#also when he answers that wasn't the reason he finds it funny that she thinks that bc it couldn't be farther from the truth but when he sees

[zoennes]

[logansdoll]

I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one

-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.

Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james

I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good

I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.

contingency

running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.

'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'

With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.

Why couldn't he just remember?

He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.

But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.

Something crucial.

"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."

Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.

"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.

In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.

"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."

A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.

"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."

"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.

Not knowing was tearing him apart.

Who was (y/n)?

What were you to him?

And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?

All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.

Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:

CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.

"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.

He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.

'Fuck it.'

Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.

He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.

Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.

Yet he knew he wasn't.

He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.

For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.

Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.

He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.

EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency

Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.

"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.

So home-like.

Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.

Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.

And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.

Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.

"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."

"No..."

"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.

He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Well?" you asked, nervous.

"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."

"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.

"I can't..."

"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."

"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.

"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"

Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.

"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.

"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.

"She can't..."

"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."

Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.

"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.

"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."

He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.

"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"

He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."

"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.

How could he have ever forgotten you?

Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.

Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.

He could remember so clearly now.

You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.

No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.

You were his escape, his safety, his peace.

Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.

Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.

With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.

Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.

He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.

After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.

The softness of your cheeks.

The kindness of your eyes.

The plumpness of your lips.

Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.

Logan couldn't find the words.

The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.

"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.

That's right!

James!

His name was James!

"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"

You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.

"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.

Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.

"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"

"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"

He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.

"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.

"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"

Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.

'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'

Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.

"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"

In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.

"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.

"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.

Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.

"She's my wife..."

bonus !!

"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"

[married-to-google-translater]

I know Halloween is VERY far, but I thought this was too funny not to tell you (Especially since it’s based around my 2 Husbands!)

Reader dresses as the Ghost Bride (Princess Eliza) and sneaks into Ignihyde/Diasomnia with the help of Ortho/Lilia to prank their Housewarden

She sneaks into their rooms and wakes them up asking them to ‘Marry me’

You know what Idia will do (Scream and run away, only to later realize his crush basically ASKED him for marriage, but his charisma/social bar is too low for him to say yes!)

…But it just backfires on Malleus as he’s just smiling in pure joy as he takes out a little checklist VOLUME BOOKS on his ideas for the perfect wedding but he’s very flexible to talk about compromises to make a perfect wedding! 🤣

Why do you think?

No worrys <3 No worrys <3 You aren't late at all~~ just little early ;3

Malleus Draconia

You and Malleus were good "friends".

You really wanted more.

And you thought this would be the best way to tell him.

You thought it really wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Because Malleus teleported to your room at random times for reasons that were a complete mystery to you.

The plan was perfect.

But you'd have to ask Lilia for help.

Because otherwise a loud crocodile could ruin your plan.

Lilia would help you into the Diasomnia dormitory.

And he would also tell you where the Malleus room is.

You kept waiting for Sebek to jump around the corner and start yelling something.

However, that doesn't happen.

You finally made it safely to the Malleus room.

He would look hot AF when he was asleep.

You almost feel bad waking him up for this.

ALMOST

Malleus would be really confused at first.

It would take him a moment to register what you were saying.

But when he did…

Malleus would be really happy.

He would have waited a very long time for this.

Malleus would surely have whole novels written about your wedding plans

Btw you guys are getting married now.

Oooh was that just a joke?

Yeaaaaah too bad.

You asked and Malleus answered in the affirmative.

" Oh Mc I'm so happy. I say yes. We will get married as soon as possible. Oh Mc I love you so much. * takes out the 1000-page Novel * So I've already made some wedding plans. "

Idia Shourd

You and Idia were friends.

You had met through the internet.

And your friendship was going well.

But you wanted a little more.

You really wouldn't know how to confess your feelings to Idia.

It felt like you were too shy and boring.

So you decided to talk to Ortho about it.

And together you came up with this idea.

Because that would be a little fun.

Ortho helped you get into the dorm.

And finding his room wasn't difficult.

Of course, Idia wouldn't be sleeping.

Even if it's 1:00 AM.

Sleep rhythm pfffffffft who needs that?

Idia is surprisingly moody

Most likely, Idia would be watching anime or playing something when you sneaked into his room.

He would 100% have a heart attack if he thought you were Eliza…

When he realizes that you are not Eliza he would calm down.

Just so you could have another heart attack because you're in his room.

And did you just ask him to marry you?

Idia wouldn't really know how to handle this information.

Idia.exe has stopped working.

