#then run away once you get out of the car

[harbours-lighthouse]

you give jason todd a scare

(inspired by this post).

author's note — what’s this? another post about jason? wild.

You should have been home three hours ago.

Jason’s hands tighten around the handlebars of his motorcycle. The leather fabric of his gloves crease, slick with rain and pinching around his fingers. It’s not often that you hang back for so long afterhours, though Jason is well aware that you offer your help without second thought, often forgetting about everything else in favour of assisting where you can.

But it’s been three hours since your usual closing time, and you haven’t sent him a text yet. You always send him a text.

Clenching his jaw, Jason wipes his arm across his face harshly, brushing away the rain that lingers on his lashes. It’s not the vibrations of the engine beneath him that’s sending his thighs subtly shaking—no, it’s the adrenaline slowly inching into his system, the panic he can feel twisting inside his chest.

What if you’re alone in the pouring rain? Soaked to the bone?

The traffic light blinks green, and Jason squints through the sheets of rain while kicking back the stand. The line of cars jolt forward, brake lights dimming as tires roll across rain-soaked asphalt.

Exhaling sharply, Jason’s eyes constantly search around him, feeling as if he’s some sort of cop looking for the slightest infraction. None of Gotham’s cops do that here, but it’s what he’s seen in the few movies you’ve made him watch.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Jason murmurs beneath his breath, body leant forward as rain pricks against his skin, tapping violently against his leather jacket.

“Where? Tell me where…”

The traffic lights ahead glow a bright red, blurred by the onslaught of water, and Jason holds down several curses and a groan. He can feel the dread in his stomach, wrapping around his intestines as he slowly comes to a stop behind a white KIA.

He needs to reach your workplace—he has to see if you’re still there, and that, maybe, your phone is just dead. It must be, because he tried to track down the location of your mobile, but nothing had come up. No blinking blue dot on his screen revealed your location to him, and nothing on Earth would get him to ask Oracle to step in. He has this under control. He’s not going to panic. Not yet.

As cars rumble around him and the bike’s engine rattles beneath him, Jason silently berates himself for not having some sort of conversation about things like this with you. He should have given you instructions on what to do if your phone dies, or if you can’t get home for some reason—he could have prevented all of this if he had just given you the right steps to take. And what if you’re in more danger than he thinks? Wouldn’t it be his fault if you weren’t prepared at all or trained to some small degree in order to defend yourself? If anything bad has happened to you, that would fall on him. Without a doubt.

A horn blares behind Jason, echoing painfully in his ears. The lights have flashed green, the neon colour reflecting off the cars as they lumber forward again. He would have sent the guy a rude gesture over his shoulder, but you’re running through his head—bright eyes made gentle when they lock with his, and your words quiet and low like always. He’s sure that you speak quietly for him personally, like it’s your mission in life to never speak abruptly around him, and he’s never been able to explain to you why that matters to him.

But you’ve never needed him to explain anything. You’re too intuitive for your own good. Too understanding. Too good.

“Jason!”

His heart stops. Beats once. Skips a beat. Beats erratically again. That couldn’t have been…was that…you?

Swivelling his head around frantically, Jason pays no mind to the driver behind him angrily blaring his horn, the sound filling up the street. He knows he just heard you, however faint it was over the rain.

“(Name)! Baby!” Jason calls out, voice thick with worry.

“Jason!”

Yes, that’s you—that’s you.

And you’re flailing your arms above your head, jumping up and down on the side of the curb.With his pulse drumming inside his ears, Jason barely gives it a second thought as he floors it, weaving through the moving cars and crossing lanes to reach you.

People surrounding you glance at him wearily as the engine roars, but you don’t pay them any mind as Jason screeches to a halt directly in front of you.

You barely blink and Jason’s kicking the stand and hopping off his bike. For a moment, you think he’s angry as he strides up to you, with his brows pinched together and his jaw clenched.

Your mouth opens pitifully as you prepare to stumble out your rehearsed apology, but your words die on your tongue as strong hands wrap around your biceps, and Jason grapples you to him. A huff of air escapes you as you’re shoved against his chest, but the shock instantly melts away, and you grab fistfuls of his jacket in your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you say into his shoulder. Guilt gnaws at your stomach, and you let him tighten his grip around you, even if it feels like your ribcage might snap.

“My phone died.” Your voice shakes, and you squeeze your eyes shut as rain taps against your scalp. “And Meggie wanted me to help her with something after closing, and then her ride ditched her so we were trying to figure out an uber for her cause the taxis are terrible and—”

“Stop talking.”

You inhale sharply. “Okay.”

The silence feels tense, and the rain pricks into your skin like needles, sharp and relentless. But it’s nothing compared to the turmoil you feel on the inside, the guilt that’s threatening to send you into tears—but you can’t cry. No, this isn’t about how you feel, this is about Jason.

“Sweetheart,” Jason murmurs against your scalp, and you catch the tremor in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“I—baby, don’t do that again.” Jason pulls away, and he brings his large hands to cradle your face. You’re reminiscent of a wet alley cat, your hair sticking to your skin and your coat hanging from your frame, heavy with water. But he’s never seen you look as remorseful as you do right now. Any anger or frustration lingering in the back of his mind vanishes within an instant, as if it weren’t even there to begin with.

Purple and pink light from the overhead billboards reflect off your face, haloing your hair. You look beautiful, but more importantly, you’re okay. You’re safe, and he’s holding you in his arms. Despite the rain, despite the chill that clings to the air, your skin is still warm with life.

And that’s more than enough for Jason.

Shaking his head, he brings a hand to gently push against the back of your head and press you closer to him again. He presses a firm kiss to your temple, as if to hammer into your skin the relief surging through him.

Bystanders glance your way, eyeing what simply looks like two people embracing each other with an overwhelming amount of emotion. Feeling the panic in his chest slowly start to ebb away, Jason lets his lips fall to your cheek where he presses featherlight kisses.

You hum softly, fingers tightening around the creases in his jacket.

“I love you, Jay,” you say quietly, because you know he needs to hear it.

Jason’s heart rampages against his ribcage.

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

Thank you for reading, God bless <3

[artisiumstudios]

Au where Stan finds the duffle bag.

HEAR ME OUT-

Basically it’s like a week or two before the science fair, Stan is minding his business (sort of) and while he’s going through a closet/cabinet trying to find some supplies, either for the Stan’o’War or his car, he finds a duffle bag. Curious he rummages through the bag, inside are some toiletries, 20 bucks, and clothing- wait a second. Those are his; his shirt, his pants, his socks— all stuff he has been missing for a couple of weeks. He’s confused, scared, and worried.

Why would his stuff be in here? Why are there toiletries? Why is there money? And who put them there? Unfortunately he already has his answer. Pa was always clear that none of his children would continue leech off of him. If you had nothing to prove then you had nothing to take. The conversation behind the principal’a door swarmed through his mind. How long had pa had his bag packed? Was this always the plan? Was Stanley really that worthless?

But that didn’t matter because Ford wouldn’t choose a school over him! They were going to sail the world together and that would be that, to hell with Pa if he wanted Stan gone then fine he didn’t need him, he didn’t need anyone but his brother and the sea!

At first Stan wants to tell Ford about what he found, but decides not to because in the end it won’t be important. So he keeps quiet and decides to take the bag into his car, after all hey 20 bucks and he gets his stuff back! He can’t leave it in his room cause if Pa finds out he was snooping through his stuff, well he’d rather not think about that.

Then the conversation on the swing set happens, and Stan’s head starts spinning. So it wasn’t just Pa who wanted Stan out, Ford was willing to ditch him too. Stan feels betrayed and hurt, he doesn’t know what to say or what to do. He starts to question his theory, did ford help pack his bag? Was that why he had been so distant lately, feeling guilty for letting his Pa kick him out and even helping him with the bag?

Did ma know? Eventually Ford leaves, huffing from Stan’s lack of enthusiasm and response, mumbling about being jealous that he has a better future up ahead, not just some silly childish dream. Stan snaps, not physically, not with his words: just emotionally.

Fine if they don’t want him there then he’ll just leave. That night while everyone is asleep he grabs all of his money, more clothing, a sketch book, his comics— a picture of him and ford on the stan’o’war— and some other things he thinks might be valuable or just handy. And he drives away.

Nobody notices Stanley’s disappearance the next day, not until night has fallen. Ford cheerfully excited with his new full ride scholarship, goes and tells his parents. Caryn is happy, tears of joy falling down her face as she hugs her intelligent baby boy, his father gives a small smile and a nod— he gives his approval. But the mood changes once he questions where Stanley is. No one has seen him in hours, actually his car has been gone since early morning. They wait awake all night, hoping for some sign, some clue!

Filbrick grunts as he walks up to the closet, his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, his lips pressed in a tight line. He sighs deeply.

Eventually a report is filed, but there is not much they can do, if Stanley ran away then he isn’t missing, and the police refuse to do anything about that.

Anyways thats like yk the beginning of how this whole thing happens but here are some other thoughts and ideas:

Stan:

Without Filbrick telling him he’s not allowed back into the family without a million dollars, Stan isn’t as driven by money as in canon. He doesn’t have a need for large amounts of money therefore he doesn’t have a need to do sketchy jobs just to satisfy his need to have his family back. In other words he doesn’t have as much trauma as in canon and is actually more able to settle down without being on the run or in survival mode. The first couple of months he just spends driving as far away from the East as possible making his way over to New Mexico where he settles down, first as a bar tender then eventually as a mechanic, he lives comfortably in a crummy apartment but hey he doesn’t really need much

Unfortunately he does get bored, even if it’s not with his brother he does crave adventure. And while fixing a this guys truck he overhears of a town called Gravity Falls, where weird creatures tend to reside in. So you guessed it, he picks up and drives from New Mexico over to Gravity Falls Oregon.

He gets a small but nicer apartment this time around and first he works as a mechanic. Immediately he starts to get a sense of the place and its weirdness and he loves it! (Ford would love it here-) .

Since the blind eye isn’t a thing people have two reactions to the weirdness of gravity falls: freak tf out or shrug and go on with their day. Stanley being Stanley gets the great idea to act sort of like a monster hunter/ putting small attractions up with the less violent creatures, not the mystery shack, but more like the mystery circus!

Eventually Stanley gets the name Monster-Lee for his ability to be able to fight off creatures so easily (mostly through bribery or fists)

Ford:

He still leaves for West Tech, but now he's fallen into extreme stress/anxiety and a bit of depression. Why did his brother leave? Why didn't he say anything? Is he okay? Why did he ever let their father get between them, he should've spent more time with him when he had the chance-

Unlike canon, Ford has no resentment/grudges to hold over Stanley, rather he holds that anger towards Filbrick especially when he found out that he had planned to kick Stanley out-- for being the reason Stanley left.

While Ford does still want to study anomalies, he also takes engineering classes, he wants to develop better technology and hopefully resources for run away teens/homeless teens.

While he doesn't meet Fiddleford as his roommate, he does meet him at a robotics convention where they instantly become friends. After college they develop a small company based around the idea of being able to find people, now expanding into different areas.

Ford is a lot more open with the fact the not only is he a twin, but he likes to talk about his younger twin brother who supported him and always stood up for him.

Part of the development with the technology involved finding people in forest dense areas, especially with a lot of caves (please tell me someones seen that one chart) Which then leads them to gravity falls as their first test area, small enough to test their tech, but still forest dense to get sufficient results.

and then these three bozos find each other lol. anyways thats all i got , i thought of this in the shower like 30 minutes ago and decided to procrastinate on my HW writing this lol. anyways

[be4chywritez]

shot to the heart (and the nose) | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

You come home from college and Luke is smitten...maybe a little too smitten

beachy’s masterlist🐚

requests are open!

part two!

Growing up next door to the Hughes family meant one thing—hockey was a religion.

It was loud, it was competitive, and it was everywhere. If the Hughes brothers weren’t on the ice, they were playing in the driveway, tracking in mud from the lake, or tossing pucks against the garage door until Ellen threatened to take their sticks away.

And you?

You were the neighbor kid. Not quite in the mix, but not completely out of it either.

Your families were close—vacations together, barbecues in the summer, Christmas parties in the winter. You and the Hughes boys had spent years at each other’s birthday parties, running through sprinklers, roasting marshmallows, and competing over who could eat the most popsicles before Jim made you all go inside.

But if hockey was the Hughes brothers’ thing, quiet was yours.

Luke, in particular, had always been the opposite of quiet. He was the one making up rules for backyard games, the one yelling over everyone else, the one who would get so frustrated when you’d rather sit and watch than dive into the chaos.

He never bullied you for it, not in the way other kids might have, but he pushed—nudging you toward the action, insisting you could keep up, making sure you weren’t left out.

Jack and Quinn weren’t much different. Jack, the natural show-off, would always try to impress you (even if you weren’t watching), and Quinn, forever the responsible older brother, would make sure you didn’t get completely trampled by their energy.

Then, of course, you all grew up.

You spent high school buried in books and extracurriculars, aiming for an Ivy League acceptance letter. Luke spent it on the ice, chasing the NHL dream.

By senior year, your friendship had faded into nothing more than polite nods and see you at Christmas waves across the room.

And then you left for college.

Luke got drafted.

Life moved on.

Coming home after months at school was weird.

The air smelled the same, the roads felt the same, but you didn’t feel the same. Maybe it was the time away, or maybe it was the fact that being home again made you realize just how much things had changed.

The car rumbled up your street, your mom chatting about how good it is to have you back while you stared out the window.

And across the driveway, in the Hughes' kitchen, three heads turned in unison.

Jack was the first to react. He dropped his sandwich. Fully dropped it. “Holy shit.”

Quinn, still chewing, furrowed his brows. “What?”

Luke didn’t say anything, just stared.

Because there you were, climbing out of the car—same face, same features, but different.

College had done something to you. Or maybe you’d just grown into yourself.

Jack nudged Luke’s arm, grinning. “Dude. You seeing this?”

Luke was seeing it. That was the problem.

You were tan, your hair was different, your shorts were short, and fuck, had your legs always looked like that?

“Oh my god,” Quinn muttered, leaning against the counter. “Luke, close your mouth.”

Luke snapped his mouth shut, scowling. “Shut up.”

Jack just smirked. “Bet she still won’t talk to you.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

A few days later, you were walking up your driveway when you spotted Luke in his front yard.

He had his shirt on this time (unfortunately so) wearing a Team USA tee with the sleeves cut off, and ripping shots into the net with a ridiculous amount of force.

You should’ve known better.

Really, you should have known better.

Because one second, he was shooting.

And the next—

Crack.

Right to the face.

“Holy shit!”

Luke dropped his stick so fast it clattered against the pavement. In seconds, he was in front of you, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I didn’t see you,” he rambled, eyes darting between your nose and your expression. “Are you—holy shit, you’re bleeding.”

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your face. “Luke. What the fuck.”

“I swear I didn’t see you—”

“No shit.”

Luke winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair.” He ripped his shirt off in one smooth motion, bunching it up before carefully pressing it against your nose. “Here, hold this.”

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“Sacrificed my shirt for you? Yeah.”

“Oh, so chivalrous.”

Luke huffed out a laugh, tilting your chin up slightly to examine the damage. His hands were warm, calloused from years of hockey, and being this close to him was… distracting.

His eyes flickered over your face, studying you.

“You look… different,” he murmured, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You swallowed. “So do you.”

Luke smirked. “Yeah?”

And that was when you realized—he was still holding your chin.

And smiling at you.

And looking so unfairly good doing it.

You exhaled sharply. “Quit smiling at me.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I feel weird.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

His grin widened, slow and lazy. “Huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said easily. “Just thinking I should smile at you more often.”

You groaned, shoving his chest. “Oh my god.”

Luke just laughed, but then his expression sobered. “C’mon, let’s go inside. Mom’ll kill me if I leave you out here bleeding.”

Before Luke could even pull you up, the door to the Hughes house slammed open.

Jack and Quinn came speed-walking—borderline running—toward you, eyes bouncing between Luke, you, and the blood dripping down your face.

Jack, of course, spoke first.

“Oh my god, did Luke hit you?”

You groaned, still pressing Luke’s (formerly white) Team USA shirt to your nose. “You say that like he didn’t just slapshot a puck into my face.”

Quinn sighed, looking so unimpressed. “Jesus, Luke.”

Luke, still crouched next to you, lifted his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t see her! I was just—”

Jack cackled, pointing at Luke like he’d just won the lottery. “You obliterated her!”

“Jack,” you deadpanned. “Not helping.”

Jack waved you off. “No, no, because this is insane. You come back from college looking totally different, and the second Luke sees you, he shoots his shot—literally.”

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Jack, I swear to—”

Jack ignored him. “I mean, I knew he was gonna lose it when he saw you again, but this—this is next level.”

Luke shoved him. “Can you shut up?”

