outline of his tits pecs in the shirt. There were very few occasions you had seen true anger or frustration from Minho, but it was obvious he was heated as he took repeated swings to the body bag that swung from the ceiling with the force of every hit.

Would it be wrong to admit how incredibly turned on it made you to see every muscle in his arms engaged making his pec's move and his stature seem so much bigger?

Either way it didn't stop you from you from watching it over and over until you felt the familar wetness pool in your underwear. Forcing you to reach beneath the fabric as you turned over rubbing your clit while imagine what it'd be like for him to fuck you with same aggression he took out on that body bag. Even as you orgasmed you couldn't help choking out his name in a whimper muffled by the pillow.

-

The next morning Minho came by to pick you up, driving you both to campus as you had worked out your schedules to work out so that you two would either start at the same time and likely end your days at the same time. He waited down stairs outside of his jeep waiting for you to come out, he always parked and stepped out to be the one to open your car door.

He watched you emerge with your shoulder brown satchel bag on and a bag of what looked like food. His eyes took in the way your hair perfect fell around your face, the perfectly slouched light wash of jeans and white buttoned blouse.

"Good Morning, Min, ready to deal with the nightmare of parking on the first day back?" You ask teasingly as you walk up to his side. He gives you a soft smirk rolling his eyes as he opens the door for you letting you climb in to the car waiting for you to settle before closing it and getting into the driver seat.

He wore his typical, light wash of jeans with an oversized grey hoodie that always looked so much cozier on him then anything else. It was typical for him as he didn't always want to wear sweats despite being a dancer needing the free flow of the material.

"The only thing I'm looking forward to is finally being able to choose good songs for the choreographies this year." He says as he starts the car.

Minho had recently stepped up into the role as captian of their dance crew this year. He was nominated by the last captain and most of his juniors, surpassing some of the seniors in which it would've been their last year to lead as captain. He had been the youngest member to get the position in the last 10 years.

"Oh that's right! What time are you supposed to meet today?" You ask as you open the bag of food you had brought.

"3:30pm, I'll be going over the rules and expectations then getting the new dancers settled in. I'm a bit nervous about getting them to see me as a leader of the group now.." He grips the steering wheel a bit tensely.

"It'll come with time but I'm sure you got it. And if they don't, then they're free to go else where if they don't like it." You say offering him words of encouragement. He glances over giving you a soft smile thanking you.

The car is filled with chatter and laughter, an easy feeling, a stark contrast to what yesterday felt like. A mutual unspoken understanding between the two of you to move forward. He finds parking in a building near your class as, before getting out you hand him the lunch you made him.

"Here, your lunch and a blueberry muffin of apology..." You say a bit quieter than you meant.

"Apology? For what?" He tilts his head taking the food staring at you with those endearing brown eyes.

"I don't know.. I just felt guilty about how worried I made you..." You say looking at him a bit solemnly.

"You don't need to apologize for anything, I was an asshole... However, I still will be devouring this muffin with or without an unnecessary apology." He says gleefully as he takes a bite moaning dramatically as the taste hits his mouth, making you laugh as he makes a mess of himself.

He couldn't help but feel simultaneously guilty and warm at the idea that you felt so bad that you needed to bake him a muffin for him to feel remedied. His dramatic eating of the muffin made the unease you felt from the day before lighter.

The two of you walked towards the english building, light chatting as he threw an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. Minho enjoyed the feel of you close against him knowing once you pulled away, the scent would be all over him for the rest of the day. The sweet smell of dark cherries and almond bitters that made him feel like he just walked into a bakery. He kisses the top of your head before parting ways, it was something he did often but this time it made your heart do a flip.

Moving through your classes with much ease, it's around 4pm you finish the last. You walk through the campus, taking in the breeze that blows through the shaded areas as the sun sits still high in the sky. You find the arts building, sitting on an empty bench with a book as you decided to wait for Minho to finish his dance class. You glanced through the window looking to see Minho at the head of the class leading, he looked like he was starting to go through the choreo he had made a few weeks ago to start the class on. You can see Felix's blonde hair bobbing around making you laugh as you see his half ponytail flopping around with every move.