He really doesn't know what to say.

Maybe in a couple of hours he will get his thoughts in order.

[lola-bunn1]

Hey! please could you write a Neteyam x reader?

The reader has always been seen as ‘one of the boys’ and Neteyam treats her as a friend. She becomes fed up of Neteyam not noticing her as a woman so she decides to act feminine or flirty. Neteyam notices her change in demeanour and how she attracts attention of another male which causes him to be jealous. This causes an argument which leads to a confession and maybe a little smut.

❥ a/n: i hope this turned out the way you wanted! im not good with smut so it was little ik im sorry !! also grace is alive here bc theres mentions of her school

Neteyam has always been apart of your life, you grew close to him and he grew close to you. Not in the way you think though, you grew close to him in the romantic sense, he grew close to you in the friendly sense.

You've always been with him, when he'd go hang out with the boys, you'd come as well and nobody ever minded. After all, you weren't a girl. You were part of them.

You actually hated it.

You hated that everyone including Neteyam thought of you as one of the boys.

You weren't.

You didn't care if everyone thought that, what really mattered was Neteyam. And it angered you how he didn't think of you as an actual girl.

You were sick of it, and you noticed things about yourself. You always wore something over your tops, you never really did anything to make yourself look better.

So you changed that, you made new tops, tops that really focused on your features, you braided your hair differently, and changed the way you spoke, you began speaking in a soft and feminine voice.

The only reason you really wore a long top was because of the one time you didn't, where Neteyam made fun of you and the fact that you looked like a girl, and you stopped wearing it so he can stop

But this time, you didn't care, you didn't even know why he used it as an insult.

When you first left your home looking the way you did after you changed yourself, you didn't notice the amount of eyes that were set on you.

Neteyam was with his friends, talking and waiting for you before they all went quiet

"Damn" One of them said before you approached them

"Hey guys" You smiled, talking in a soft voice

"Why do you sound like that" Neteyam said

"You look like an actual girl" Another guy said

"Uh, thanks?" You said and they all laughed, Neteyam didn't though since there wasn't anything funny

Were they laughing to please you or something?

"Uh, y/n, wanna walk with me to school?" Al'oktan asked

"Alright" You said, and everyone stared as you walked with him, Neteyam just glared and went quiet

It started becoming like this all the time, boys would talk to you, walk you home, try to impress you. But what bothered Neteyam the most was what you were doing.

Why the sudden change? You were fine the way you were before.

You completely changed, and it annoyed him.

What really snapped him, was when he was with his friends

"Neteyam" Al'oktan said

"What" Neteyam answered

"Do you think anyone asked to court y/n?"

Neteyam froze, was he going to court you?

The other boys answered for Neteyam, and he just made up some excuse and left them.

He went to find you and rolled his eyes when he saw you with another guy

"y/n" He said, and they both turned to him, "we need to talk"

"Um, okay...I'll see you later" You told the guy, he just glared at Neteyam and walked away

It was quiet for some time, he just kept staring at you

"What's going on?" You asked

"What are you doing." He said

"What?" You responded, confused

"Why are you acting like this"

"Like what, exactly?" You nervously chuckled

"Like this, y/n!" He yelled, "The weird change in voice, the revealing outfits, the hair, everything!"

You rolled your eyes at him, "What do you expect, Neteyam. I'm a girl" You said and were about to walk away until he pulled you back

"Don't you think I know that?" he asked

"No actually, you don't. You always see me as one of the guys and it's annoying! I'm not, Neteyam! I'm not some guy friend you can make fun of. I actually have feelings yknow" You yelled

"You know I don't actually make fun of you"

"I don't care. Why are you so mad anyway!" you rolled your eyes again

"Because I don't like it!"

"Don't like what!"

"Everything! I don't like seeing others with what's mine." He yelled and you went quiet, he held your hand, "You are what's mine."

"What are you saying?" You said

He gently held your face, "I'm saying what you're hearing, y/n." He whispered, slowly leaning in and pressing his lips against yours

You slowly pushed him away, "Why now, Neteyam?"

"Because I planned on telling you before, but you suddenly changed and all these boys were after you and I didn't like it." He said

"Why not? I think it's sweet" You teased

"Very funny" He rolled his eyes

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, he melted into the kiss, your hands roamed around his hair, his slid down to your top, gently untying it

"I'll show you what's really funny, y/n" He whispered as his hands roamed down your body

man were you in for a night.