Quinn, ever the responsible older brother, rolled his eyes. “Alright, let’s get her inside before she passes out in our driveway.”

Jack smirked. “Or before Luke confesses his love again.”

Luke shoved him harder.

You just sighed.

The moment you stepped into the house, the familiar warmth of the Hughes home hit you—laundry detergent, whatever Quinn had been cooking earlier, and a faint trace of hockey gear.

And then—

“Oh my god!”

Ellen practically flew down the stairs, eyes zeroing in on your face.

Jim followed behind her, frowning. “Jesus, what happened?”

Jack, still very much enjoying the situation, grinned. “Oh, you know. Luke saw her for the first time in, like, a year and immediately tried to take her out.”

Luke groaned. “That is not what happened.”

Ellen, ignoring them, cupped your face as gently as she could, careful not to touch your nose. “Sweetheart, oh my gosh! You’re hurt!”

Jack, ever the instigator, added, “She is hurt, but also—she looks amazing, right?”

Ellen’s eyes flickered over your face—well, the parts of it that weren’t covered in blood—and beamed. “Oh, honey, you are stunning! Look at you! College has done wonders for you.”

You blinked. “Uh—”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Ellen, she’s bleeding.”

Ellen waved him off. “Yes, yes, I see that, but look at how grown up she is!” She turned to Quinn. “Quinn, tell me she doesn’t look gorgeous.”

Quinn, handing Luke an ice pack, huffed out a laugh. “She does.”

Jack smirked. “Luke sure thinks so.”

Luke whipped around. “Jack, I will actually—”

Jim chuckled, finally stepping in. “Alright, El, let’s fix her up before we start matchmaking.”

Luke, still looking like he desperately wanted to disappear, guided you to the kitchen table and sat you down. “Okay, let me—uh—yeah, just—” He fumbled with the ice pack, hands slightly shaky.

You raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah. Just—quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like—” Luke exhaled sharply. “Like that.”

You smirked. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

Jack howled. Quinn raised his eyebrows.

Ellen gasped like this was the best news she had heard all day.

Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

Luke groaned.

And you?

You just smiled.

It was going to be a great summer.

part two!

[rabbitwitch2poems]

Story turned out a little different than I planned at the end but it all works out ^^ part 5 to the story based off a prompt by @ready-to-read7

        Danny was vibrating and he was pretty sure even the neighbors could hear the purr/hum coming from his core. Today was the day! He gets to meet all of moms cool hero friends! He only really learned the bare bones of this universe before choosing it, the heros, villains, side kicks, all those people fighting to help others; it's why Danny chose this universe in the first place! But he only really knew about five heros, there was the creepy hero of darkness Batman, (he was kinda worried about that man, but then again he had a fear of the dark before he became a halfa so that's probably why)

        

          He also knew about the zooming man called flash, the green lanterns, his momma, and last of all the one that is the most cause of his humming, the invincible superman! Danny always admired how someone from the stars grew up on earth and chose to be it's protector! Danny spent hours in his room at CWs haunt in the ghost realm watching the man in the red cape saving people, helping those who were suicidal, stopping disasters from harming others, stopping villains, and yet always having time for his family. Danny had to admit he was his second favorite after his mother that he admired the most. Also helps that superman was an alien from another planet, he had so many questions! 

          A gentle knock on his bedroom door followed by his mother entering with her classic smile, "you ready for breakfast my little one?" She asked chuckling at the child nodding quickly and zooming past her to get to the kitchen. Momma always made the best breakfast, she usually tried to keep him on a healthy diet with the occasional snack, but breakfasts were where she shined. Arranged in batches were small plates of fruit, yogurt, freshly baked bread, and glasses of milk and juice all encircling a plate with bread and some kind of food on top. 

       "That is called strapatsada, my own mother would make it for me in the mornings" she smiled after speaking as if remembering a good memory, "now eat up, once breakfast is finished we get prepared for our trip." 

     Young Danny loved the food, scarfing it down like someone who was lost out to sea for months before running to his bedroom to get dressed. By the time he exited his room his mother was also all dressed and ready. The drive didn't take long seeing as their home was just a couple blocks away from the main entrance, though Danny was confused as his mother drove into a small alleyway with a broken down looking telephone box (talk about ancient tech!) 

  "Okay my little warrior here is where we get to mommy's friends," his mother exclaimed causing Danny to be more confused. 

"Momma dats a wox," the child responded causing his mother to chuckle. 

"Oh my little one it's merely a disguise for the transporter that will take us up there," she said pointing at the sky.

It took Danny a second but once he realized what momma ment his eyes went wide as he started hopping in the car seat and trying to unlatch the buckles keeping him there causing his mother to laugh as she got out of the car and quickly moved to get Danny out of his seat.

     Upon a closer look the supposed transport was just a phone box... Almost completely glass with a metal frame and a phone with no receiver. Upon entering the small place momma entered a long string of numbers and a voice emanated from around them, "unknown person inhabiting transport pad, please leave and try again," his mother sighed deeply and looked down at Danny with a small smile then back up at the phone with a flat emotionless face.

"Wonder Woman 003 override, allow me and my child in immediately or I will turn you into a box of scrap," there was a small pause after his mother spoke, as if the voice was considering their options before responding, "authorized,  Wonder Woman 003, child alpha 9 001"

    A sudden white light engulfed them causing Danny to cling to his mom before suddenly they were walking through a large portal looking thing (a pang of fear echoed from deep in Danny's core though he can't remember why this object would cause such a feeling). Before him was a sight to behold, a large round table in the center of a giant room with glass walls showing the stars, moon, and earth (if Danny could die again he would have thought he died and went to the Elysian fields or his own personal haunt in the ghost zone). Technology of all kinds where everywhere and people were walking to and from places; most of them heros! 

     It seems that they interrupted a meeting in progress, Batman and Superman were standing up pointing at a large hologram floating from the center of the large table. Along the table sat The Flash, two green lanterns, two people dressed up to what Daniel thought looked like owls, a man who looked like he was wearing a fish with a trident and a long beard (the guy was buff and Danny wondered for a small second if wearing fish made you superhuman) and lastly a woman wearing a cool looking leather jacket. Of the group of superheroes only the flash wasn't currently gawking at Danny and his mother. This was rectified by the woman who looked like an owl grabbing Flash's head and forcefully turning it towards them. 

   "Ow.... Hey! I was asking bats a....why is wonder woman holding a baby!" Flash's jaw dropped to the table as superman flew up towards the unexpected visitors. 

   "Diana....uh... Care to explain?" Supes asked as Batman walked up behind him responding to Clark's question with one of his own, "you have not been gone long enough for that to happen naturally, so I assume you found the child?"

   Danny scrunched in on himself pushing his face into his mother's neck, he didn't like the man with pointy ears. His momma stood straight holding him close and gently parting his back as she glares at everyone. "I found him on the mission with Clark, he is my ward and my child, end of story" 

      Superman looked confused floating down to the floor and walking closer to the two, "..Diana... Are you saying that child was the orb you took?" Danny turned to look at the man in blue and red with awe waving slightly at him and giggled with joy when he smiled and waved back. His momma nodded as she watched the interaction, "yes the orb turned into Danny, he was most likely made by the gods and the fates deemed me worthy to be his mother" 

     You could hear a pin drop from the lack of noise that followed his mother saying those words, Superman looked worried, batman huffed, flash was too busy eating five granola bars at once to notice and the lady in the black leather jacket got up and walked over to them. Danny could feel the emotions this woman felt, fear, curiosity, worry, and one he couldn't place a word for. 

     "Are you shure that is a good idea wonder woman? A random baby appearing from a crystal could be something different than gods," the lady in the jacket said; his mother's grip tightened on Danny a little as she nodded, "gods or not he is my child now Canary, he has displayed gifts like many of us so I brought him here to introduce him to everyone." Canary, the one momma was talking to, nodded as Batman walked up closer and reached out for Danny causing the child to flinch.

    

      The reaction from his mother was almost instant, faster than most eyes could detect (except flash but he was currently coughing from food going down the wrong tube) Batman wrist was in his mother's hands and held far away from Danny. Everyone in the room was on their feet in an instant as his mother glared at the man in black, "you scare my child again Batman and I will break it," these words were followed by his mother flinging the man's arm away like a snake as Danny was carried over to the table and sat in his mothers lap. 

        It took a couple of minutes for everyone to calm back down, Batman's face was as still as a statue as Superman checked his wrists for any fractures as the woman dressed as a hawk and Canary asked his mother questions. Most were basics, how did she find him (he appeared from the crystal she found while taking stolen items from Lex,) how old is he, (his mother said from what she can tell he is now almost a year old), which Danny nodded smiling at the two across from them as they smiled back. 

      When Superman and Batman finally sat back down at the table the important questions were asked. 

      "What are these gifts you were speaking of Diana?" The man in blue and red asked giving a gentle smile to Danny (Danny could feel worry and kindness coming from the man which made him relax a little) 

      "So far he can fly a small amount and turn invisible but he says there are more that may appear," his mother responded to the question as everyone's eyes turned to Danny at her response

         "The little tyke can talk already?" The flash had finally finished eating and focused on danny who focused on him in turn. He almost got dizzy from the amount of emotions that were flying by from that man in all red. Danny didn't know how but something about the energy within those emotions felt...familiar, like a ghost he once met though he can't remember who. His mother looked down at him and patted his back, "like I said, he has many gifts from the gods, would you like to say hello little warrior?" 

       Danny was hesitant at first, everyone was staring at him, but like his momma has said before to him, a warrior never gives in to fear and works hard to fight it back, so with a deep breath Danny nodded and said, "h...hewwo... I am Danny, you all weer weird clofing like momma," this sentence to Danny's joy caused everyone around the table to start chuckling, even the scary Batman gave a small smile amusement circling his dark emotionless aura. 

       Superman smiled in return and nodded, "okay well we have a new topic of discusses which can be continued after the update, since you missed most of it wonder woman me and batman will start from the beginning." This caused a bunch of groans which made Danny giggle, adults and their need for time, Danny sat back against his mother settling in as the conversation switched to be about some bad men doing bad things, Danny was tired from all the emotional energy and events that slowly he drifted off to sleep, happy that he got to be in this world of heros, he couldn't wait till he was old enough to help momma fight bad guys. 

                                       *********************

       Danny yawned loudly as he stretched in his mother's lap his eyes slowly opening and adjusting to the bright light of the florescent lighting of the watchtower. Rubbing his eyes he looked around him, most of the heros were gone except for superman, batman, and the cool lady in the black jacket, Canary was what momma called her, must be a hero name the boy thought. 

       Superman was staring at him, batman seemed to be looking at his wrist for some reason, and Canary was smiling as she moved to a crouch besides him and momma. "Hi Danny, your mom updated us on everything, you sound like a smart kid from what Diana has told me, we all decided that since you came from a gem.." 

"Core" Danny interrupted her causing her to pause, "core?" She asked and Danny nodded, "issa core as far as the clockman told me." Confusion, from everyone, even momma, Danny scrunched in on himself, did he say too much? Are they going to take him away from momma? Danny sure hoped not or else he would cry. Momma seemed to sense this and kissed the top of his head, "no one will take you from me little one, you can tell us more when Constantine gets here." 

    Oh no... Danny recognized that name and not just from his time viewing this world through a screen. "What in the bloody hell did you do!" Danny sighed internally as he turned to meet the eyes of the British man who just arrived through the big round portals. Constantine stopped in his tracks staring back at Danny with wide eyes, terror/fear/ oh gods we are doomed/ and other splashes of emotions crossed Constantine's face before he coughed and pulled out a piece of paper drawing something on it. 

     "Constantine what are you..." Batman began his question but was quieted by a finger held up from the man in the trenchcoat who looked like he just came out of a sewer (Danny wouldn't be surprised and neither would Batman) after he finished drawing on the paper he walked briskly over to Danny and kneeld before holding the paper out to him, "I don't know what these fools did to get you here but seeing as I'm not a f....bloody fool,(Constantine substituted what he wanted to say after a glare from Danny's mother) here is a summoning sygil so your highness can contact me at any time," he stood up and pointed at Batman,

        "no blood tests till after he is a teenager," he said before looking at his momma, "best of luck princess, you got the whole world in your hands, mabey even the entire multiverse." With that he pulled out a lighter and carved a hole out of fire into the air before walking through. Danny looked around at everyone staring at him and sighed, he was hoping he wouldn't have to explain this so soon but now he had no real choice. He was about to say something when his mother's hand went over his mouth. 

       Pausing he looked up at his mother who, showing how cool she was, was calm even with this new information and was looking around at the three other heros, "we shall talk about this in a more private area, Bruce, how do you feel about showing my son your home?" Danny blinked up at momma, if she thought the scary man was the safer place he wouldn't say anything against it...just... Did this man live in a cave? Danny had a bad feeling he lived in a cave. 

[tortillamastersblog]

First Date | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: foul language, a shit ton of fluff, and smut (if you squint)

Summary: After recovering and moving to New York to start your new life, you finally take Sam on a first date. . .

Masterlist

_______________________________________________

"How do I look?" | ask, fixing my collar nervously in front of the mirror.

"For the hundredth time, you look great!" Liam exclaims, and I glance at my phone to see him nodding encouragingly on my screen.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair once again before dropping my arms and turning away from the mirror.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," | admit, picking up my phone while Liam laughs.

"You're ridiculous. You're not going to throw up. Why are you so nervous anyway? You've been living with Sam for almost three months now."

I shrug on my jacket and crouch down to slip on my shoes. "I don't know! It's just... this is our first real date and I want to impress her." I look at my phone to see Liam's face softening.

"I get that," he says gently, "but there really is no need to be nervous. This is Sam we're talking about.

She loves you so much, she'll be impressed no matter what you do, or where you take her."

"I guess you're right." | take a deep breath and grab my keys.

Sam and I moved in together after I got out of the hospital. At first, I went to live with her and Tara in their old apartment, but since then I got a new job at Liam's company and the apartment that comes with it. 

Tara moved into an apartment of her own with Anika and Mindy.

They live close to campus, while Sam and I live on the upper west side. It's the same building Liam lives in, but he's currently on a business trip in Dallas, hence why he's on the phone with me for moral support rather than being here in person.

Sam is at Tara's, getting ready for our date since Tara, Mindy, and Anika insisted it would be cute if I didn't see Sam all dressed up until I went over to theirs to pick her up.

"Of course I'm right," Liam teased lightheartedly.

"Now go and have fun! I'll talk to you tomorrow." I snort, but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hang up and I take another look at myself in the mirror before squaring my shoulders and leaving the apartment.

I lock the door behind me and take the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the parking garage. It's just as fancy as the rest of the building and it spares me the trouble of finding a parking spot out on the street which is always a nightmare.

The bouquet of red roses I got earlier sits on the passenger seat of the car when I get in and I make sure it’s secure before starting the car and making my way across the city.

It's a surprisingly short drive because for some reason there is barely any traffic. There's also a parking spot right in front of Tara's apartment building which makes my heart skip a beat because I thought l'd have more time to prepare myself for seeing Sam.

I have no idea what she's going to wear, but Tara texted me a couple of minutes ago, telling me I'm going to faint when I see her.

I grab the flowers and hop out of the car, tapping my foot nervously on the elevator ride up to the apartment. I love Sam, and I know she loves me, but after all is said and done, this is still our first date and I want it to go well. 

“Oh hey! You’re right on time!” Anika greets me at the door and even goes so far as to pull me in for a hug. We aren’t exactly close, but ever since I saved her life she’s been extra nice to me. 

“Hey, Anika.” I smile and shift on my feet nervously.

“Babe? Is that Y/N?” Mindy calls out from somewhere in the apartment and Anika shouts back a yes, which makes Mindy appear a moment later with a smirk on her face.

“Hi, Y/N.” She pulls me into a careful hug, making sure not to ruin the flowers. “You look dashing.”

I feel myself blush and avert my eyes momentarily, clearing my throat. “Uh– Thanks, Mindy.”

When I look back up, Mindy’s smirk has turned into a soft smile and she and Anika share a knowing look before ushering me into the apartment and closing the door behind me. 

“Tara and Sam will be right out,” Anika explains, and not even a second later, Tara comes bouncing around the corner.  

“Y/N!” she exclaims happily, however unlike Mindy and Anika she doesn’t close the distance between us to hug me. She simply stops by the corner and smiles brightly, her eyes darting between me and the hallway to her left, which is shielded from my view. 

And then I hear it. The telltale sound of high heels on the hardwood floor.

Sam.

I hold my breath and wait patiently for her to appear,and when she does, I really do feel like fainting. In a regular shirt, she’s already stunning, but right now she’s simply breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple black, one shoulder dress that has a slit running up the length of her thigh and a pair of matching black ankle strap heels. The front of her hair has been tied back, so it’s out of her face while the rest of it flows down her back in soft waves. To tie back the entire look, she’s applied some makeup to highlight her dark eyes, her lipstick a soft red so as to not distract from her eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly with a shy smile on her face.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes off her. We’ve not even left the apartment yet and she’s already got me swooning over her. 