Your laughing is cut short as you gasp for air seeing Hyunjin's reflection in the mirror dancing beside Minho. His body moving fluidly as he follows Minho's instructions, you duck down beneath the window contemplating on running away. It's too late for decision to be made as Jisung begins to approach about to yell your name in typical Jisung fashion. Abandoning your belongings on the bench as he begins to pass approach the open door that leads directly into the dance room, as you approach Jisung at a desperate speed to clamp your hand over his mouth, it's too late as he utters the first letters forcing you turn just in time to become in line of sight of Minho and Hyunjin who glance in your direction. They both wave with a smile on their face before the realization hits that their eyes are on the same person.

part vi

[scionshtola]

i started writing a whole thing about mir and her mom and then i realized i accidentally gave the briadis family the perfect set up for a tragic family empire tv show

[bi-writes]

I can imagine asking Ghost to take my daughter to the daddy-daughter ball, only not to be able to get rid of him once he brings her home.

"you what?"

you rest your forehead against your locker door, closing your eyes as you tune out the nonchalant voice on the other end of the phone.

he always cancels.

but this?

"y-you can't cancel," you say finally. "you have to go. you can't do this to her, are you fucking kidding me?" you put a hand to your forehead. "you're a fucking asshole. i-i bought her a dress. it's for fathers and daughters, i can't fucking take her. it's all she's been talking about, i can't believe you--!"

you kick your locker shut and take a seat, resting your elbows on your knees. he gives you another excuse, but you just blink away your angry tears.

"no. don't bother. in fact, i don't want to see you again. i don't want her to see you again."

you put the phone down, your hands trembling from how angry you are. you aren't even surprised that he's not calling you back.

he's never wanted her. never.

"sergeant."

the firm sound of your title immediately has you on your feet. you stand up straight, but you relax a little when you see it's just ghost. his head is tilted to the side, and he's watching you carefully from under his mask. you can't see his expression, but his eyes are intense. he's focused on you, very much so.

you wipe the few tears that are under your eyes, and then your phone pinging takes your attention away from him. you pick it up and curse under your breath, opening your locker again to grab your things.

"i'm sorry, lieutenant, i need to go. can i get back to you tomorrow?"

"it's pick-up time, isn't it?"

you freeze from putting your jacket on, eyeing him warily before zipping it up.

"yeah," you say finally. "and i have some bad news to deliver, so while i'd love to stay and chat, i really need to go."

"doesn't hafta be her father," simon shrugs, leaning up against the locker beside yours. "could be anyone."

you glare at him a little, "if you're trying to make some kind of crude joke about the lack of men in our lives, lieutenant, i'd be careful if i were you--"

you stop when he grips your chin tight between his gloved fingers. you blink, unsure of what to do, and he shakes your jaw a little.

"i could take 'er."

you frown up at him, too annoyed to notice how he bends a little more, his face nearly against yours.

"it's not funny, lieutenant."

"not laughin'."

"you..." you meet his eyes, deflating a little. "you...you'd...you'd do that for me?"

ghost merely clicks his tongue before letting you go. when you make your way to your car, he follows, and you try to hide your smile as you make your way home.

ghost exchanges his mask for something more discreet when you aren't looking. a black n95, but his eyes still kill the same. when you come back to the car with a little girl on your hip, she stares wide-eyed at the hunk of man sitting in the passenger seat. he raises a brow at her, saying nothing, and you swallow hard as you buckle her into her seat.

"uhm...this is ghost. can you say hi, honey?"

"ghost? like halloween?"

"like halloween, baby."

as you buckle yourself back in the drivers' seat, you side-eye ghost when you hear the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. when you peek into the rearview to reverse out of the parking lot, you see your daughter with a big smile on her face and a red lolly stuck in her mouth.