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

IX. I'm the well they're gonna drag you down.

parts: previously / next plot: and they were rooommates. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, mentions of blood and stitches and drugs and alcohol, this chapter is fluffier because reader deserves a break, reader and bruce discussing their one-night stands, bruce thinks he's funny but he just can't hide how much he likes you okay, jealousy thy name is "disturbed". words: 6.9k. a/n: shoutout to allnurses.com contributing to at least 8 hours of research on how medications are stored in hospitals for one scene. any nurses in chat please do not stone me, I took creative liberties. also, in case there is any confusion, this chapter and the vignette take place all in (mostly) the same day.

The car gets about halfway down the street before Bruce observes out loud, "Something's bothering you."

You're clean and changed, but your hands are shoved between your thighs as you try to control their shake. Knowing what you know now, you have no reason to keep this from him. He is, by all means, the one person you should tell.

But you struggle to work up the courage without a mask looking back at you. The character of Batman you'd created in your head clashes violently with the character of Bruce. You'd written your own Jekyll and Hyde and tripped yourself up in the final act when it turned out they were one and the same, "You have a lot on your plate right now."

"So do you."

You resist the urge to grit your teeth, "It's about Judith."

Bruce thinks for a moment, "The old lady who doesn't like me."

"The very same. I... wasn't there for her last night, when I should have been. She was mugged on her way home."

Bruce doesn't make a big show of a reaction, though you notice he sits straighter, taking a break from gazing out of the window to glance at you every once in a while, "Is she badly hurt?"

"It could've been worse but... she's more shaken up than she wants me to believe."

"And her family?"

"Murdered." Bruce's car rolls by a street corner where a young mother wrangles her child back from the crosswalk, "I tried to convince her to have one of the deacons from church ride home with her from now on but she wouldn't listen. She doesn't want to be babied." Her stubbornness isn't at all unfamiliar.

"Did she see who did it?"

"She said some guys at the liquor store down the way. They hang out there every night," your eyes trail from the window down to the floor before finding Bruce's face. His profile is sharp and clean, the dark neck of his sweater stops just before the hair at his nape begins to cluster. Your eyes follow the bridge of his nose and it mirrors Batman's profile, a mix of pointed and blunt edges, "There's a... an heirloom in her purse. A lighter. She keeps it with her all the time. Her husband had it on him when he... well, he had an awful habit. She'd really like it back."

Bruce turns his head to you and you steel yourself. In the bright early morning, he is annoyingly resplendent. In the unfair way that all pretty people tended to be. It feels wrong to be asking him this. This is a stranger. You're begging for help from a stranger. You force down the sickness rising in your belly, "Please, will you-"

"I'll take care of it." He answers and it is final. He seemed to have made up his mind before you'd even asked.

The resolve in him is enough to slow your shake to nothing. There's a part of you that still doesn't quite believe what you'd seen last night, and so the certainty of Judith's well-being does not deluge you. It trickles down, dripping over your eyelashes, sprinkling off your fingertips.

You let yourself get caught up in his eyes the way you used to. You let the familiarity of them ground you and, though not with a sweeping acceptance, sigh in relief.

It's a small win in the grand scheme of steaming hot bullshit going on in your life.

You’ve taken things from General for Bruce’s sake before. Bandages and needles and disinfectants. This, however… this was a schedule II drug that could land you in prison if you got caught with it. And you were going to walk out of here with it like you were none the wiser.

A hand on your elbow forces you to slow down, drawing you back to your companion’s side. You don’t need to hear it so he doesn’t say it, but you’re embarrassed anyway. How Bruce maintains himself is enviable. “You’re a good actor.” Bruce peeks at you as you guide him through the first floor, “The thing with Gordon. You took it on the chin like a champ. You turned into a whole new person.”

“I avoid implicating myself when I can.”

“The party too. You diffused the tension, like, perfectly.”

Bruce hovers beside you as you call the elevator, a few patients and nurses lingering further behind. You can feel him probing your words for your natural line of thinking, “Couldn’t pull one over on you, though.”

No, you think, you just creeped me out while every bat-shaped clue flew right under my nose.

The elevator door slides open and the two of you squeeze into the back as the rest file in. You find yourself in a corner, braced against Bruce’s side as his hand reaches around your back to hold the railing. One of the nurses catches sight of him and swoons, the other trying (and failing) to look uninterested.

“Coming to see the new wing?” The swooning nurse asks, turning around to grin at Bruce. “Sounds like it’s coming along great. They make lots of helpful noise all day long.”