Tara, Mindy, and Anika watch us staring at each other, amusement on all of their faces before Mindy clears her throat, prompting me to finally move.

I step further into the apartment and hold out my hand, my knees almost buckling when Sam takes it with a dimpled smile. I notice her nails are painted the same shade of red as her lipstick, and it makes me marvel at just how much thought and effort she’s put into her appearance tonight.

“You look–” Good? Great? Beautiful? No. None of those words describe the way she looks right now. I bite the inside of my cheek, and squeeze her hand before finally settling on, “-- absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” Sam looks away shyly before meeting my eyes again, this time with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You look amazing, too.”

I snort because I wouldn’t even dare to compare our looks tonight, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, I bring the bouquet of roses between us and say, “These are for you.”

Her eyes light up and she glances at the roses before looking back at me. “For me?” she asks quietly which makes me chuckle softly and nod. “Thank you.”

She takes them, her cheeks now redder than before and intertwines our fingers. 

“You’re welcome.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to smudge her lipstick, so I opt for giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

Damn. She even smells great. Is that sandalwood? 

Sam nods and I squeeze her hand before turning back around to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika still watching us.

Tara and Anika both look like they’re going to melt, and despite Mindy trying to play it cool, I can also see affection dancing in her eyes. 

“You two are so cute, I love it.”  Anika sighs and takes Mindy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Aren’t they cute?” she asks and Mindy just shrugs.

“I guess,” she admits when Anika shoots her a disapproving look which makes all of us chuckle.

“They’re cute and hot,” Tara teases with a smirk. “I mean, honestly guys, you’re like the power couple of all power couples!” 

Sam laughs bashfully and tightens her hold on my hand while I groan. “Sproouuut!”

“What?! It’s true,” Tara insists before her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve this. Enjoy your night.”

My cheeks are still warm, but I smile gratefully and dip my chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

Mindy and Anika wish us a great night too and then we’re off. 

It’s a little cold outside since it’s the beginning of March, so before we exit the building, I stop and take off my jacket, draping it around Sam’s shoulders before leading her the rest of the way to the car.

I make sure to open the door for her, which earns me another shy smile. It makes me feel accomplished and I quickly get into the driver’s seat to start our drive to the restaurant.

So far, so good, I think. 

“Where are you taking me?” Sam asks after some time when I come to a stop at a red light. 

I glance at her before looking back at the road and shrug casually. “It’s a surprise.”

“What? Still?” she whines playfully and out of the corner of my eye I can see her pout. 

I chuckle softly and reach over to squeeze her thigh quickly.  “Mhmm.”

The light turns green and I’m quick to take my hand back to put it back on the gear stick.

Sam huffs, but doesn’t push it. She places her hand on my thigh instead, and takes my phone with her other hand to change the music . 

Her warm touch makes my stomach do flips and for the rest of the drive I rest my hand on top of hers every chance I get.

“Alright, this is it,” I say when I finally pull up next to the high rise the restaurant is in. 

Sam’s jaw drops and she takes in the glass facade of the building with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” she asks and I just smile, getting out of the car and handing my keys to the approaching valet who’s dressed in a sleek black tux.

Then, I round the front of the car and open Sam’s door, offering her a hand when she gets out, which she gratefully accepts. 

“Y/N… What is this? What are we doing here? Is this a joke?” she asks, which makes me laugh softly. She goes to take the roses with her, but I stop her with a tug on her hand. They’d just get in the way in the restaurant, and it’s not like they’re going to wilt if they’re without water for another two hours or so.

“It’s not a joke, Sammy. We’re having dinner here. Well, not here, but in the restaurant on the sixty-eight floor,” I explain, watching her take in the building one more time before her eyes land back on me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I pulled a couple of strings to get a reservation tonight, but for her, I’d do anything. Yes, the food will probably be overpriced, and the other customers will probably be snobby and stuck up, but it will all be worth it for the view and the experience. 

“T-this is too much.” She hesitates when I go to lead her into the building, so I turn back around with an encouraging smile, letting go of her hand to wrap my arms around her waist.

She steps closer and I place a kiss on her forehead, making her close her eyes momentarily. “It’s not too much, Sam. I love you, and you deserve the world, so please let me treat you tonight.”

Sam looks at me with uncertainty shining in her eyes, so I place another kiss on her forehead, this time between her eyebrows. 

“Please?” I whisper and after another moment's consideration she nods. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she says, cupping my cheeks. She leans up to kiss me, still having to do so despite her heels, but I pull back which makes her frown.

“Your lipstick,” I try to explain, but she rolls her eyes and kisses me softly. 

After more than four months of being together, kissing her still sends shockwaves through my body. My cheeks feel like they're on fire where her hands are touching them and my lips tingle when she pulls back, mumbling, “I don’t care,” before pecking my lips once more and pulling away completely.

I stare at her like a love sick fool and smile sheepishly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies easily and after making sure her lipstick isn’t all too smudged, we finally make our way into the building and up to the restaurant.

I keep catching Sam glancing at me over her menu, so after the fifth or so time I put mine down and smile at her quizzically. “What?”

She looks around the dimly lit restaurant as if she’s afraid of someone overhearing her before leaning forward in her seat and saying, “This is weird, isn’t it? Why am I so nervous? We live together for God’s sake, and we’ve had dinner before. Not like this, obviously, but still. I mean, how come there are no prices on the menu? Is that normal? Is that how fancy restaurants like this trick you into ordering something super expensive or–?”

I laugh softly and place my hand over hers on the table, effectively cutting her off. “It is a little weird because we’ve never done this before and I’m nervous, too, but let’s not let the fact that we’re on our first official date be the reason why we have a bad time.” I smile  and bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Also, no, the restaurant isn’t trying to trick you into getting something super expensive. You just don’t have the prices on your menu because the waiter gave you what they call a ladies menu.” I grab my own menu and turn it around to show her that I have one with all the prices on it. “It’s weird, I know, and it’s a pretty outdated concept, but it is what it is and I want you to get whatever you want without feeling guilty about the cost, so maybe it’s a good thing.”

Sam presses her lips into a thin line because she still feels bad that I’m willing to spoil her all the time, so I send her a reassuring smile and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. 

“Come on, live a little, Sammy. What else am I supposed to spend all my inheritance on except you and Tara?”

That makes her crack a smile and after a while we’re ready to order.

While Sam gets the Coq au vin, I order the mushroom risotto, and when the server asks us if we want wine with our food, I decline politely.

A glass of white wine would pair great with my risotto, but Sam can’t drink because of her meds, so I’m not drinking either.

“So,” I say as soon as the server is gone again. “How was your day?”

Sam turns her attention from the brightly lit city outside to me and raises an eyebrow as if asking if I really want to hear about her day when there’s so much more we could be talking about.

I nod encouragingly and take a sip of my water, my entire attention fixed on her despite the stunning view of the city around us.

This is a first date, yes, and people normally don’t talk about their day on a first date, but we’ve known each other forever and I’m simply here to enjoy her company and spoil her.

“Well. . .” Sam goes on to tell me about her relatively stress-free morning at the cafe she works at as a barista before diving into the photography lecture she had this afternoon.

Ever since I got my new job and we moved in together, I’ve managed to convince her not to work full time any more and find something she actually enjoys doing. At first, it took a while for her to figure out what she liked after being in survival mode for so long, but then she discovered her love for photography which is how she ended up enrolling in a couple of community college classes. 

She tells me about a couple of lighting techniques I’ve never heard of and goes on to explain the differences between digital and film cameras.

It’s fascinating, really, how much there is to know about photography, and I keep asking follow up questions which makes Sam’s eyes light up. 

I love listening to her talk, especially about things she’s excited about, but after twenty minutes of non-stop rambling, she asks me to tell her about my day.

“Well,” I start the same way she did while she takes a sip of water, “I went to work until four and then I went to the gym before heading home and getting ready.”

I add some details about a particularly interesting meeting I had before telling her about  a guy who tripped over some dumbbells in the gym, which makes her laugh.

Conversation flows easily after that until we finally get our food which, as expected, tastes absolutely amazing despite its insane price. We share some bites here and there, letting the other try each dish before our table gets cleared and our server hands us some dessert menus.

We’re both more than full, but after some back and forth we decide to order some chocolate souffle to share because neither of us can resist its calling.

In the end, it tastes even better than expected and I tell the server to give our compliments to the chef when he comes back to pick up the empty plate. 

After that, Sam excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and I’m quick to pay the check before she gets back.

“Ready to go?” I ask when she returns to the table which makes her smile and nod.

“Yes, let’s go home.”

I grab my jacket off the back of her chair and help her put it on again before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the restaurant.

Back on the street, the valet has already pulled my car around, so I tip him generously and help Sam into the car before getting in myself and driving off.

“Thank you for tonight,” Sam says after a moment of silence. “I had a lot of fun, and the food was terrific.”

I can’t look at her because I have to focus on the road, but I do smile and dip my chin to acknowledge that I heard her, adding, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

Letting out a sigh of contentment, Sam places a hand on my thigh and lets silence wash over us while I continue driving us home.

It’s peaceful, and I feel all warm inside, knowing that she enjoyed the night as much as I have, but then her hand on my thigh starts moving upwards which makes my heart skip a beat. 

For a moment I think it might have been unintentional, but then she moves it even higher, and when I risk a glance at her I find her already looking at me with dark eyes.

“Sam. . .” I swallow thickly and shift in my seat, almost letting out a gasp when she starts tracing circles on the inside of my thigh with her thumb.

“Yes?” she asks, feigning innocence.

“D–Don’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says calmly and I grit my teeth when her hand moves up even further.

Since getting together we’ve had our fair share of kisses and make out sessions, but we never went further than that. In the beginning it was because of my back and then because we never really had any time for it with me figuring out my new job and Sam readjusting to her new life and finally doing something she likes. Tara being over constantly doesn’t help either, but tonight nothing is holding us back and Sam seems to know that.

I pull into the underground parking garage of our building in record time a couple of minutes later before turning off the car and leaning over the center console to capture Sam’s lips in a searing kiss.

She immediately reciprocates it and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss.

She tastes like the souffle we shared and I can’t help but shiver at the sound of a soft moan slipping past her lips when I trap her lower lip between my teeth.

The position we’re in isn’t comfortable by any means, but we don’t pull apart until we’re both panting, desperate for air.

“Shit,” Sam curses under her breath and when she looks at me I see nothing but desire in her half-lidded eyes.

“Should we take this upstairs?” I ask which makes Sam nod adamantly.

I jump out of the car and hurry to the other side of it to open Sam’s door and help her out.

“Thank you,” she says, still breathless, and before I know it her lips are on mine again as we stumble toward the elevator.

It’s hot and messy, but I can’t get enough of her and when we finally make it to our apartment we waste no time kicking off our shoes and making our way to the bedroom. 

As soon as the door slams shut behind us, Sam pushes me against it, her hands in my hair at the back of my neck to pull me infinitely closer.

My hands are around her waist, grasping at the fabric of her dress while our lips move against each other in a passionate kiss.

Sooner rather than later, much to my dismay, we’re both forced to break apart once again to catch our breath. 

Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it though because her lips find their way to my neck while her hands move down my body until they settle on my hips where her fingers play with the buckle of my belt.

It’s clear what she wants, but I don’t want to go on until she actually says it, so, reluctantly, I pull back so she’s forced to look up at me.

“Wha– Are you okay?” she pants, her lust filled eyes momentarily clouded with concern.

I chuckle breathlessly and tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from stepping out of our embrace.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, pecking her lips. “But I need to know you’re okay with where this is heading.”

“I’m okay, I want this,” she whispers. She tugs on my belt and stands on her tiptoes to whisper the next part into my ear. “So would you please take my dress off and fuck me already?”

A strangled sound slips past my lips and I pull my head back so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash because of it. “You– You want me to. . . What?”

Sam smiles mischievously and bites her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “You heard me,” she mumbles, “Fuck me.”

Goddamn.

I swallow harshly, hearing my heart pounding in my ears, but within the next second it’s as if a switch has been flipped in me.

I bend down and lift her up by the back of her legs, making her squeal in surprise before my lips are back on hers.

The position we’re in makes her dress ride up, but she doesn’t seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts grinding against my stomach.

“Fuck,’” I gasp when she bites my bottom lip and carry her to bed, making her laugh briefly when I unceremoniously dump her onto it so I can get to work on taking off my clothes while she watches.  

Once I’ve discarded all of them, I join her on the bed, making quick work of her dress while she runs her hands over my shoulders and nibbles on my earlobe. 

“I love you,” I whisper a couple of minutes later when she arches her back and moans against my lips.

“I. . . love you, too,” she sobs, her eyes screwed shut while her nails dig into my back and I’m quick to kiss her again to swallow her next moans and whimpers.

The next morning I wake up without Sam by my side, but when I sit up I smile at the smell of pancakes wafting into the bedroom. 

_______________________________________________

And they lived happily ever after!

Hi, everyone! I'm not back for good yet, but I just had to write this because it's been stuck in my head ever since finishing Back To You.

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who was part of creating the Back To You Playlist ❤️ I love you all and words cannot describe how honored I feel.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

* not proofread yet ‘cause I’m lazyyyyy

[fkinkindagauche]

Somebody Has to Arrange the Matches

This is a prompt fill for @steddiebingo Round One, prompt "Dustin Henderson". Full fic on AO3.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 5,398 | CW: None | Tags: Dustin Henderson parent trap, gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington speed runs his sexuality crisis, first kiss, mutual pining, friends to lovers, frottage

Summary: Dustin is adamant that Eddie Munson deserves to find love, after all he's been through. Once Dustin figures out some things about Eddie, he gets to work making it happen.

divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie was being cagey again.

It had become Dustin's personal mission now that Eddie was out of the hospital to get the man a girlfriend. As far as Dustin could tell from his probing questions to the Corroded Coffin guys, Eddie had never had a girlfriend, which was honestly shocking to Dustin. Sure, Eddie could be pretty over the top, but everyone liked him. And it wasn't like he was ugly. So he must just be too shy or something. Dustin wanted to help.

Dustin currently had him cornered in Gareth's garage, away from the rest of the group. They'd just finished a D&D session at Gareth's house, with a Corroded Coffin practice scheduled after. Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will were waiting for Steve to pick them up before the practice started. Dustin was doing his utmost to get Eddie to go out with one of Robin's band geek friends, but Eddie was resisting all of his attempts.

"Henderson, no." Eddie sounded exactly like Steve did after Dustin had asked for a ride about ten times, trying to get a no to magically change to a yes. "I'm not going to ask Veronica out."

"Why not?" Dustin asked, voice raised. "She's a huge nerd, she flirts with you, like, non-stop, and she's hot."

Eddie sighed. "I'm just not into her."

Dustin groaned, tugging his hands through his hair in frustration. "Are you into anyone? Every time I bring someone up, you shoot the option down."

"Well, I don't like your options, bud. They're not good options."

"That's objectively false!" Dustin yelled. "Most guys would kill for some of the options I've presented!" Why did Eddie have to be like this?

"How can it be objectively false?" Eddie shot back. "It's literally my opinion. The definition of subjective."

Dustin glared at him. He hated when Eddie tried to outsmart him. He hated how often it worked. Steve drove up just as Dustin was opening his mouth for a rebuttal.

"Thank the fucking Lord," Eddie muttered. "Please take this young whippersnapper off of my hands before I kill him," Eddie yelled to Steve when he got out of his car.

"Oh, great," Steve said. "Can't wait to spend the next 15 minutes with a feisty Henderson in my car."

God, they were both such turds sometimes. Dustin sighed loudly and stomped over to Steve's car. "This isn't over, Munson!" he called over his shoulder. Eddie flipped him off in response.

He grabbed the passenger seat before Mike, Lucas, or Will even made it to the car, much to their chagrin. Steve chatted with Eddie for a few moments, Eddie leaning into his space as per usual, slinging an arm over Steve's shoulder.

Dustin leaned over and honked the horn.

"Really, Dustin?" Steve yelled, hands on his hips.

"Some of us have places to be!" Dustin yelled back.

"Where do you have to be?" Lucas asked from the backseat.

Dustin shrugged. "It's the principle of the thing."

Steve spent a few more moments talking to Eddie, probably just to piss Dustin off, then came back to the car.

Dustin gave Steve 30 seconds to adjust, watching the time tick by on his watch. He'd been told off one too many times for immediately starting an interrogation, so this was his compromise with the world. As soon as his watch hit the 30 second mark, he started in.

"So why doesn't Eddie ever date anyone?" Dustin asked, talking over whatever conversation Mike and Will had been having in the back.