"always carrying around sweets, lieutenant?"

he shrugs. "maybe."

she makes him wait in the living room while you get her dress on (she wants a big reveal, coming down the stairs and all). you bought it off of etsy, a custom-made, princess-inspired dress. it has a big skirt of silk and tulle, with a big bow at her back, and when you look at her smile in the mirror, you feel that searing slice of something that makes you want to kill the man that almost ruined her evening.

she gets to do her big reveal. she spins at the top of the stairs to make her big skirt move, and then she's running down the stairs, giggling, laughing, and just as she makes it to ghost, he grabs her under her arms and tosses her into the air. she shrieks with delight when her big dress moves, and you bite your lip watching them. the sight of ghost hiking her up on his hip and commenting on her bow makes your mouth water.

fuck. have his arms always been that big?

they look funny. your daughter looks like the prettiest princess, and ghost looks exactly as he always does--like a SAS lieutenant. he might not have any of his gear on, but the cargo pants, thick boots, and windbreaker don't hide his physique.

"have fun, baby."

you come up next to her, kissing her face, and she clings to your superior, arms tangled around his neck as she waves goodbye. you give ghost the keys to your car, tell him to bring her back by seven, and then you pamper yourself while she's gone.

you drink a few glasses of wine. you take a hot bath. you pick a movie to watch and don't have to make sure the rating is at least PG.

when ghost finally comes back, you're laying on the couch with another glass of wine. pajamas on, blanket over your lap, and you smile when you see her passed out in ghost's arms as he closes the front door behind himself.

"asleep? already?" you giggle. ghost sets your keys down by the door before taking his boots off, and you watch intently as he carries your daughter up the stairs to put her to bed. you follow him, grabbing some of her pajamas from the drawer as he lays her down on the bed. you work together to get her little shoes off and shimmy her out of the dress, and as you get her into her clothes and back under the covers, she barely even moves. she's so tired, yawning and snuggling under her blankets, and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you blink up at your lieutenant.

he stares right back down at you. you reach a hand up and trace along the edge of his mask. it's quiet. inappropriate. he won't move away from you, and you won't move either.

you could get used to this. you could get used to watching more adult movies, drinking more wine, having time to fixed your chipped nail polish. you could get used to being bent over your unmade bed and fucked nasty.

you grab onto the crumpled sheets, arching your back more. your knees dig into the mattress as your ass hikes up, and ghost grunts as he uses your hips as an anchor and fucks into you harder. it's been ages since anyone's found your sweet spot, and ghost's cock is nudging it every single time his hips come back to meet yours. his thighs are nearly as fat as his cock, and you feel like your entire body is being rewired as he gives it to you so good, inside and out.

thumb against your clit, balls smacking your pussy, cock splitting you open--you used to think sex was made only for men, but maybe you just never found a real one to show you just how toe-curling it really could be.

if you thought it was good on your tummy, ghost shows you an entirely different feeling on your back.

it's so intimate. no one has ever looked at you this way before. his hands are intertwined with yours, and all you can do is cry and squeeze his hands as he sinks all the way inside of you and barely moves apart. in the dark, he takes his mask off, and you can feel the pant of his hot breaths as he grinds into you deep, slow, purposefully. the stimulation on your clit has your thighs shaking, and when you think the tears are too much, ghost flattens his tongue to lick them off before kissing you wet and languid.

ghost barely pulls out. he just circles his hips, punching back into you, and you see spots behind your eyes when he finally opens his mouth and groans into your ear. something about hearing his voice, hearing him falter, it makes you come. as soon as your cunt squeezes, ghost chokes, gripping your jaw tight and coming deep. you squirm underneath him, arching your back--he fills you up, so much so you can feel it spurting out around his cock and spilling out between your thighs.

you're too tired to protest when he sinks between your thighs after--you have to get clean somehow, right?

when you come into the kitchen in the morning, ghost is at the stove, your daughter on his hip and an egg frying in the pan.

he doesn't leave you when you take him back to work; and he doesn't leave you when you go back home. you should've known better, maybe. it's your own fault. ghosts like to haunt.

and this one is home.