Bruce laughs good-naturedly, “Hopefully it’ll make up for all the trouble once it’s finished.”

The “uninterested” nurse nods, eyes frantically flashing from Bruce’s eyes to the floor and back over and over, “For sure! It’s really great you give back to General like this. Your dad would be proud.”

His face has no distinct reaction to it, nothing immediately telling that that comment hit too close to home. He smiles as he always does and thanks them as he always should do, and as they get off on the second floor, it’s just you two and an old man waiting for the next stop.

Bruce, to you, had long lived in his father’s shadow. The great Thomas Wayne who, despite his briefly smeared reputation, had been the face of the Wayne family for you. Even the some-twenty years after his passing had yet to shake that image from your brain.

It was his father’s legacy he was tending to here. All of the good and ugly that came with it. You couldn’t imagine how many times he’d heard his father would be proud. Did it comfort him? Frustrate him? Did he do this to make his father proud, or because it was expected of him?

Before the flood, you’d heard gossip about Wayne Enterprises going under, the reclusive in the tower giving no sign if he was alive or dead. Knowing what you know now, you wonder how much he truly wants to be a Wayne… with all the baggage that comes with it.

He’s wound tight. You can feel him against you.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you find his hand on the railing beside you and cover It with your own. He’s shocked, judging by the way he jolts under your touch for a second. You think you’ve overstepped but when you go to apologize, he is already staring wide-eyed at you. Like when you’d caught him on the stairs.

The tension is still there, and his face has fallen in its warmth and friendliness. His hand had only partially slipped out from underneath yours, but as the seconds pass you feel it rest once more, not bothering to shake you away any further.

You both force yourselves to stare ahead until the elevator dings to let you out, but through the reflection on the door, Bruce is still looking at you.

You break first, distracting you both this time as you walk out, “You kept hitting me with your knee.”

Bruce, in a daze, asks, “What?”

“At the party. While me and Roberts were arguing, you’d nudge me with your knee like it was an accident.”

Bruce seems to remember who he is and where you are, because he quickly gets back to himself, “Guess I’m not that good of an actor.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I knew where the conversation was going. I could feel you thinking.”

You remembered holding your breath as the mayor prepared herself for confrontation back then, “And the second time?”

“I was trying not to laugh.”

You flush. You’d been so impassioned that night, defending your hero who, unbeknownst to you at the time, was hiding a snicker behind his glass. You feared you’d be remembering a lot of moments like that over the next few days.

As soon as you both get into your office, you shut the door behind you, “I need you to wait here for me.” Bruce’s face tightens, “Don’t… argue. They keep extra vials of the antivenom down in the ER. I can grab one from the med room, but I can’t have you following me down there. It’s off limits for anyone without ID, let alone a patient and a donor.”

Bruce doesn’t look comfortable. Since last night, you hadn’t been anywhere Bruce or your police detail couldn’t follow. You hadn’t even been allowed to enter your apartment until the latter had deemed the place safe. A med room not much bigger than your office—locked behind an ID scanner—posed less of a threat than your two-bedroom ten minutes away.

But it was two stories down, and anything could happen in the time you were away from Bruce.

You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to think up some plan that allowed him to remain by your side. You have to restrain yourself from feeling… flattered.

Flattery turns to bewilderment as Bruce reaches into his pocket and drops something into your hand. It’s a gadget the size of an AirPods case, shining in the light of the fluorescents. It looked perfectly unassuming and hid—lightweight as it was—a marvel of expensive technology. You could tell just by looking at it. “The hell is this?”

“It’s an EMP generator. Put it in your pocket and I can disable any communications within your vicinity, including cameras.”

“Okay, no. This is a hospital, and I’d be going into the ER with this thing. That’s too dangerous.”

Bruce looks offended. You can practically hear him say “You don’t think I’ve thought of that?” with his eyes. He silently holds his phone up to your face and you shouldn’t be as shocked as you are that it’s got live camera feed of the entire hospital. “I can control the radius. You said you trust me. So trust me.”

You swallow back your retort. You did say you were going to trust him on this. Whether or not it would be your doom had yet to be seen. You nod once, dropping the device in your pocket. “I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes. Fifteen at the most.”

Bruce’s lips purse together. He still doesn’t look settled with letting you go alone, but he has very little room to argue, “Ten minutes.”