Steve glanced at Dustin with a confused expression on his face. "What?"

"From the intel I've gathered, Eddie's never had a girlfriend," Dustin said. "He turns down all of my suggestions for potential dates. But if anyone deserves a girlfriend, it's him. He's, like, a hero. I want to help him find his Suzie."

"Excuse me, what am I? Chopped liver?" Steve interjected. "Why aren't you trying to find me a girlfriend?"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "You've had a million girlfriends, Steve. Give some of the other poor dudes a chance."

"Yeah, Steve. You're kind of hogging the eligible young women of Hawkins," Mike piped up from the back seat.

"I haven't had a girlfriend since Nancy," Steve protested.

"But you do still get around," Dustin insisted.

"Whatever, man." Steve shook his head. "Why don't you let Eddie do his own thing? Maybe he's just picky."

Dustin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, not responding. Steve was wrong. Eddie deserved his own Suzie. And Dustin wasn't going to give up on helping him find her.

"So I saw this girl the other day at the arcade," Dustin started. He and Eddie were at the trailer, painting some miniatures. It was his mom's night working late, and Dustin had started spending it with either Eddie or Steve on alternating weeks.

Eddie groaned. "Not again, Henderson. Can't we go, like, one day without this shit?"

"But Eddie! I think you'd really like her. She had a mohawk. Dyed pink. And her nose was pierced."

Eddie dropped his head into his hands, smearing some red paint on his cheek. He stayed that way for a few moments, quieter for much longer than usual. Dustin worried for a moment that he might have broken him. When Eddie finally looked up, his face was serious in a way it almost never was. He reached out for Dustin's hand.

"Dustin. I'm about to tell you something, and you cannot freak out about it. And you can't tell anyone else about it, either. Am I clear?" Usually, Dustin would have thought a joke was coming after an intro like that from Eddie. But he seemed completely earnest this time, so Dustin actually considered what he'd asked.

"What about Suzie?" Dustin asked. "Can I tell Suzie?"

Eddie sighed. "Yeah, you can tell Suzie."

"Alright," Dustin said. "I agree to your terms. No freak out, no telling anyone other than Suzie."

Eddie nodded. "Okay." He took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm gay, Dustin."

It took Dustin a second for his brain to parse what he'd just heard. Eddie. Heavy metal band member, dungeon master Eddie.

"I'm sorry, you're what?" Dustin squeaked. He must have misheard.

"I'm gay," Eddie repeated. "Queer, fruity, a homo, a friend of Dorothy, a fairy. I like men. That's why none of your options have sounded remotely appealing to me. That's why I've never had a girlfriend."

Dustin sat back in his chair, stunned. A lot of things were making sense now.

"Oooookay," Dustin said, nodding. So now he had to find Eddie a boyfriend. More difficult, but he liked a challenge. "So what's your type? We can find you a boyfriend."

Eddie barked out a laugh, throwing his head back. He looked relieved. "Are you serious? That's your only question, what's my type?"

"Of course that's not my only question, who do you think I am?" Dustin was a little offended. "That's just my most pressing question."

"I think this is the best response I've gotten so far to coming out," Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

Dustin felt pretty good about that. "Well? Are you gonna answer?"

Eddie chuckled. "I should've known this wouldn't make you give up your weird crusade." He pulled a few strands of hair in front of his mouth, chewing on the ends while he thought. "My type? I'm not totally sure, honestly, haven't had much of a chance to find out, living in Hawkins. I guess probably my height or maybe shorter, but not much taller. On the masculine side of things, almost the jock physique. Hairy. Brunette."

Dustin nodded after each characteristic, mentally taking note. "Those are all physical things. What about personality?"

Eddie had to think a little harder about that one, looking into the distance. "Um. Kinda goofy, I guess? Not too macho. Sense of humor." Eddie trailed off and looked at Dustin sharply. "Henderson, if you go around asking the men of Hawkins if they're queer so you can try to find a date for me, you're gonna get beat to shit."

Dustin held up his hands. "You really think I'm that stupid? Give me some credit here, Eddie."

"You have a track record of failing to read the room, man," Eddie pointed out.

That absolutely wasn't true. Dustin was very tactful. He could be quite subtle when he wanted to be. Eddie just never got to see that side of him.

"I'll be careful," Dustin insisted. "I'm not gonna ask anyone if they're gay."

"Alright," Eddie said, but he didn't look convinced. Dustin would show him.

The idea hit Dustin the next week, when he was spending his mom's late work night with Steve. They were out by the pool, and Steve's hairy chest was on full display, with all of its muscles. Dustin had Suzie, and she didn't want him to be muscular, but sometimes when he saw Steve's chest he couldn't deny the twinge of jealously.

Hairy. Muscular jock physique. Something was tickling at the back of Dustin's mind. Brunette. What was that? About as tall as Eddie.

Oh shit. Dustin dropped his Dr. Pepper as Steve yelled "COWABUNGA" and did a cannonball into the water. Kinda goofy.

It was Steve. Eddie had basically been describing Steve. Did Eddie even know? Had he been secretly pining after Steve this whole time? Or was it still subconscious?

Holy shit. But Steve liked girls. How was Dustin gonna make this work? Did he need to find a Steve doppelganger somewhere who was gay?

Steve popped out of the water, shaking his hair. He looked up at Dustin and the Dr. Pepper spilled all over the patio. "Everything alright there?" Steve asked. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Dustin nodded. "I- I'm good. Everything's fine!"

Steve shrugged and dove back under the water.

Dustin did some research over the next few days. If he was going to find a gay Steve doppelganger for Eddie, he needed to understand the culture - where he could find other queer people, the types of phrases they used to identify each other without being too blatant, that kind of stuff.

He tried finding books at the library, but came up empty-handed and probably on some sort of list the librarian kept of degenerates. So he had to resort to asking Eddie where he got all his information.

"Why do you wanna know?" Eddie asked with a suspicious glare.

"I just wanna understand you, man!" Dustin insisted, putting on his most innocent expression. "You're my friend, I wanna know what's going on with you."

Eddie reluctantly handed Dustin some zines he'd picked up in Indianapolis. "None of the raunchy stuff," Eddie said. "I'm not getting arrested for dealing gay pornography to minors."

Dustin made a disgusted face. "You could have just… not told me you even had raunchy stuff."

Eddie shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"

Dustin spent hours that night poring over the zines, learning the lingo. He discovered an incredibly interesting fact in one of the zines - the existence of bisexuality. You could like both men and women. You didn't have to be either gay or straight.

This fact blew Dustin's mind, and the seeds of a different plan took root. What if Steve was bisexual, and he didn't even know it? That would be the easiest, most logical solution to the Eddie problem. Steve was Eddie's type; so what if Eddie was also Steve's type?

He talked about it with Suzie the following evening. She'd been shocked to learn that Eddie was gay. Mormons weren't exactly accepting of homosexuality. But she'd always played a little fast and loose with certain aspects of Mormonism, so Dustin was able to bring her around to the idea eventually.

"I don't know, Dusty Buns," she said as they were discussing his idea about Steve. "I don't think you can just make someone be bisexual."

"I'm not gonna make him be bisexual," Dustin insisted. "I'm just gonna try to show him that he already is."

"But what if he isn't?" she shot back.

"Then I'll go back to the doppelganger plan," he said with a sigh. "But I have to try. This is the simplest solution. Occam's razor."

"Dusty Buns, you know you're not using that correctly right now," Suzie scolded.

Dustin sighed. She never let him get away with anything.

Dustin paid a lot more attention to Steve and Eddie's interactions over the next few weeks. Now that he knew Eddie was gay, he couldn't believe he'd missed the signs pointing to his crush on Steve.

Eddie gravitated to Steve like a moth to a flame. It was like he had some sort of Steve-related sixth sense, his head immediately turning toward Steve whenever the man walked into a room.

He was a tactile guy with everyone, but whenever Steve was around, it was always Steve that Eddie was touching. Every time Dustin looked at the two of them, Eddie had a hand somewhere on Steve - slung around his shoulders, resting on one of his arms, brushing against one of his legs to get his attention.

Steve didn't seem to mind at all. He leaned into the physical contact, touching Eddie back almost as often as he was touched. They smiled at each other all the time. They got each other drinks and snacks and just in general acted like a goddamn couple. How had Dustin missed this?

He was gonna need to accelerate his timeline. These idiots needed to get together ASAP.

Read the rest of the fic on AO3.

[snaxle]

I WILL BE OPENING EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS WITHIN THE WEEK

i know majority of the people following me do not follow me for art purposes and so im probably speaking to a brick wall, but if anyone has seen my posts regarding my financial problems and my tablet breaking the other day, i need money.

tldr, the state just took away nearly $1000 worth of income my family makes per month, which is the money we used to pay our rent. more in depth information below the cut

the state just kicked my brother off of SSI, and now we are out of $900 a month (another brother was ALSO kicked off of SSI a few months earlier as well, and as such for the past year my family has been struggling. at the time this wasnt bad enough prior that i felt the need to talk about it, so i never mentioned it). this $900 helped pay for the rent on our house, and without it we are going to be absolutely screwed. not only that, my brothers are all getting kicked off their insurance within the next two months and will probably not be able to get their medication anymore nor go to their monthly doctors appointments anymore because my mom will not be able to afford it (the reason for their medication is not super serious whatsoever, but will affect them badly in the long run if they arent able to take it.) my mom is going to be trying to find a job asap, but she is also disabled and for months now she has been putting in job application after application with no luck whatsoever.

we get no food stamps because the state sees that i live at home and assume that i make enough to afford food for everyone in my house, and the local food pantry quite frankly sucks and often gives out of date food with bugs in it, so we only go for emergencies.

I NEED TO BE ABLE TO SAVE MONEY IN ORDER TO GET MY DRIVERS LICENSE AND GET A CAR. this is a priority. i cannot get anywhere where i live without a vehicle, and my mom has to drive me around. once i get a car, i will be trying to get a second job so i can drive myself, and will then be working on trying to move out in hopes that if i leave my mom is able to get her income back. i CANNOT move out right now, due to the fact that i dont make enough money to afford my own place and i also walk to work everyday. these will not be happening anytime soon unfortunately, but most of the money i save per month was going towards being able to afford a car and a cheap apartment in the near future.

if you saw my post the other day regarding my tablet breaking and me wanting to purchase another one, i will not be buying a new one unless absolutely necessary. my current tablet works enough duct taped up for now. if i make any money from commissions, i will be putting it towards at the very least affording to pay for all my animals necessities, so i can focus on using all the money i make for my family. if you are aware of my ongoing medical problems, i will not be seeking out medical attention for my heart problem for the time being, considering the fact that i do not have insurance and i think any money i would pay for appointments would be better spent elsewhere. i would rather my family can keep a roof over their heads.

i will share the prices i think will be good in a bit, and i am really sorry if theyre expensive. if you read all this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i will get them set up as soon as i can.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Tw: Dubcon, coercion, orgasm denial, general guys being icky and manipulative.

(Its kinda ass idk)

Thinking about...

A couple of guys, not really delinquents bit certainly not 'upstanding' citizens just using you for some relief. It's probably after some event, maybe a rock show at some shithole downtown, or maybe you were just getting some snacks with guys you thought were your friends. Not thought, they are your friends, but you couldn't have imagined this.

The first fidgets with the lever of the backseats, trying to get them folded back into the trunk while number twos tugging at your skirt, your tits pressed harshly into the leather of his car. "Cmon, find the fucking lever!" He growls and number one, who raises his hands in defense. "What do you want me to do, its probably your fucking car that let this happen. This shit-bucket probably doesn't even have a lever for the seats anymore."

Number three is driving, slowly finding some small lot with minimal lights in the back of some old building, shifting into park. While the two in back continue to bicker, he makes his way to the front of you. "Are you two sure about this? Seems like going to far." He says, one hand gripping at his pants sleeve with tension.

"You're bricked up too, bro. You aren't exactly the virgin Mary here." Number two pauses, then chuckles. "But, maybe virgin does fit." One cackles too, prompting three to smack the shoulder of two. "You're not scared, are you? You want this plenty, right?" Two asks, squishing your cheeks together in a 'fishy' face with a free hand.

"Don't know." You're scared, tired from the the fun night, unsure why three guys you've always been platonic with are doing this, but you can't deny the aching in your gut, the way your thighs are rubbing a bit against the leather seams of the middle seat and the far right seat. "I'm not sure, you guys-" You yelp, a hard open-palm grazing across the sliver of exposed ass poking from under your slightly ridden up skirt.

"Fuck is wrong with you?" Three asks, suddenly the seat jolts down, making you gasp. "Easy, easy."

"Get that skirt off, I just know she's got a good ass." One's hands push up, grabbing a cheek each amd kneading them as he groans. "Fucking mint, look at this, baby!" One leans so he's over you a bit, hard clothed cock pressing against your ass as he whispers in your ear. "Why'd you hide this thing from us?" He asks.

"I wasn't hiding it-"

"Obviously." Two snarks. "We barely even had to lift this skirt up, you were practically flaunting it."

God, you're aching. Maybe it's half stress, half arousal making you run on adrenaline, but the lack of care they seem to have for how you feel about this is having a primal effect on you.

"Pussy's fat too..." One comments, yanking down the thin panties keeping your soaked lips from him.

"Careful!" You squeak, causing them all to actually pause for a moment. "Its... been a bit."

Two breaks out into a grin, realizing this should mean dwindling protests from you about the way they plan to use you.

"She's not saying yes." Three protests, hand coming to hover over your cunt, effectively blocking his eager friends wandering fingers.

"She said maybe, and look at her!" One tries to get his hands past threes hand. "She's dripping on his leather seats, she's wetter than a bitch in heat.

"Its not like we're holding her down in some alley or something!" Two adds, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. "This is loving compared to that. Vanilla stuff." He snips.

Three seems conflicted, eyes downcast as he reluctantly pulls a hand away, moving it to gently rub your back up and down, as if trying to soothe a cat.

"Finally. Glad you decided to knock off the cockblocking." Spreading the lips of your labia, one whistles lowly, dragging a digital from your hole to aroused bud from behind, gently circling once, then twice.

"Shit-" You whisper out, gripping the seat edges with slick hands. You can feel threes hand clench slightly, but you lay your cheek on his knee, casting a flushed and low-lidded glance up at him. This reassures him a little, but your head near his oh-so sensitive inner thigh makes this action also go right to his dick.

"Fingers, how many you want?" One whispers. You just mewl at the feeling of friction on your clit, whining when it suddenly stops. "Wait, wait, okay, two, two!" You exclaim. You jolt forward a bit at the slight intrusion, the digits working you towards a finish, but not at the pace you'd like.

"You're sucking him in like crazy, shit." Two chuckles, leaning to glance behind you. "Makes me wonder what kinda suction you'd have elsewhere." He fidgets with his belt, the sound of a zipper and belt clasp coming undone sounds out, and a snap of boxers being pulled slightly lower. Three looks disgusted as two just winks, taking his own cock in his hand and running his hand over it once, then twice before pressing it forward.

Your lips wet with the slightly sticky red tip he presses to them, prodding once or twice like he's seeking entrance. "You wanna out in? Just give it a taste, I promise I'm not gonna make you take it all the way, baby." Two chuckles as you awkwardly kiss the tip. "That's nice, but I'm not asking you to give it's first kiss." Gripping your hair, he guides it in a bit, groaning. "Yeah, there we go. Right around my cock, use your tongue." You let out a moan as one hits a spot with the tips of his fingers, curled inside. It reverberates around Two's cock, causing him to buck. He keeps his promise, you have to admit, he only bucks forward a bit before pulling his length back out. "You're taking it so fucking good, not gonna bruise your mouth though, she's taking it like a fucking champ, man." He glances at One. "You think she's close?"

"Her pussy's twitching like she's gonna pop any second." The bragging first member slows his pace, causing you to whine and pull your mouth off Two's cock. "Why'd you stop, wait- wait-" You're panting, on the verge of overstimulation and seeking that release rather than focus on all your conflicting feelings.

"Shh, calm down. You'll get your pussy rocked, calm down." Two elbows Three, nodding his head towards the man. He's been stoic since you out your head on his leg, conflicted and sickened, while simultaneously being sickening aroused. "Last chance to jump this, man. I know you want to.." Three just pushes him back, but moves to have you sit up, now facing him. His hands on your cheek. "Breathe. S' okay, you want to stop, or you want to finish this?" He asks.

"Finish it, baby. We'll stroke it over yo-" Three smacks off one, scolding him before turning back to you. "Your choice. Your decision. Don't listen to them." Three reassures you, arms on blocking you in and leaning over you slightly to keep the other two from interfering.

"Finish. I wanna cum, m' aching and-" You buck forward just a bit, and he gets the memo. "Okay, okay. Lay on your back, spread your legs, I'm gonna do the work."

You don't have to be asked twice; laying on the cool leather, this time back down, chest rising. Two hands get your feet tucked around Threes waist, and he lowers down on you. You're so hyper focused on how sensitive you are, and your 'friend'leaning over you you can barely register one and two jerking off, hoping to climax around the time you do.

Three gets himself lined up, but not before placing a few soft kisses on your neck. "I got you. Just forget about those idiots, okay? You and me, I'm taking care of you. I'll let you finish and make em' take you right back home."

You just nod, eyes squeezing tight as he enters. "Ah-" You groan. "You're big, fuck-"

He's not moving. "Too big?"

You shake your head, and he resumes several slow repitions. Eventually, he's fully sheathed, balls smacking against your ass as he thrusts. "Amazing, you feel so good, so good." He grunts. His hands brace on either side of you, but don't grip you harshly like one and two. "Is it good for you?" He asks.

"Up..." is all you can mumble. He gets the hint, angling his cock slightly. Soon, his bulbous tip is hammering that spongy place deep inside you, and you can feel your release finally hitting. "Yes, cumming, I'm finishing-" You start to yell, then gasp at a hot rush of fluids that's aren't your own.

"Holy shit!" Two cackles along with one, as three halts in his movements. "Mister 'i don't wanna, it's not right' might've just knocked you up!"

Your still riding out your orgasm, but three has immediately snapped out of ir. "I didn't mean to, sorry, I didn't-" he's pulling out, immediately smacking two who finished a bit ago. "Its your car, drive. Fucking drive, go to the pharmacy." Two puts his hands up, but obeys.

"M' so sorry." Three says as he sits you up. "I promise I'm clean and stuff, and we're gonna grab plan b, get you some water too-"

"Its okay." You blurt. "Its okay, I know you didn't mean to." Biting your lip, you think about what happened. Of any other guys did this, it'd be horrifying, and you admit it was scary. But... it also wouldn't feel nearly as hot with anyone else. "It was good."

"Hell yeah it was." Both of you were so caught up, you didn't realize One stayed in the back of the car. "Wait till you get a ride on me, baby. I promise I'll be even more of a gentleman. Shit, I'll tell you before it shoot my load in you."

You should go out for late night drives more.

[33max]

if you have the energy can you write about maxy going back to the factory and playing with all his engineer and mechanic friends?? i think he would be wild on the plane ride over with daddy, he's so excited!!! happy flappies running through the factory looking for his friends 🥰

I accidently wrote 3250 words and I'm not even sure it is what you asked for… and it is so far from perfect and not really edited 🤭 but I hope you like it anyway!

“Ready, Max?” Daniel says as he hauls both his and Max’s bags from the bedroom and into the living room.

Max is sitting on the sofa playing a game on his iPad, he’s been obsessed with it recently and can sit for nearly an hour making burgers for the tiny little customers on the screen. It’s a great distraction for when Daniel really needs to get some things done, like today, when he had to pack their bags to spend a week at the factory in Milton Keynes.

“Yesh,” Max says around his binkie, he’s feeling extra small today and hasn’t taken the binkie out for anything other than the snack that Daniel gave him earlier.

Max serves one last customer before handing the iPad to Daniel to pack in Max’s backpack. It has all of the things Max might need on the plane to make the journey a little smoother, like his noise-cancelling headphones and his fidget squishy.

“Let’s go then!” Daniel says, holding his hand out for Max to take. It does mean he has to carry two backpacks on his back and two suitcases in his right hand. Better that than Max trip down the stairs. He’s not as dexterous when he’s like this.

Max has Mr Roar’s paw in one hand and Daniel’s hand in the other, and as they walk carefully down the stairs Max chatters away about seeing a big pirate ship from the balcony that morning, apparently it had a monkey on the flag and a huge crate of bananas spilling out over the deck.

The parking garage is in the basement of their building, and it’s usually very quiet as it is only for residents of their building, but as they open the door to the garage somebody revs the engine of their stupidly loud sports car making Max whine and bury his face into Daniel’s shoulder. His hands come up to cover his ears and he starts sucking on his binkie at a much faster pace than before.

“It’s okay, Maxy,” Daniel says, putting their bags on the floor to properly comfort Max. His boy doesn’t like loud noises and needs Daniel’s hands covering his ears as well as his own. “They’re leaving now, look, there they go. Say bye to the loud McLaren!”

“Bye,” Max says as the car drives out of the parking garage. His face is in a little pout and he is not happy. “Naughty car.”

Daniel tries not to laugh. Big Max would be appreciative of that noise, he would probably moan directly in Daniel’s ear about the sound of the engine, but not Little Max. Little Max’s ears are more sensitive.

The car is parked close by. Daniel has decided to take the Audi. It’s bigger, comfier for Max, and more inconspicuous with the fully tinted windows.

They got the windows blacked out a few months ago because Daniel could not stand the idea of the paparazzi getting their hands on photos of Max like this. It made him feel sick to the stomach. His anxiety even reached a point where he did not want to take Max out when he was little, he didn’t want Max’s sweet face all over social media for the world to see.

It was actually GP who had suggested they do this, and it has made a world of difference. Daniel doesn’t worry about taking Max out in the car anymore.

“Can you get in while Daddy puts the bags in the boot, Bud?” Daniel asks, trying to get Max to help him out a bit, but Max shakes his head and stays attached to Daniel’s side while he loads their gear.

Max is not feeling very independent today. It’s fine, they sometimes have days like this when Max won’t want to leave Daniel’s side. Daniel suspects that will change once he realises where they are going, anyway. Max knows they are going to the factory for the first time this year, but he hasn’t quite realised what that means yet.

He hasn’t realised who else will be at the factory with them and Daniel can’t wait to see Max’s reaction. His boy has really missed the team over the winter break, perhaps even more than he did last year.

There have been a few times this winter when Max has woken up from a nap and waddled over to Daniel in tears because he misses his friends. Especially Uncle Jeep.

“Let’s get you strapped in, Baby,” Daniel says, opening the passenger door to the RS6 and encouraging Max to climb in. Max does, but he climbs in knees first and then has to awkwardly twist until he’s sat properly on the seat.

“Good boy,” Daniel praises, grabbing the straps of the seatbelt to buckle Max in. They have a six-point harness-style seatbelt in the passenger seat for Max.

It’s perhaps overkill, Daniel knows. But there was one time before they had the harness fitted that Maxy had very inconspicuously taken the normal seatbelt off of his shoulder without Daniel realising. The moment Daniel had to brake at a red light Max’s head had almost bonked the dashboard. Daniel had yelled out of fright. Max had cried because of the yelling. It was a whole thing, and so within a week, Daniel had the harness fitted.

“All done,” Daniel says, kissing Max’s soft tummy where the buckle sits.

“Thank you,” Max says politely. It sounds like tank yoo around his binkie and Daniel can’t help but smile at how adorable that is.

The drive to the airport is fairly uneventful. It’s only half an hour but the car lulls Max to sleep before they are even out of Monaco and Daniel ends up listening to an audiobook of Roald Dhal’s The BFG all by himself.

“Baby,” Daniel whispers when they arrive, stroking Max’s cheek to try and wake him up.

Max whines. Turning his head away. His cheeks are flushed with sleep and he’s clearly not wanting to wake up.

“Baby,” Daniel tries again, stroking a hand through Max’s hair this time. “It’s time to get on the plane.”

Max doesn’t even whine this time, he’s fast asleep.

Daniel subscribes to the idea that if a little does not wake up naturally with careful rousing, then they must need the sleep, and there is absolutely no way Daniel is going to pull Max out of a deep sleep just to get him onto the plane.

The perk of owning a private jet is that they can often drive straight up to the hangar where the plane is, with no reason to even enter the airport. So, Daniel can carry his boy all of twenty metres.

He climbs out of the car and signals one of the crew to grab their bags. The jet has three regular crew members, a pilot, a copilot, and a steward.

“Sorry to ask you to do that,” Daniel says to one of the crew members, his name is Adam and he is the copilot, Maxy loves Adam because he keeps the fridge stocked full of strawberry Frubes.

Adam waves him off as he grabs the bags from the boot. “It’s fine. Is the little man sleeping?”

“I’m pretty sure a hurricane could hit and he wouldn’t wake up..”

“We’re expecting some minor turbulence just after take off,” Adam tells him. “Sorry, Danny, but you’re going to need to get him into one of the seats. We need everyone buckled in today.”

Shit. Daniel was hoping to transfer Max directly onto the bed. Max has an entire room at the back of the plane for his little self, filled with plushies and toys and slightly more soundproofed than the rest of the plane. It is where they usually go when Max is small.

“Damn,” Daniel says as he unbuckles Max and lifts him out of the car, making sure that Mr Roar is tucked between them. He rests Max’s head on his shoulder and then encourages Max to wrap his legs around Daniel’s waist. It comes second nature to them both after all these years. They’ve done this more times than they could count.

Max stirs a little as Daniel climbs the stairs to the jet, but doesn’t wake up, even when Daniel gently places him in one of the chairs. Daniel reclines the chair and grabs some blankets, trying his best to make it as comfortable as Max’s bed would be. Luckily, Max still doesn’t wake up.

“Morning,” Suzanna whispers as she makes her way through the plane. She’s their steward and she absolutely dotes on Max. “Can I get you anything? Do you want me to make a bottle for when he wakes up?”

“That would be great actually, yeah.”

“I’ll make it now so you have it ready for take off. Did Adam let you know we are expecting some turbulence?”

“He did. Hopefully, Max will sleep through it, you know how he gets when it gets a bit bumpy.”

Max is terrified of turbulence when he’s small. He sobs and screams as the plane bounces around. Daniel suspects that this is something Big Max is afraid of too but just will not admit.

It’s not long before Suzanna brings Daniel a bottle for Max, and then they’re taxi-ing down the runway.

Daniel keeps an eye on Max during take-off, looking out for any signs that Max might wake up, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even wake up when the plane starts to bounce around in the turbulence that Adam and Suzanna warned them about, which Daniel is very grateful for.

In fact, Max sleeps through most of the flight, only waking up when there are around twenty minutes until they land at the private airfield outside of Milton Keynes.

“Hello,” Daniel says gently, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of his seat to knee in front of Max’s. “Did you have a nice sleep, baby?”

Max nods, finding Mr Roar in his lap and cuddling him tight. His cheeks are so pink and his hair is sticking up at all angles. It’s adorable.

“Do you want a bottle?” Daniel asks, grabbing the one that Suzanna made from the warmer.

Max nods again, yawning so wide that his binkie falls into his lap.

“Here you go,” Daniel takes the lid off of the bottle and hands it to Max. Sometimes when he’s sleepy Max will insist that Daniel holds the bottle, but today he takes it himself, holding it up to his own mouth to drink.

“Good boy,” Daniel tells him, stroking a hand through Max’s hair. “You’ve been such a good boy, Maxy.”

Max smiles around the nipple of his bottle. He loves being called a good boy.

“Yes, yes you are,” Daniel says, reaching a hand out to tickle Max’s tummy.

The final descent into Cranfield is uneventful. Max finishes his bottle and Daniel texts GP to let him know they’ve nearly arrived.

Daniel cannot wait to see Max’s face when he realises who is coming to pick them up from the airport.

“Have a good day, Maxy!” Susanna says as she waves them off of the plane. “See you soon!”

“Bye-bye, Suzieanna,” Max says, giving her a quick snuggle before following Daniel down the stairs and off of the plane.

“Careful, Max,” Daniel says, as he tries to guide Max down the steps. “Gentle feet and safe body, remember?”

Max nods, carefully watching where he steps. Putting one foot in front of the other and making sure he doesn’t slip on the wet metal stairs. He’s too busy watching his feet to notice who is standing about twenty metres away, leaning up against the side of a black BMW SUV.

Daniel flashes GP a smile. Any second now…

Only when Max’s feet are firmly back on solid ground does he look up and spot Gianpiero. Then the next thing they know Max has let go of Daniel’s hand and is running full pelt towards the man, Mr Roar swinging in the wind as they run.

“Jeep! Jeep!” Max shouts excitedly.

“Hello,” GP says, holding his arms out for Max to leap into before hoisting the little onto his hip. He holds Max close, spinning him around, and kissing the top of his head. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Jeepy! Every day! I missed you big!”

“You missed me big?” GP laughs, “How big?”

As Daniel is walking towards the pair he sees Max start to wriggle on GP’s hip and yell, “Oh no! Jeepy put down, put down!”

GP puts the boy down immediately. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Daddy! Help!” Max says, panicked, looking back towards Daniel. Max has dropped Mr Roar to the ground and is pulling at the front of his sweatpants frantically. “Excited wee!”

Oh shit. Max is dropped younger than usual and Daniel let him sleep for a few hours, gave him a bottle, and then let him sprint full pelt at GP in excitement. Of course, he’s nearing an accident.

Daniel starts to run towards them, but before he makes it even a few metres, GP has stepped in for him.

The older man quickly turns Max to face the car, stands behind him, and shimmies his sweatpants down – enough for Max to let go up against the rear tyre of his car.

“There you go,” GP says, “Nothing to worry about.”

GP quickly picks up Mr Roar and cradles him under one arm before Max realises his plushie fell.

This is why Daniel trusts GP with Max, he springs into action when Max needs it. He doesn’t automatically look to Daniel to sort Max out when there is no time. He trusts his instincts and acts, Daniel wonders if it’s something to do with how well he knows Max from all the years of being his race engineer, or if it is just a GP thing. Always ready to prevent the next disaster.

“Sorry, Jeepy.” Max sniffles as he pees.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” GP tells Max firmly as Daniel finally reaches the pair. There is no room for disagreement in GP’s voice, he will defend Max even when Max is being hard on himself.

“Is that better, Max?” Daniel asks, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Daddy’s so sorry that he didn’t check if you needed the bathroom before we got off the plane.”

“Yeah,” Max says as he finishes, looking up at Daniel sheepishly. “Feels better now.”

Daniel inspects the damage, only a tiny leak on Max’s underwear, GP had stepped in just in time. The underwear will dry and Daniel can get Max changed as soon as they reach the factory, so he pulls both Max’s underwear and sweatpants back up.

“Let’s get you in the car,” Daniel says, opening the back door and helping Max climb into the back seat. There’s a six-point harness belt in the backseat. GP had it installed over the summer break when he took Max on a couple of days out while Daniel was in the US for work.

Daniel is once again thankful for the race engineer’s presence in Max’s life and how much he cares. Not just when he’s big, but when Max is like this too.

Daniel kisses Max on the tummy, where the harness is buckled, and then he closes the door. Leaning up against it for a couple of seconds before turning around to face GP.

“Thanks for that,” He tells GP, as they shake hands in greeting. “He’s dropped pretty small today, I probably should have seen that one coming to be honest…”

GP waves his hand in the air, brushing it off. “It happens.”

“Jeepy is driving us to the park!” Max announces as they climb into the car, he’s flapping his hands excitedly. A sure sign that he’s happy. It makes Daniel chuckle, Max has a habit of saying things that he wants to do, rather than what they are actually doing.

“Jeepy is driving us to the factory, Max,” Daniel corrects, looking in the rearview mirror at the boy.

“Yeah. And the park.” Max nods, “Jeepy always takes me to the park, Daddy.”

“We like the park, don’t we, Max?” GP says and Max hmm’s in agreement. “Maybe tomorrow we can go.”

Max is looking around the back seat, patting himself down, and Daniel knows what he’s looking for. Mr Roar and a binkie.

But he’s not the only one who notices what Max needs.

“Here,” GP hands the boy his plushie, at the exact same time that Daniel says “Here,” and hands Max his binkie.

“Tanks,” Max giggles, taking both items.

It is not lost on Daniel how in tune with Max’s needs GP is.

When they arrive at the factory, the first thing that Daniel does is usher Max into the bathroom to change his clothes. He wrestles the excited little into some soft navy blue sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, his usual factory attire.

And then it’s chaos.

As soon as Max is dressed he is darting for the bathroom door to make an escape into the factory.

“Maxy, safe body!” Daniel shouts after him, trying to remind the little to slow down a little.

It’s no use. Max is running straight at Calum, who must have been going out for a cigarette, arms flapping in excitement as he squeals in happiness at the mechanic.

“Look who it is!” Calum laughs, catching Max before throwing him a foot into the air and catching him again. It never ceases to amaze Daniel how strong the mechanics are, lifting Max up like he weighs nothing.

“Missed you, Cal!” Max tells him through giggles, “Throw me again! Throw me again!”

Calum does. Again. And again. Until Max is out of breath from giggling so hard and Calum places him back down on his feet.

“Take me!” Max demands a cheeky smile on his face.

“Max…” Daniel interjects, trying to remind Maxy that manners are important.

“Take you where?” Calum asks, confused.

“Hannah! Pedals! Jon! Paul!” Max says, taking Calum’s hand and tugging him towards the offices. “Jeep!!!”