You don’t waste time. You skip the elevator for the emergency stairwell, taking two steps at a time until you’re back on the first floor and walking to the ER. The med room at the very end of the hall would—if you were lucky—be as empty as the waiting room. All you needed to do was get in, grab what you needed and very quickly get the hell out of there. Without raising suspicion. You can feel the phantom pull of Bruce’s hand on your arm, begging you to slow down before you draw unwanted attention.

You round the corner to the med room, scan your ID, and head in.

The two nurses waiting inside greet you, analyzing you curiously, “Hey doc, need something?”

Words rattle in your brain like a d20 on a deception roll. You pray for something good, “I just wanted to grab some meds for my patient.”

One nurse sits at a computer, head titled in confusion, “Did you put in a prescription? You could’ve sent a nurse to grab it for you.”

Your eye catches the camera on the ceiling, its dark glass glinting at you, mocking you. A scrying glass recording your every move. And Bruce on the other side of it, hopefully buying you an alibi. “It’s a… special case. My patient needs it soon, so I thought I’d speed up the process and grab it myself.” You force a lightness into your tone, trying your best to appear apologetic and not at all suspicious.

The nurse hums. Then, she jabs the pen she’d holding over her shoulder, “Cart’s over there. Help yourself.”

You maneuver through the shelves separating either half of the room, keeping your head straight and eyes from wandering.

Your biggest hurdle was at the back of the room.

It’s a clunky cabinet on wheels with a monitor on top and an ID scanner on the side. In one of its many drawers, your golden ticket awaited, but these things kept logs of who checked out what, and if someone were to go through them later and find out you’d stolen a highly addictive drug without prescription…

You swallow. The generator in your pocket suddenly hangs heavy against your thigh. You glance at your phone for the time and note that four minutes have passed. You need to move quickly.

You approach the cart, fingers twitching at your sides, and right as you step up to the monitor, it flickers and goes dark. You give the power button a push for good measure but nothing happens.

Well, not nothing. You hear the cart drawers all click at once, like they’d unlocked by themselves. Tentatively, you try the top drawer and it slides out without issue. Glancing behind you, you check to make sure no nurses have wandered over, but you are the only one on this side of the room.

Your fingers drift down to the right drawer next and that one slips open too—by the grace of some god—and there you see it. It has an alien glow to it, a more subdued blue to its adversary’s green. The top of the tray holding the vials pops open with just as much ease as the drawer, allowing you to sneak one into your pocket. You shut the drawers, slowly backing away from the cart, but the monitor does not turn back on.

“What? This thing too?” You’re startled when the nurse from before suddenly jogs up from behind you, grumbling under her breath as she smacks the monitor.

You rush to cover, “It just went kaput on me.”

“Yeah, so did mine.” She maneuvers around the shelves and back to her desk where you see the other nurse at the desk scratching his head. Their monitor is glitching, having some gory digital stroke, “Here. You can sign out what you take for now and I’ll bother IT about this.”

You write down “Ibuprofen” and your name next to it, “Never seen that happen before.”

“Yeah. Thing froze up on me a minute ago. Guessing around the same time this thing died on you.”

Your stomach is still nervously fluttering, but you do feel a little smug. “Weird.” You hand her back the clipboard and go to grab a bottle out of a different drawer. “Good luck.”

You try not to sprint past the nurses as they fuss with the computer. You’re out and back upstairs before your ten minutes are up.

Bruce is sat leisurely on your couch, no doubt watching you scurry into the office on his phone. He looks from the pill bottle in your hand and back to you.

You toss the bottle into his lap, plopping down on the couch beside him. He frowns at the label. “For you,” you poke his injured leg and his eyes follow your every movement, “you’re favoring the other leg today.”

He can’t bring himself to deny that, even if the look he gives you from beneath his eyelashes says otherwise. You flash the antivenom at him as a peace offering. “How’d I look?”

His gaze flutters slowly from the vial to you before he shows you his phone. The screen is a recording of the medication room. It shows you greeting the nurses, walking up to the med cart, and then… nothing. Black screen for forty-five seconds. When it flickers back on, you're signing the clipboard and walking away. Your body sags into the couch with relief.

“You did good.” Bruce praises you.

“I thought I was going to go into cardiac arrest.”

“There are worse places to do it.” You look at him and he’s smiling just a little. You’re aware, though, that he’s aware of the toll this has taken on you. He takes the vial out of your hands and puts it in his own pocket, holding his hand out to you. “We should get going.”

Bruce follows dutifully behind you as you lead him back down to the first floor. You feel much better than when you'd arrived, but your heart stutters each time a security guard passes you by. Years ago, stealing and getting away with it was second nature to you. You were also arrogant back then, uncaring of what happened to you. How quickly the tides had changed.