“Jeep is parking the car, baby,” Daniel reminds him. The older man had dropped them at the entrance, the best place for an excited boy, before heading over to the parking lot.

“I can take him to see everyone,” Calum says to Daniel. “If that’s ok with you? I’ll take him to see everyone while you go and see the big man.”

Daniel does have a meeting with Christian to get to, and it is important for the team that everyone gets time with Max like this. When he’s small and innocent and so happy to see everyone.

“That would be great,” Daniel smiles. It’s easy to watch Max interacting with the guys, and Daniel knows that they are safe here. From judgment, but also from prying eyes.

As he watches Calum walk Max towards the back offices, he hears Max ask “Where’s Jonathon?” and his heart clenches a little bit. He has tried explaining to Max that Adrian and Jonathon will not be around as much this year, but that they will be there during the race weekends, and they still love him very much. But it’s hard to know how much of it Max actually understands when he is like this.

“Jonathon is coming in this afternoon just to see you, Buddy,” Calum says, voice getting quieter the further away the duo get. “He wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

[xxepherr]

i have another hasan fic idea!! (if your open to requests)

reader is a popstar and releases a surprise single (like "nasty" or "positions" by ariana grande) and he reacts to it on stream and is blushing and flustered listening to it🤭

.ೃ࿐SURPRISE SINGLE

summary — in which you drop a surprise single conveniently while hasan is streaming, and that means he has to react to it on principle.

pairings — hasan piker x popstar!reader (established relationship)

pronouns — none

word count — 1750

note — i am SO open to requests!!!!! i don't personally think he'd blush but i think he'd get flustered word-wise if that makes sense. like SUPER caught off guard by it all. not my best work but i tried </3

WOULD HASAN CONSIDER YOU a closed off person? no. you weren't necessarily secretive either, so when you kept yourself locked away in the studio hasan had put together for you, your head in the clouds for months, he knew something was up.

he wasn't sure what exactly, just that your hands were constantly covered in pen ink by dinner time, and that you hummed the same tune as a mellow afterthought. or the way you disappeared "to the studio" but you never took your notebook with you, and usually came home with your hair a different way or covered in stray glitter.

hasan paid attention, he knew you had an album you were working on that was due to be released later in the year, but you were never this quiet about it. you bounced ideas off him, you let him sit in the studio with you and brainstorm what sound you wanted until you got distracted and gave it up for the day. it was the reason why you usually went to a proper recording studio with producers more often than needed.

either way, he trusted you. he didn't want to pry as much as it would ease the constant itch in his brain. you'd lost quite a bit in simply just dating him in the first place — people didn't like the fact that you were dating a political commentator, but you moved past it fairly easily. ignorance was truly key to happiness. you were happy.

it was like any other day. you woke up, put kaya's harness on her and held the unattached leash separately ( just in case you ran into other dogs and their owners on the way ) and went out for a run on your normal circuit in the neighbourhood. when you got back, you kissed your boyfriend through the car window as he left to go meet his personal trainer at the gym. you made a simple breakfast of cereal and fruit and retreated back to what austin had started calling your cave.

it was for one last time in a while, just to prepare a few things so that you could immediately promote the single once it dropped. it was all lined up and awaited the click of a button . . . just hours from now. you felt jittery with excitement, the secret of a few months so close to being exposed to millions.

HASAN came home and did as he usually did — ate a ridiculously protein fueled meal, took a shower, prepared his things for stream, and then joined you for an episode of the show you were currently watching. in fairness, it was the first time in a while he'd joined you or the show part of that plan, something he was incredibly confused about but not exactly bothered by. it was nice, cuddled up together on the couch, sharing moments together that weren't meals or naps or brief moments you'd bring his food to him while he was locked in on whatever he was talking about on stream.

"i have to get up," hasan's chuckle was breathy, his fingers trying to pry your hands off his bicep. you clung to him with all the strength you had, a whine building in the back of your throat.

"five more minutes," you sighed. you both knew five minutes turned to ten which then turned to at least thirty. once he had been a whole two hours late because you wouldn't let go of him, all to the point where he considered just streaming with you clinging to him like a backpack. he wouldn't, of course, but it was definitely still a thought. he knew you wouldn't care anyway, your lyrics were quite . . . questionable and anyone could decipher what your relationship was like without having to physically see it.

"you wouldn't give me five minutes when you were off being secretive," he challenged lightly, eyes rolling in a playful manner. "i promise i'll take more breaks than usual to come see you," it was a common form of negotiation in situations such as these, one you couldn't argue with.

if you were interested, you'd sit in the chair off camera that murat usually sat in, or you'd sit in the armchair he put in the room just for you to read a book while he chatted politics. you wouldn't be doing that today, not even popping in for a quick hello to ask him something like you normally did. not today.

you let go of his arm, doing so in a way that made it look like he'd finally pried your hands away, and pressed your lips against his cheek. "fine . . ." you drawled in mock disappointment. "go do your job or whatever."

he laughed, standing up from the plush couch and disappearing around the corner. you tapped on your phone, the wallpaper of you and hasan posing with his mum in front of a gingerbread house from christmas last year greeting you with the time. you had a few hours to kill before the single's release, and so in the meantime you could tidy up a few things before his parents arrived later tonight.

HASAN, DESPITE POPULAR BELIEF, didn't actually get annoyed as easily as perceived. things had to pile up and really push every single one of his buttons to create an outburst, and one thing that certainly did that was some dumbass spamming the same thing over and over.

"dude, i can't fucking stand dumbasses like this," he sputtered out his usual rant, one that at least half of his chat could probably recite word for word. "shut the fu—" he cut himself off when he opened the link in a separate tab, a snippet of a sound he hadn't heard before paired with what he knew was footage of the richard nixon presidential library. the part that caught him off guard was that your youtube channel's name was displayed at the bottom as he paused it.

oh. it all made so much sense now. all the hours spent holed up in your studio . . . all the hidden secrets and the sudden shutting of your notebook whenever you were close enough . . . oh.

"okay," hasan cleared his throat, dragging it over to the main screen. he didn't make a big spectacle on unbanning the person who spammed the link because how could he be mad? and set the music video back to the beginning. he couldn't not watch it, not when he'd reacted to all your other songs and music videos on stream. "quick break so we can watch this."

heaven sent you to me, i'm just hopin' i don't repeat history.

already, he was justifying it in his head as if he really had to. the title, positions, had him a little nervous as if you hadn't written suggestive songs about your relationship before. it was a little more obvious in the target demographic ( himself, mainly ) when you, in the music video, were clearly meant to be depicted as the president of the united states.

boy, i'm tryna meet your mama on a sunday. then make a lotta love on a monday.

okay, it shouldn't have been a huge deal. it wasn't. once again, this was no different from what you had written before, if anything, this was probably more toned back. even with that, the fact that he had no warning about you dropping this song whatsoever had his face feeling warm at the contents.

switchin' them positions for you, cookin' in the kitchen and i'm in the bedroom . . .

he was uncharacteristically silent through the rest of the song, not glancing away from the video on his monitor. not even to stare at either one of his chat that he had open. he only snapped out of his daze when the lyrics begun to fade and the door to the room swung open.

"thoughts?" he heard your voice before he saw you, a skip in your step as you made it over to stand behind his chair. you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, eyes scanning the chat that he had finally started scrolling through again like he wasn't just at a loss for words.

"uh, i, uh," he stuttered momentarily, clearing his throat. the messages he scrolled through were turning into various greetings directed at you. you giggled softly in his ear too quiet for his mic to pick up. "you were fucking amazing, when aren't you?" he just managed to grasp his bearings, looking at you through his monitor.

"aw, i think your face is even a little pink," you leaned even closer, squinting as if to try see it through his beard. tone riddled with tease, "did i do all that?"

hasan glanced away, scoffing out a laugh that you knew was the result of him feeling flustered. he was never super vocal whenever he was embarrassed, but all the signs were there. his body heat had skyrocketed, and he twisting one of his silver rings with one hand while tapping the desk with his other. mission accomplished, you supposed. the secret song was all worth it to witness this.

"thought you'd appreciate me being the president," you shrugged, a grin spreading across your face when he didn't answer "would i be the hottest president ever?"

"mhm, i don't know," he pretended to think, "have you seen obama? man, he could hit a three."

you turned your head slowly, your eyes locking with the obama cutout leaning against the wall behind the small cutout of queen elizabeth and bernie sanders. on numerous occasions when you sat in the room while he was working or when they used to do the podcast in here, you would have to get up and turn it around so you didn't feel like obama was staring into your soul.

"yeah, okay," rolling your eyes, you straightened back up, mindlessly lifting your hands up to fluff up the back of his hair. "i'll let you get back to talking about . . ." you glanced at his other monitor, "elon musk." the face you pulled was enough to show your subtle disgust because you knew one word would have your pr bombarding your phone and you didn't really want to deal with that today.

"i'll take an encore of positions later," hasan added as an afterthought as your fingers left his hair and you waved goodbye to his stream.

"of the song or . . ." you raised an eyebrow at him, and he winked at you in response.

"surprise me."

[ohmanareyoucereal9]

Chris and Matt’s favourite kind of foreplay

chratt blurb whoop whoop

warnings: smut, no actual sex mentioned, just foreplay :p

M.S - Fingering, you see all those beckoning movements he does with his fingers in car videos? That’s muscle memory. He loves sinking his long digits into your soaked folds. The feeling of your sloppy pussy pulsing against his fingers can’t help but make his dick twitch immensely. He curls them all the way up into your g-spot, making you squirm. He absolutely is enamoured by how turned on you get when he prods at that one sweet spot. Your juices run down to his knuckles every time he pushes them in as deep as he can go. He sometimes even puts the soft pad of his thumb right on your clit, rubbing in tight circles over your swollen nub. The strange sensation of cold metal from his rings makes you jolt. Sometimes it gets so messy, he has no choice but to take them off. Matt drilling into your hole with his pretty fingers makes you spiral, it sends you into a trance– another worldly-like experience that regular masturbation on your own could never replicate. He knows exactly how to make you feel good, he knows your insides like the palm of his hand.

"Oh, Matt.."

"Fuckkk, you're so tight sweetheart.."

"Right there, keep going just like that."

"You squeeze around my fingers s'good."

"You're so sensitive for me baby."

"I'm so close.."

C.S - Cunnilingus, he prioritised your pleasure over anything else during sex. Turning you on turned him on. He peppers sweet kisses on your thighs as a way of teasing you, it always makes you more needy. What gets you riled up the most is when he gazes down at your swollen clit, breathing on it lightly. The air makes you tingle, before he goes back to work on your thighs. You whine in impatience when he does this. Once he’s finally done teasing, he starts to kitten lick your slit lazily while his hands grip feverishly at your thighs, his veins in them so prominent they look like they’re going to pop. He likes to roll his hips against your sheets from the immense euphoria he gets from eating you out, he can’t help it. The tension unwinding for him makes him moan into your folds, the vibrations make you shiver and your back arches away from your mattress. You like to sweep your fingers into his brunette curls and grasp at them, guiding him to your most sensitive spots. 

"Chris, just eat me out already.."

"Shh, you're so needy."

"Your pussy is so pretty."

"Chris.."

"I'm gonna cum..!"

"Finish on my tongue for me baby."

divider creds: @/adornedwithlight

comment if u wanna be on my taglist !

a/n: hi cutiesss ik it’s been a while since i wrote smth and posted it on here. might not be a good time to bring up i can’t think of a good enough concept for pt 2 of across the universe. on the bright side, im cooking up a storm for the carpenter!matt au. just give me 4 business days and motivation and ill get there (joking). but yeah ill figure something out one way or another. i was thinking about discontinuing across the universe bc i felt like i rushed into it way too quickly, ill probably be able to revive it and make it better though (i pray) anywayssss hope u enjoyed!!!

[wonwoosmagnetic]

No Saints Here | kmg

warning: light making out, showing of gun (not actual using)

Pairing : bodyguard!mingyu x rich!reader

Genre : angst, romance, mystery

synopsis :

Some secrets are meant to stay buried. Some love stories were never meant to begin.

Evangeline Perez thought she buried the past along with her sister. But when whispers of the truth resurface, she finds herself tangled in a web of secrets, power, and deception—one that could cost her everything.

Mingyu is a complication she never asked for. Cold, relentless, and far too protective, he’s determined to keep her from chasing ghosts. But Eva has never been one to obey orders, and the deeper she digs, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension pulling them together.

Because some things refuse to stay in the dark.

And some hearts are doomed from the start.

CHAPTER TWO

The door barely clicked shut before you pulled Elias toward you, your fingers tangling in his shirt as you pressed your lips to his. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just heat, just movement.

Elias responded instantly, his hands sliding down your waist, pulling your flush against him. The kiss was urgent, all hands and hunger, your fingers tugging at his collar while his palms roamed the curves of your body.

You both stumbled backward, knocking into a table, but neither of you cared. The city lights filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room, but everything beyond this moment felt distant, irrelevant.

Elias’s grip tightened, his lips trailing down the line of your jaw, your neck. You let your head tilt back slightly, your breath coming out in soft, shallow exhales. It didn’t matter that you barely knew him. It didn’t matter what came next. 

Your breath came fast and shallow, your skin still burning where Elias had touched you. The tension between them had been electric—until it was shattered by the sound of a gun being cocked.

Mingyu stood in the doorway, gun raised, eyes locked on Elias. His expression was unreadable, but the energy in the room shifted in an instant. Elias stiffened beside you, hands lifting slightly in a universal sign of surrender.

You felt your stomach plummet.

“Mingyu—” you started, but he didn’t even look at you.

“Step away from her.”

His voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that came before a storm.

Elias hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second. His gaze flickered between you and Mingyu, something calculating flashing behind his eyes. “She’s here of her own will.”

Mingyu’s jaw flexed. “She doesn’t belong here.”

You found your voice, your rage slicing through the suffocating tension. “You don’t get to decide where I belong.”

Mingyu’s eyes flicked to you then, dark and unreadable. “Neither does he.”

You clenched your fists. “You think you do?”

There was a pause. A beat too long. Then, slowly, deliberately, Mingyu lowered his gun.

“Your father sent me.”

The words landed like a blow. For a moment, everything in you froze.

Then you laughed. It was sharp, bitter, with no real humor behind it. “Of course he did.”

Elias exhaled sharply beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what kind of mess this is, but I’m not getting involved.” His voice was light, but there was something else there now—a hint of wariness, maybe even wit. He looked at Eva then, searching your face for something. “Are you sure you want to go with him?”

You hesitated. For the first time, you weren't sure.

Mingyu’s presence had always felt suffocating. Overbearing. But it also carried a kind of certainty you had never been afforded. And that terrified you.

You squared your shoulders, tilting your chin up. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened. Something in his jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue.

Elias studied you for another long second, then sighed, shaking his head. 

Mingyu extended a hand. You ignored it as you stepped past him, the weight of inevitability settling heavy on your shoulders.

---

Once you both were alone in the car, the silence was suffocating. The city lights blurred past them, but your mind was stuck on the moment Mingyu had barged in, gun in hand, shattering her night like glass.

You turned to him, fury bubbling up, your voice sharp as a blade. “You had no right!”

Mingyu, hands steady on the wheel, didn’t even flinch. “I had every right.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, really? Bursting into someone’s apartment with a gun? Dragging me out like I’m some reckless child? Enlighten me, Mingyu, how exactly do you justify that?”

His jaw tightened. “I had orders.”

You scoffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Yeah, well, fuck your orders.”

Mingyu exhaled sharply through his nose. “Eva, you don’t get it.”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” you shot back. “My father snaps his fingers, and you come running, guns blazing, like some attack dog.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles going white. “That’s not what this is.”

You turned fully to him now, glaring. “Then what is it? Because from where I’m sitting, it sure as hell feels like control. Like I have no goddamn say in my own life.”

Mingyu stayed silent for a long moment, eyes fixed on the road. Then, finally, he muttered, “It’s for your protection.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Protection from what, Mingyu? A random guy I was making out with? What exactly was the threat?”

His jaw clenched. “Save your anger for house, Evangeline."

You scoffed, turning to fully glare at him. "Oh, so now I’m Evangeline? You only use my full name when you're trying to make a point. Spit it out, Mingyu. What exactly am I supposed to be so mad about?"

Mingyu didn't answer immediately. He kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable, but the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel betrayed his frustration.

You leaned closer, your voice sharp. "What aren’t you telling me?"

Mingyu exhaled through his nose, like he was bracing himself. “Elias Park isn’t just some random guy you were making out with, Eva.”

You frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Mingyu finally looked at you, his gaze dark and serious. “It means you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. You hated this. The secrecy. The half-truths. The way Mingyu always acted like he was carrying some terrible weight you weren't allowed to see.

You crossed your arms. “Then tell me. Who is he, really?”

Mingyu hesitated for a split second—just long enough for you to catch it—before turning back to the road. “Someone you need to stay the hell away from.”

Your blood ran cold. Not because of the warning itself, but because of the way Mingyu said it. Like it wasn’t just a suggestion. Like it was an order.

---

You stood in the doorway, your heart hammering as the weight of everyone's stares bore down on you. The room was eerily silent for a second—before your father’s voice exploded through the air.

“What were you thinking?!”

His face was flushed with anger, his hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white.

You swallowed hard and looked down, biting your lip. There was no point in answering—not when his mind was already made up.

Seungcheol stood off to the side, arms crossed, his face unreadable, but the tension in his jaw told you everything. Nichika, you father’s wife, was lounging on the couch, her glass of wine swirling in her hand, watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement.

Your father took a step closer, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “You snuck out of the event, got caught, and with Elias Park of all people? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’ve just caused?”

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. Trouble? What trouble? Because you had been kissing someone? Or because you had been seen?

“I wasn’t—” you started, but your father slammed his palm onto the table, the sound making you flinch.

“Do not lie to me, Evangeline.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, the frustration bubbling in your chest close to boiling over. “I’m not lying,” you shot back, yourself voice sharp. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

Your father exhaled harshly. “You don’t understand what’s at stake here.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “No. I don’t. Because no one tells me anything. You just expect me to sit here and obey while you—”

“You don’t need to know everything,” Seungcheol cut in, his voice calm but firm. “You just need to listen.”

You turned to him, searching for even a flicker of understanding in his eyes. But there was nothing—just the same quiet authority, the same frustrating distance he always kept.

“That’s bullshit,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“Enough.” Your father’s voice was final, his patience wearing thin. “Go to your room. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

Your jaw clenched. Of course. Tomorrow. Like that conversation would ever happen. Like it hadn’t always been this way.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed up the stairs, your pulse pounding in her ears.

But one thing was clear—

They were hiding something from you.

And you were going to find out what.

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

The morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains, painting long streaks of gold across the room. You lay still, eyes half-lidded, staring at the ceiling as the echoes of last night’s disaster settled deep in your bones.

Then—bang, bang, bang.

The door burst open before she could respond.

“Get up.” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, filled with barely concealed irritation.

You groaned, pressing a pillow over your face. “Fuck off.”

“Not happening.” His footsteps were heavy as he stepped inside. “You’ve got five minutes before Father drags you out himself. And if you thought last night was bad, wait until you see how pissed he is this morning.”

You let out a slow breath, rubbing your temples. “I don’t see why you care.”

Seungcheol let out a short, humorless laugh. “You really don’t, do you?” His tone was ice, sharp enough to cut. “You think you can just go around acting like nothing matters? Like there aren’t consequences?”

You sat up, your head throbbing. “Oh, spare me the lecture, Seungcheol.” Your voice was hoarse, exhausted. “What’s the worst that could happen? Huh? Father yells at me? He already did that. Nichika looks at me like I’m a fucking disgrace? Been there, done that. So what, Seungcheol? What exactly am I supposed to be scared of?”

His jaw tensed. “You should be scared of what happens when Father decides you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Silence.

Seungcheol didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He just stared at her, something dark and unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him.

"Little Shit."

--

The breakfast table was tense, the air thick with unspoken words.

You sat across from your father, your hands resting idly in your lap. The quiet clinking of silverware was the only sound in the room as Nichika delicately stirred her tea, her watchful eyes flicking between them with veiled amusement.

Your father finally set his cup down with a measured clink. “You will stay away from Elias Park.”

You exhaled slowly, setting your fork down. You didn’t look up. “Why?”

His voice remained steady, firm. “Because I said so.”

A small, humorless smile tugged at your lips. “That’s not a reason.”

His gaze hardened. “It’s the only reason you need.”

You let out a quiet scoff, shaking your head. "You can’t control everything I do.”

Your father leaned back slightly, considering you. “You’d be surprised.”

You met his gaze then, eyes cold. You could feel Nichika’s amusement from across the table, like this was some kind of game to her.

You swallowed the sharp words threatening to spill out. Instead, You simply pushed your chair back and stood, your appetite gone. No one stopped you as you turned and left, though you could feel their eyes on you the entire way out.

------

Your voice was rushed as you pressed your phone to your ear, pacing your bedroom. “Elias, I know that was bad, but please—”

Elias cut her off, his tone sharp. “Bad? Eva, your guy put a gun in my face.”

You winced, closing your eyes. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t really fix that, does it?” he snapped. There was a pause, his breathing uneven.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your dresser. “It’s complicated. I need to talk to you though, even though I know you were fucking with me.”

A dry, humorless laugh came through the speaker. “No shit.”

You bit your lip, willing herself to stay calm. “Elias, I didn’t want this to happen. I just—fine. I want to talk about something. It is about my family.”

He was silent for a long moment, and for the first time, you were genuinely afraid of his answer.

Elias sighed on the other end of the line, the tension in his silence heavier than words.

You gripped your phone tighter, your voice barely above a whisper. “Elias, please.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving you gripping your phone, your heart pounding just a little too hard.

You exhaled slowly, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your mind was made up. You couldn’t keep living under their control, pretending you were fine with all of this.

--

Caro barely had time to process before you stormed into the room, your voice sharp with frustration.

“Caro! Can you fucking believe them?” You exclaimed, throwing your bag onto the couch. Your whole body radiated anger, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Caro blinked, looking up from her phone. “Uh… them, as in?”

You let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. “My father. My brother. The whole damn house acting like I’m some fucking prisoner they can just order around!”

Caro sighed, setting her phone down. “What happened now?”

You ran a hand through your hair, pacing. “They lost their minds because I was with Elias. Like, full-on interrogation, yelling, threats, the whole fucking thing.”

Caro winced. “Shit.”

“Yeah. And guess what? I’m still meeting him,” you said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I don’t care what they say. I can’t live like this, Caro. I won’t.”

You paced the room, your movements sharp, restless. Your frustration was palpable, crackling in the air between them.

“If I stop now, then when?” you snapped, running a hand through your hair. “Next thing I know, I’ll be locked away like fucking Rapunzel—trapped, controlled, waiting for permission to breathe.”

Caro watched you carefully, arms crossed. She knew you had a point—your family wasn’t just strict, they were ruthless. Defying them wasn’t just rebellious. It was dangerous.

“You know this isn’t just about rules,” Caro said cautiously. “Your family—they don’t just make threats. They follow through.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, trust me, I know.”

Caro hesitated, then sighed. “So what now? What’s your grand plan?”

You finally stopped pacing, turning to face her, fire burning in your eyes. “I go. I meet Elias. And I don’t look back.”

Caro crossed her arms, watching Eva carefully. "So let me get this straight—you’re just going to Elias willingly knowing he is trouble?"

You met her gaze without hesitation. "Yes. If they won’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll figure it out myself."

Caro let out a slow breath. "That’s a dangerous game, Eva."

You scoffed. "So is letting them keep controlling me. I need to know the truth."

---

[worldly-fluster]

Snapdragon

Part 4 of ?

Sylus x non-mc Reader

**It's starting to come together...the dots are connecting and it. Is. Glorious. lol**

*I know I lied about putting this on pause but... inspiration hit lol*

---

We sat in the sports car in silence for a while before he started driving, to the N109 zone I'm guessing.

I sat in the passenger seat quietly, tapping my fingers on my lap nervously. Not really knowing what to do, should I just ask him out right if he's my Sylus? Or just accept that he most likely isn't?

"...What are you thinking?"

I flinch before smiling awkwardly towards him, "Just...about how I could go home."

Sylus kept his gaze on the road ahead and hummed, "I'll try my best to help." He sent me a smirk before looking back at the road once more.

I send him a smile as well before turning back to the window.

Sylus continues to drive, taking me to his base in the N109 Zone, where I will now be staying at until I either find a way home or get sent somewhere else.

The ride was longer than I thought, and I was so tired. Even if this Sylus isn't mine...I'm happy to at least have a familiar face with me now, other than my own.

I ended up falling asleep before making it to our destination.

---

When I woke up, I was met with the twin masks of Luke and Kieran.

"She's awake Boss!"

"I see that."

I hear Sylus' voice coming from another area of the room. I look to the side of my spot on a couch to see Sylus sitting on an armchair, drinking an amber liquid in a clear glass.

"....do you have any Irish cream?"

Luke and Kieran share a look before laughing.

"You heard her," Sylus interrupts them, "Get the Irish cream."

"On it Boss!"

I chuckled awkwardly as I brought my hand up to run through my hair.

"I was just kidding...I'm too much of a lightweight. One sip will get me tipsy."

I watched as Luke came back in with a blue bottle and set it on one of the many small tables.

"Thank you, though."

Sylus drank what was left in his glass before tilting his head in a way that reminded me of my Snapdragon, making me look away.

"It'll be here if you want any, now I have some business I have to take care of." He stands and places his glass next to the blue bottle, "Don't wait for me."

And then he was gone, leaving me with the Twins.

"Sooo...are you a lightweight?"

---

MC has had a few drinks, thanks to Luke and Kieran wanting to see if she was actually a lightweight like she said.

Barely half a drink later and she is gone with the wind.

Sylus comes back from wherever he went, maybe an hour or two later, only to find a drunk MC mumbling something about flowers. Luke and Kieran were sent to finish a few errands while Sylus assessed the 'damage' they caused while he was gone.

When he gets closer and MC sees him, she smiles big and makes grabby hands towards him from her seat on the couch.

"There my Snapdragon *hick* I missss you~ Where you been?"

Sylus' eyes widened, it felt like the air was pulled right out of his lungs. What did you just call him?

Sylus was close enough that she was able to grab one of his hands and as she held it, she scrunched up her face.

"Wait...you're not My Snapdragon, he has claws." She looked up at Sylus' widened eyes, "Your eyes don't glow as much as his either...no horns..."

Tears started gathering in her eyes, "I want My Snapdragon..."

Sylus immediately gets onto his knees in front of her, placing her hands on his face with his eyes closed to hide his own tears starting to gather.

"I'm here..." He rubbs his face into her palms, her familiar scent entering his nose, "I'm here...you're here with me now, your Snapdragon is here."

Her eyes soften as a few tears fall, her thumbs rubbing under his eyes gently.

He opens his eyes and their eyes lock.

"My Snapdragon?"

"Yes..."

Their voices were quiet as they stared into one anothers eyes. After a moment, more tears gathered in her eyes and she pulled him into a warm embrace.

He met her hug with reverance, thinking that, before this, that he would have never been able to hold her ever again. As his arms wrapped securely around her, as if to make sure she was real and that she wouldn't slip away like in so many of his dreams...like she did so long ago.

"You're here," He repeated, reasuring himself more than her now, "You're here..."

She had her face burried in his neck, taking in his own scent. It was different.

It used to remind her of fire, brimstone, wildflowers and wilderness.

Now it smelled of soot, leather, with a hint of those same wildflowers, but somehow seemed more tame.

Sylus hugged her closer to him, falling back on the couch with a grunt, not wanting to move far at the moment in fear it might bring him out of this dream.

While she cuddled into his chest, any doubt that she wasn't his MC left him as he heard her familiar hums of a song he hasn't heard in what felt like forever.

It must be a dream...he never wants to wake up if it is.

---

*Sorry it's short, wanted to post something even if it was just a little because its been a bit*

**I think the next Part will be the last one of Snapdragon, if not it'll be the one after it**

Tag list: @poptrim @xxfaithlynxx @lavvytae @ellieevu

I hope that's everyone lol if not I'll update it later

[the0-tdh]

UNDER THE MASK

---/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------

Jake had always been good at keeping secrets. Balancing his double life as a college student by day and the city's masked vigilante, Phantom, by night was second nature to him. And most importantly—his boyfriend, M/N, had no clue.

Or at least, that’s what Jake thought.

---/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------

MASTERLIST

---/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------

"You’re late."

M/N crossed his arms, standing at the entrance of their shared apartment, his gaze locked onto Jake, who had just stumbled in—hair messy, clothes slightly rumpled, and a faint bruise peeking out from his collar.

Jake froze for a second before flashing his usual sheepish smile. "Traffic was bad?"

M/N raised a brow. "You don’t even have a car."

"Uh… subway delays?" Jake tried, scratching the back of his head.

M/N narrowed his eyes. "Really? Because I checked, and the subway was running fine."

Jake mentally cursed. He had fought off an entire gang of high-tech robbers an hour ago, chased them across half the city, and barely made it back before M/N got too suspicious. He could deal with criminals, but M/N’s interrogation skills? That was a whole different kind of danger.

M/N sighed, stepping closer. "Jake… this isn’t the first time you’ve come home looking like this." His voice softened, concern replacing his frustration. "Are you in trouble? Because if you are, you know you can tell me, right?"

Jake’s heart clenched. He hated lying to M/N. But he couldn’t just say, “Oh yeah, babe, I’m actually a superhero fighting crime every night. That bruise? Totally from getting thrown into a wall by a guy with laser gloves.”

Instead, he cupped M/N’s face gently, forcing a reassuring smile. "I promise, it’s nothing bad. I just… help people sometimes."

M/N studied his face, searching for something—an answer, the truth, maybe even a lie that felt less suspicious. Finally, he sighed and leaned into Jake’s touch. "Just… be careful, okay?"

Jake kissed his forehead, guilt gnawing at him. "Always."

But deep down, he knew the truth wouldn’t stay hidden forever. And when that day came, he just hoped M/N would still look at him the same way.

---

Jake thought he had gotten away with it.

M/N had finally let it go—for now—and Jake told himself he’d be more careful. No more close calls. No more coming home looking like he got hit by a truck (even if, technically, that had happened once… but he healed fast).

But life had other plans.

It started with the news.

“The city’s masked vigilante strikes again! Witnesses report seeing the mysterious hero, known as ‘Phantom,’ stopping an armed robbery downtown before disappearing into the night.”

M/N had glanced at the screen, then at Jake, who had been sipping his coffee way too fast to be normal.

"That Phantom guy is all over the news lately," M/N mused. "Kinda cool, don’t you think?"

Jake had just nodded, trying not to choke on his drink. "Y-Yeah. Super cool."

M/N tilted his head. "You ever wonder who he is?"

Jake nearly dropped his mug. "Uh—what?"

M/N chuckled. "Come on, aren’t you curious? A random guy running around saving people, never getting caught? That’s gotta take serious skill."

Jake forced a casual shrug. "I guess."

M/N leaned in, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "What if it was someone we knew?"

Jake’s heart stopped.

M/N was messing with him. He had to be. There was no way he knew.

So Jake did what any normal person would do in this situation.

He laughed. "Pfft, yeah right! Like who?"

M/N tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Hmm. Maybe someone who always shows up late, with bruises and really bad excuses?"

Jake’s soul left his body.

M/N stared at him, waiting. And then—

He laughed. "Relax, babe. I’m joking."

Jake let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. "Haha… yeah. Joking."

But as M/N turned back to the TV, Jake saw it—just for a second. That look.

Like he wasn’t completely joking.

Like he suspected something.

And that? That was dangerous.

Because if M/N kept looking too closely… he might just find out the truth.

And once that happened, there was no turning back.

---

Jake had been extra careful ever since M/N’s joke—that wasn’t really a joke.

No more close calls. No more last-minute arrivals with bruises he couldn’t explain. He even started taking taxis home just to sell the “traffic was bad” excuse better.

But fate had other plans. Again.

---

It was supposed to be a normal night. A quiet dinner at home, a movie, maybe falling asleep on the couch together.

But then Jake’s phone vibrated.

An alert from his secret comms.

[Armed robbery in progress—6th Avenue. Multiple hostages. Police can’t get in.]

Jake’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t ignore it.

But M/N was right there, sitting across from him, eating takeout and rambling about something that happened at work. He looked so happy. So peaceful.

Jake clenched his fists. He hated lying. But he had to go.

He forced a smile. "Hey, babe, I just remembered—I, uh, left my wallet at the café earlier. Gotta go grab it before they close."

M/N blinked. "Your wallet? That’s… weird. You never forget stuff like that."

"Yeah, well… first time for everything!" Jake stood up quickly, grabbing his jacket. "I’ll be back soon, okay?"

M/N narrowed his eyes. "Want me to come with you?"

"No!" Jake said, a little too fast. "I mean, it’s fine. You stay here, relax."

M/N didn’t look convinced. But he sighed and waved him off. "Fine, fine. Just don’t take forever."

Jake pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "Promise."

And with that, he was gone.

---

An Hour Later…

M/N was starting to get annoyed.

Jake was still not back.

And then—

BREAKING NEWS: LIVE FOOTAGE OF PHANTOM TAKING DOWN ARMED ROBBERS ON 6TH AVENUE!

M/N turned to the TV just in time to see the masked vigilante flipping over a counter, dodging bullets with insane speed, taking out three men in seconds.