You feel Bruce nudge you with his arm. He isn't looking at you, but you know what he's trying to tell you: you've got a few more hallways to turn down before the exit. You just have to-

Someone calls your name.

You spin around, nerves electrified, only to find Em running to catch up with you, "What are you doing back at work already? Is your arm okay?"

The adrenaline rush had done wonders for your pain tolerance. You didn't even think about it until she brought it up, "I'm fine, it's fine. It's-" You go to rush out some sort of explanation but at that moment, Bruce turns around.

You can see the moment of impact across Em's face as soon as she realizes who you're with, her back straightening and hand pressing down flyaways. In an instant, she has forgotten all about you. For better or for worse. She rubs her palm on her leg before holding it out to shake his hand, "Mr. Wayne! Hi! I'm surprised to see you here." Her eyes are twinkling, "Everything alright?"

"Just some leg pain, nothing painkiller can't fix." He flashes the pill bottle for good measure. You're honestly impressed he admitted to being in pain at all, "It's good to see you again, Dr. Madison."

Em's face droops into a frown, "Well, you look fantastic, but you've got a mirror," she pats your arm, "and I'm sure you're being well taken care of."

"Only by the best."

You smile (borderline pleadingly), preparing to dismiss yourselves while you still have your wits about you, but then Em asks Bruce a question and, to your surprise, Bruce is happy to entertain her.

It strikes you that you had landed in your situation with no prior interest in who Bruce was, and it shows in how you barely keep up with the topic of conversation.

It's like watching a tennis match between the two. The topic in Em's court, then Bruce's, then Em's, back and forth without issue. No awkward pauses or uncomfortable looks. She recalls details about him out of thin air, your knowledge in comparison merely fringes of what Em knew.

The longer it goes on, the more it weighs on you that aside from the strange man who'd circled around you like a frightened kitten, you really didn't know anything about Bruce.

You knew Batman. You felt you knew him. Even when his identity was still a secret, you had felt comfortable with him. Vulnerable, even. He'd let you touch him in your home, fixing him up and helping you with this mess and... outside of that, what did you really know?

You feel an odd twist in your chest.

Em's voice floats back in, disrupting your retrospection, "I've always wanted to go to Italy. You must get so sick of these places after having been so many times."

"They still have their magic," Bruce grins, "but I don't like being far from home."

"Really? You could go anywhere in the world and you'd still miss Gotham?" Em's tone is teasing, but curious. Something flickers in her eyes as if she'd just remembered something.

Bruce takes in the hallway, chest swelling with pride, "Lots of things to miss about it."

"Name one."

Bruce's eyes cut to the side as he thinks, "The noise."

"You can get noise anywhere. LA, Chicago-"

"It's special here."

"No, try again."

His smile turns sheepish, "The rain."

"Now you're lying. Come on, pretty boy. I know you've got something. Penthouse, nightlife- heck, I'd even understand the freaks and clowns giving everyone PTSD."

Bruce exhales, purses his lips. His eyes flit around the white walls, "Okay. I'd miss you."

What the hell?

You straighten up. The absurdity (blatant sweet-talk) of the line shouldn't work—seriously, it wouldn't work on you—but Em goes pink in the cheeks. A strand of dark hair falls from her bun and frames her smile just so, "Well," she snorts, "aren't you just a flirt?"

To your utter dismay, they are both eating this up. "You light up the room, Dr. Madison. Your patients are very lucky."

"My patients are usually seven and way more interested in the candy I bring them."

"Candy?" Bruce finally looks at you, all humor and charm, "I never get candy. I just get yelled at."

Something in you is disturbed when Em grabs onto Bruce's arm, hanging off him as she pouts at you, "Oh! You're heartless!"

"Very much so." Bruce is somber.

"I don't-" Your voice comes out strained, a little too defensive right off the bat, "I don't yell." But you'd gotten close, and you got closer everyday, "But if I did, you'd deserve it."

Bruce is amused. You watch as he pretends to cower into Em, even as he dwarfs her in size. They start joking back and forth, more teases at your expense, and you notice that the persona he puts on around others is practically nonexistent here. You'd watched it dissolve within minutes. It's refreshing, you realize, that he seems to really be enjoying himself right now.

You catch Bruce insisting that he ought to get going, sharing pleasantries and desires to visit once more. Em looks genuinely saddened to let him go. The second Bruce's back turns, Em reaches out and squeezes your hand, whispering, "Please tell me he's single."