And the way he moved…

The way he fought…

M/N’s heart pounded.

Because that—

That looked exactly like Jake.

He stared at the screen, watching as Phantom took down the last guy with a spinning kick, then disappeared before the cops could catch him.

A minute later, his phone buzzed.

[Jake: Hey, babe. Just got my wallet. Heading back now. Love you <3]

M/N knew.

He knew.

And now, there was only one thing left to do.

---

When Jake walked through the door, M/N was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, eyes locked on him.

"You get your wallet?" M/N asked, voice eerily calm.

Jake hesitated. "...Yeah?"

M/N stood up, stepping closer. "Funny. Because I just watched Phantom take down an entire gang on the news."

Jake froze.

M/N tilted his head. "You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, babe?"

Silence.

Then—

"...I can explain."

M/N smirked. "Oh, you better."

[daydreamabout]

Old Flames, New Patrols (Tim Bradford Imagine x exwife!reader)

Summary: When the precinct runs short on officers, you're transferred to fill the gap. Now, you're back on patrol with your ex-husband, Tim—as you realize how much of your confidence was tied to him, even after all this time. [mentions of domestic disturbance]

It’s your first day back at the precinct after the transfer. The air feels thick as you walk into the building, the smell of stale coffee and the sharp scent of bleach from the cleaning supplies hitting your senses. You’ve been away for two years, but it still looks the same—gray walls, buzzing lights, officers milling around, deep in conversation or focused on their desks.

You make your way toward the briefing room, your footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. Each step feels heavier, the tension in the air creeping up your spine. You haven't seen Tim since the divorce, and the thought of being in the same space with him again, working side by side for three months, is... unsettling.

You push the door open and step inside. The room goes quiet for a moment, eyes flicking toward you. Most of the officers don’t know who you are—just that you're the one here to help out. Your eyes immediately search for the familiar face you used to wake up to every day. There’s Tim, standing by the windows, arms crossed over his chest. He looks exactly the same. Maybe a little more worn down, but it’s him. His eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second, but he quickly looks away. You can’t tell if it’s relief or discomfort on his face.

Sargeant Grey is at the front, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. He clears his throat, and the chatter dies down. You take your seat at the back of the room, feeling all the eyes on you now. Tim doesn’t acknowledge you further, though you can sense him there, just within reach. It's almost suffocating.

"Alright, listen up," Grey’s gravelly voice cuts through the tension in the room. "We’re short-handed today, so we need to make it count. Y/N, welcome back. You’re only here for three months, so let’s make this time worth it. We need all hands on deck. Get familiar with the new assignments, hit the ground running. You’re in with Tim for your shift today. I trust you two can handle it."

You don’t miss the way Tim’s jaw tightens at the mention of your name. He doesn’t look at you, but his body posture shifts, a barely noticeable tension seeping through his rigid stance. Sargeant Grey gives a brief rundown of the cases that need immediate attention, but your mind keeps drifting back to your ex.

It’s strange. Working together again feels... weird. Your whole relationship feels like a lifetime ago, but the remnants of it are still there, sitting between you both. You’ve built your life, your career, apart, but here you are—back together in the same room. The silence between you both says everything that words can’t. He’s still the same —strong, sharp, focused. But there's a distance there now, a wall between you that wasn’t there before.

Grey finishes up with the details. "Any questions? No? Good. Get out there and stay safe."

The briefing wraps up, and officers start filing out, but you linger, just for a second. You grab your bag and head out to the garage where the cars are parked. Tim's footsteps follow behind you, the sound too familiar. You can feel him closing the space between you but neither of you says anything. He grabs his keys, but you don’t meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the cruiser parked in front of you, doing your best to ignore the sharp pang in your chest.

“Ready?” Tim’s voice is low, controlled. He doesn’t wait for a response, just opens the door and slides in.

You hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight of the passenger seat you once called your own. The silence stretches out, thick and suffocating. Finally, you slip into the seat next to him, and the moment your seatbelt clicks, you feel the tension in the car increase. Neither of you says a word as the engine roars to life.

The drive to your first assignment feels longer than it should. Neither of you speak, both of you caught in that strange limbo of once being partners—both on and off the job—and now, just colleagues, with an unspoken history lingering in every shared glance and every breath you take in the confined space of the cruiser. You’re here to do a job, but underneath it all, it’s so much more than that.

The silence is almost suffocating as the cruiser rolls through the city, its headlights cutting through the darkened streets. You try to focus on the task ahead—on the job—but your thoughts keep drifting. His presence in the car, right next to you, brings back a rush of memories. The good, the bad, and everything in between. You can still picture him in your mind—the way he would always drive with his hand resting on the wheel, his jaw clenched in concentration, his brow furrowed when things got tense. It’s all still there, etched into your memory. But now, it feels like looking at a stranger.

The first call comes through over the radio.

“Domestic disturbance,” Tim says, breaking the silence. His voice is neutral, businesslike. No trace of the warmth that once was between you two. His hands grip the wheel tighter, his knuckles white.

“Right,” you reply, your voice a little more clipped than you intend. You don’t want to sound cold, but you’re finding it hard to slip into the routine of working together like nothing has changed.

You’ve been through hundreds of calls like this, but tonight, the familiar rush of adrenaline feels different. You can’t help but notice how Tim moves through the motions with ease, just like he always did. He’s in his element, despite the tension. He’s a cop, through and through.

He pulls up in front of a small house, the flashing lights of the squad car casting long shadows on the cracked sidewalk. A woman stands on the porch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes wide and scared.

You both get out, and Tim’s already moving forward, his pace measured, controlled. You follow, but everything feels slow, like you’re wading through water. The distance between you both is tangible, and it’s hard to ignore.

“Ma’am,” he starts, his voice calm, authoritative, but soft enough to not add to the fear in the woman’s eyes. “What’s going on here?”

You stand off to the side, arms crossed over your chest, watching the interaction with practiced eyes. Tim does this so effortlessly—he’s always been the one to take charge in situations like this, his presence reassuring. It makes you realize, once again, how much of your own confidence came from being able to work alongside him.

Flashback

Tim sat next to you in the passenger seat, his presence a force in the small car. You’d learned to appreciate the quiet moments with him, the way he seemed to ground everything in an otherwise chaotic world. The air smelled faintly of stale coffee and something more like... pizza, maybe? But you didn’t ask.

“Do you ever just—” Tim started, his voice cutting through the quiet. “—stop thinking?”

You glanced at him as you maneuvered through the empty streets. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he continued, looking out the window. “You’re always so... together. Even when things are crazy, you handle it like you’ve got everything under control.”

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped you. “It’s called faking it, Tim. You should try it sometime.”

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of his lips tugged into that small, familiar smirk. “Right. But that doesn’t explain how you make it look so easy.”

Your heart skipped, but you pushed the fluttering feeling aside. Tim wasn’t one for compliments, so when he said things like this, it threw you off a little. You didn’t even know how to respond.

You had learned to keep a cool head, to act calm and confident on the outside, especially with him around. Working alongside wasn’t just about being a good partner. It was about survival. He had a way of making you feel like you could take on anything. And maybe, somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d begun to believe it.

But his question made you realize something. That confidence you projected? It wasn’t just something you’d built from your own experience. No, it was more than that. It came from the way Tim had made you feel when you worked together, the way he trusted you without hesitation, the way he always made sure you knew you were capable, even when you doubted yourself.

You turned your attention back to the road. “It’s... it’s easier when you know you’ve got someone watching your back.”

“Sounds nice,” Tim repeated softly, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he shifted in his seat. “You always seem like you’ve got it handled. Like you don’t need anyone.”

You didn’t look at him this time. “Well, I don’t need anyone to tell me how to do my job.”

There was a pause, and then he asked, almost like he was still testing the waters, “But you’re okay with me being here, right? With me helping out?”

You were taken aback, your fingers tightening on the wheel. It wasn’t a question you expected, not from him. There had always been a kind of unspoken understanding between you two, a connection that didn’t need words. But something in his tone made you realize maybe he was starting to see you differently, maybe even see through the walls you’d put up.

You had never thought about it like that before, but the truth was, you did rely on him. Not just in a professional sense, but in a way that ran deeper than that. It was something you hadn’t admitted to yourself. You didn’t need him to carry the weight of your confidence, but somehow, working alongside him made everything feel a little bit lighter.

“I never said I didn’t need you,” you finally said, the words coming out more vulnerable than you intended. “But I like to keep it... controlled. Keeps things simple.”

Tim didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his gaze on you, searching, like he was seeing something you weren’t saying. His lips parted, but then he just nodded. “I get it.”

The conversation lingered between you for the rest of the drive, quiet and unspoken. But as you pulled up to the precinct and parked, something about the way Tim looked at you felt different. It wasn’t pity or judgment—nothing like that. It was just... understanding.

That understanding continued through the day as you went through your shifts. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you could feel Tim’s eyes on you in a way that wasn’t just professional. It was like he was seeing you for the first time—really seeing you—not just as his partner, but as someone who had built this unshakable front because of everything you had been through. Because of how much you depended on him, and how much you feared depending on anyone at all.

Later that day, when you were taking a break, Tim leaned against the edge of the car, his usual calm demeanor still present, but with something else in his eyes. “Hey,” he said, his tone lighter than before. “If you ever need to talk, you know... I’m here.”

You looked up, surprised by the softness in his voice. It wasn’t the standard "don’t hesitate" cop speak. It was... genuine. Maybe that’s what hit you hardest—how much he had always been there, even in the background. Always steady. Always reliable.

And maybe, just maybe, you realized that the confidence you carried wasn’t just because you were good at your job. It was because you had someone who believed in you, who was there in the trenches with you, whether you showed it or not. Tim had always been your anchor in the chaos and you allowed yourself to see it.

You smiled, a little more honestly than you expected. “I know, Tim. I know.”

You realized how much of your confidence had come from being able to work alongside him—because with Tim Bradford by your side, you didn’t have to fake anything. You could just be you, and that was enough.

Flashback end

You almost catch yourself looking at him, but you quickly look away, focusing back on the woman’s trembling form. She explains in a shaky voice, detailing a fight with her partner, a mix of shouting and pushing, nothing too serious but enough to scare her. It’s routine. No weapons involved, just tempers flaring.

He nods, taking in the information, his expression unreadable. You both move through the process of taking statements, confirming details, and ensuring the situation doesn’t escalate. Tim handles it like he always does—efficient, calm, with just enough authority to keep things from spinning out of control.

After everything is wrapped up and the woman is safely back inside, his head turns to you, his expression guarded but not unkind.

“You good?” he asks, his voice still holding that professional distance.

“Yeah,” you reply, though you’re not sure you are. The tension between you both is like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap at any second. But for now, you push that feeling aside. “Just... like old times.”

“Yeah.” His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he turns away, heading back to the car.

You both fall back into the cruiser without another word, the quiet between you hanging heavy in the air. The drive to the next call feels just as tense, if not more so. It’s hard to focus on the work when everything else feels like it’s shifting beneath your feet. You’re no longer the partners you once were, but here you are, side by side, forced to navigate the job together again.

Another call comes through, and this one’s more serious. A robbery in progress, shots fired. The words slice through the air, and Tim’s reaction is instant. His body tenses, his focus sharpening. He slams the gas, and you feel the jolt of speed as the city blurs around you. The momentary distraction of adrenaline sweeps the tension between you both aside. There’s no time for personal issues, not with this on the line.

“Stay sharp,” Tim says, his voice a low growl, a tone that makes it clear he’s in full cop mode now.

You nod, your body moving on autopilot as the car skids around corners, sirens blaring. Everything else falls away as the job takes over. The past is shoved to the back of your mind, at least for now. It’s just you and him again—partners in the field.

When you arrive at the scene, chaos unfolds before your eyes. Officers are already moving in, securing the area. The suspect is barricaded inside, and you can hear the distant crackle of gunfire. The tension is palpable, but Tim’s instincts take over. He’s the one you always relied on in these situations.

Without hesitation, he starts directing officers, calling the shots. You move with him, side by side, working in sync, though the connection feels distant now.

You both position yourselves at the entrance, ready for whatever happens next. But this time, there’s a stark difference between you and him. A line you both can’t cross, no matter how much you wish you could. The job demands all of you, and right now, that’s all that matters.

“Cover me,” Tim says, his voice steady but with that sharp edge you know all too well. He doesn’t need to say more—you know what he means. You always did.

As he moves toward the building, you stay behind, your hand resting on your holster, eyes scanning the surroundings. The air is thick with danger, and your heart races, not from the nerves of the situation, but because you’re working with him again.

As the situation continues to unfold, you can’t shake the feeling that something is missing—the warmth, the camaraderie, the bond. It’s all there in the motions, in the way you both know what the other is thinking without words. But it's not enough anymore. It never will be. Not after everything that’s happened.

When the dust settles and the situation is handled, you both stand in the aftermath, silently assessing the damage.

“Good work,” Tim says, his voice colder than before. But there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something you can’t quite place.

You nod. “You too.”

As you head back to the cruiser, the weight of the day presses down on you, and you realize just how much you’ve missed this—being out here, in the field, with Tim.

But you also realize that the things you miss aren’t coming back. Not the way you want the-, wait what?

[raineandsky]

#140

The hero rips the shop door clean off its hinges, and demands into the fleeing crowds, “Where’s the thief?”

People seem much too busy leaping out the way of the hero’s assault to answer him. He surveys the scattering crowds idly, waiting for his heroic senses to kick in and decide on someone amongst the masses. It does after a long second, locking in on someone darting for the back entrance, and the hero doesn’t waste time guessing whether his assumption is right.

The door batters off the wall loudly as the villain stumbles down the steps. Probably a favour to the shop—the hero’s already caused enough damage to the front door. He steps out as the villain runs across the car park. He just watches for a moment as he goes, humming a laugh as the man almost runs straight into one of the parked cars.

The hero isn’t in any rush. He always catches his prey. This may be the villain’s life on the line, but to the hero this is a simple game of cat and mouse.

He finally gives chase as the villain disappears around the corner. It’s not hard; the villain’s barely halfway down the road when the hero catches up to him. He cuts the thief off, bringing him to a skidding halt, but this isn’t capture to the villain—it won’t be until the hero has him practically unconscious, probably. The thief turns on his heel and leaps down a side-alley.

The hero always found it funny that these fiends still try to escape him, even after his reputation started to get around—he always catches criminals, and it’s always worse for those who think they can get away.

Clearly this one hasn’t heard the stories. The hero blocks his escape, grabbing onto his shirt so he doesn’t try doing a one-eighty again. The villain makes some noise that sounds a bit like, “Augh!”

“Nice try,” the hero snaps coldly. The villain looks terrified, for lack of a better word. “Now give me the stuff you’ve stolen.”

With shaking hands, the villain reaches into his coat. The hero tenses, prepared to snatch a weapon away, but after a moment of fumbling the villain presents him with a single apple.

“You should know better than to mess with a hero.” The hero tightens his hold on the other’s shirt. “Show me what you actually took.”

The villain pulls a pained face. “That- That’s it. That’s all I took. It was a grocery store, there wasn’t much else to take.”

He barks a laugh, once, awkward. The hero isn’t laughing. “They sent me after you for an apple.”

He can kind of see it now. His shirt is crumpled, his coat plain, his hair neat. The expression of a scared animal. The hero scowls—this isn’t a villain.

He gives the thief a shove, sending him stumbling back. He almost trips over a brick laying on the floor. The sight makes the hero feel even more tricked.

He holds his hand out expectantly. “Give me that.”

The civilian looks at the apple sitting in his palm. Then he sighs and puts it in the hero's expectant hold.

“There’s nearly no money going into this city,” he comments as the hero takes a bite. “None of us normal people can afford anything.”

“Get a better job then.”

“Not all of us can be heroes.”

The hero glances at him. It sounds like it’s bordering an insult but the man isn’t looking at him, so he simply hums in disinterest before heading back to the shop.

“Thank you!” the shopkeeper cries when the hero appears in the doorway. “Did you catch the thief?”

The hero takes another bite of his apple. “No,” he says flatly. “What’d he take?”

“Basically my whole shop!” The shopkeeper gestures vaguely to the shop behind her, which frankly looks more ransacked by the hero’s entrance than an actual thief. “He’s probably taken half my profits for this month with him.”

The hero nods idly. He’s only half listening—he’s busy reining in his annoyance. “Sorry he got away, then.” The apple crunches loudly into the following silence. “Better luck next time.”

“Thank you for trying. I’ve no doubt he’ll be back—I’ll call you then!”

The shopkeeper shouts that last part, since the hero’s already checked out of the conversation and is making his way to the shattered front door.

He can’t believe he got called out here for this. These common shop owners don’t seem to remember that heroes have better things to be doing than chasing petty thieves. He wrecks the last standing glass panel on his way out to make the point.