You fluster. You imagine yourself in the car ride back to the tower asking Bruce what he thinks about Em, offering to exchange numbers between them, and you're disturbed again.

Twenty-four hours ago, you would've been warning her to run for the hills. Twenty-four hours ago, he was only Bruce Wayne. Now he was Batman and all that came with it and, well... once upon a time, you would've wanted nothing more than for Bruce Wayne to sweep Em off her feet. Batman had always been more your style.

Then, you realize, you don't actually know the answer to her question.

Em looks expectant. You shrug. She exaggerates her disappointment but releases you all the same, "Keep me posted."

"I'm comparing the samples from the crime scene to the antivenom. I should have something in a few hours." Bruce taps the antivenom vial, watching the remaining blue liquid slosh against the glass, before handing it off to Alfred.

You're mesmerized by this backyard (or, more aptly put, garage) chemistry lab. Beakers and flasks spread out on the long table as you watch from a stool a few feet away, "How'd you get so good at this?"

"College," after a few seconds of silence from you, he adds on begrudgingly, "I started messing around with stuff down here when I was 13."

"You had all this when you were 13?"

"Some of it, whatever I could get my hands on. I liked to see how things worked."

You have a unique opportunity to learn about Bruce here, so you take it with both hands, "You majored in chem, then."

"And biology, and physics."

Your eyes blow wide. "You had three majors?"

"I bounced from one to another, sometimes double majored if I liked the professors. I followed my interests and they took me everywhere," Bruce picks up the venom test tube, little drops of green pooling at the bottom of the glass, "I've enrolled in more universities than I have degrees."

Your eye twitches, just a little annoyed, "Must've been nice going wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted."

Bruce senses your tone of voice. He peers at you from the side, elbows resting on the table, "I spent a lot of time away from home. It must've been enough because I don't miss it."

"You said the same thing to Em earlier." You recall.

"I didn't think about it as much while I was gone, but when I came home for good... I just couldn't imagine myself leaving like that again."

"He barely liked boarding school," Alfred chimes in from the other side of the room, lazily reading a book at Bruce's desk. Boarding school was posh. You imagined little Bruce in a school uniform like the British boys in movies, "I should bring out the scrapbooks once we have a moment."

Bruce sets the test tube back on its rack with a bit of aggression, "Thank you, Alfred. You can go now."

Alfred chortles. He skims one more page of his book and then shoves it under his arm on the way back up. The elevator clinks and rattles up the tower until it stops some sixty stories up.

It's quiet now. You sort of appreciate the silence- the relative silence. There is the steady drip, drip, drip coming from here and there in the cave. The whirring of the machines, the humming of the lights, the very faint sound of a news anchor forecasting snowy skies this weekend. Bruce's breathing.

It's harder to hear unless you focus on it. His mountainous build hunched over the table—staring into the venom as it stares back—rises and falls in slow rhythm. You watch him being and it captivates you. For the umpteenth time since last night, you are struck with the reminder that this was Batman. In all his broody glory, an arm's length away from you, about a hundred feet under the city.

It's funny; you paid so little attention to the man before, and now you wanted to take him apart and examine his terrible insides. You have accidentally become obsessed with the man.

"I want to take you to Blackgate."

"Sorry?"

"Lucien is there," the name makes your blood run cold, "he was with the Vipers the longest. He could answer a few things for us."

You do your best not to immediately say no. Not because you think he'll force you, but because you know—somehow—that he won't, "What about Detective Gordon? Shouldn't that be his job?"

"I think he'll talk to you." Bruce turns slowly until his back is pressed against the desk, arms crossed over his chest and pulling his shirt completely taut. "He knows you."

You hadn't seen Lucien since the night Alex died. For once, you're kind of grateful Bruce can read you. He turns fully toward you, "I can go alone."

"You just said you think he'll talk to me."

"I can make him talk." His head droops a little to meet your eyes, expression impossibly understanding. You have no doubt he can. Your throat feels like it's on the verge of closing up. Somehow, sending Bruce alone to handle him felt worse.

"But you think I can..." You have to pause to force in a breath, feeling yourself go lightheaded, "You think I can get more out of him." Bruce doesn't respond to that. He's still watching you like you might start stress-sobbing. "Okay."

"You sure?"

"Mm."

Bruce calls your name. You'd been tracing the lines of his arms with your eyes to distract yourself, not processing how much closer he'd gotten until you feel his breath against your eyelashes.

His arms are uncrossed now, one hand pressing into the table beside you, the other hovering by his hip. His fingers twitch. Does he want to touch you? You were about to go three for three with the crying in his arms thing.

You force yourself off the stool and the speed at which you stand gives Bruce very little time to react. Your chest bumps against him, but you're already slipping behind him, "Lemme see your stitches," you rasp, hand ghosting over his shoulder, "need to... redress them, probably."

Bruce tries looking over his shoulder at you but you hide behind him and after a moment, he relents. His shoulders drop in defeat. You watch him drag your stool into the light and sit.

The dismal mood did you a favor. He looked like he'd be submissive today.

You're halfway through clearing away his dried blood when you ask, "Are you single?"

Bruce's shoulder jolts just the tiniest bit, almost driving your finger into the stitch. "What?"

"Em asked," you quickly explain, "and I realized I didn't know."

You don't know exactly what he's thinking, but his answer is as straightforward as you could hope for, "Yes."

"Oh."

"You sound surprised."

"I mean... I sort of assumed..." What did you assume, exactly? You couldn't see him with a long term partner, definitely not like this, but the idea that there wasn't anybody didn't sit right with you, "no flings? Situationships, even?"

"Why? Is Dr. Madison interested?"

Your jaw clenches. You force the muscles in your face to relax, "I just don't want any secret lovers of yours adding me to their shitlist if I go through with your plan. I can't stress how little I want to fake-fight over you right now."

Bruce huffs. You finish cleaning around his wound when he pipes up again, "I had something... someone. It didn't last."

"Oh. Are you... tender about it?"

"Not anymore. I don't have time for that kind of thing anyway."

He says it like it doesn't bother him, but in the way someone might brush off a scrape on the knee or a paper cut. Like it stung, but you had to be a big boy about it. The pain would go away eventually.

You press new gauze over the stitches, taping it down as gently as you could, "I assumed someone like you would have a whole lot of someones, a revolving door even," your eyes flit over his other bruises and healed cuts, "I never made time for relationships either. I was kind of just going through the motions."

"No one interested you?" Bruce rolls his shoulders once you peel away from him. He doesn't look at you when he asks that.

"Just... childish crushes here and there. Sometimes I'd let someone take me home..." Your voice catches in your throat for a moment. You recall a stamped down memory, one of you standing blindfolded in your apartment imagining the Batman with his mouth on your throat. That wasn't very long ago. Your breath shudders as you fit Bruce into the memory instead. You don't... know how to feel about it.

"Never back to yours? And here I thought Judith was just hard on me." You belatedly register Bruce standing, rolling his shirt up his arms before pulling the neck over his hair. His question hangs lightheartedly.

Your shoulders sag, "You're not gonna believe me if I tell you I was paranoid about letting one-night stands into my home."

"Why? 'Cause you let me in?"

The back of your neck grows hot. "What about you? You ever bring yours back to the cave?"

After he's done tucking his shirt into his pants, Bruce shakes his head at you, "No. Just you."

That was the second time he'd said that to you. You were starting to feel special.

You step out of the shower and you think, almost as soon as your foot touches heated floors, that you really despise Bruce Wayne.

The towels are warm too, waiting for you as you preen yourself in the mirror, a clean you staring back. You kept your toiletries bag on the bathroom counter, afraid to unpack anything as you rustled around for deodorant. It was massive and quiet. The water pressure alone had you swearing at the marble lining of the shower.

Bruce eventually lured you downstairs with the promise of making dinner. Alfred was skeptical, but had backed off and allowed Bruce full range of the kitchen, still possessed by his book next to the fire.

He'd asked you what you had the stomach for. Eventually he was copying something out of a celebrity recipe book with you beside him.

You argued that he hadn't really made you dinner given that you had helped him do half of everything, but it was his ingredients and it was his kitchen and the food tasted good so you didn't argue long.

After Alfred offered his stamp of approval, he'd retired for the night and left you and Bruce in the kitchen to clean up. Bruce had left the pots and pans to you when you proved too nervous to handle the porcelain, "Alfred won't kill you if it breaks."

"Alfred would kill me for less, I think."

Bruce gives a short laugh, drying off the last pot. He's pouring you a glass of the wine you'd opened last night when you slide his little gadget across the counter, "I forgot to give that back to you." You swirl your glass, admiring the color as Bruce packs away the leftovers. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself with Em earlier."

"I was. Your friend is funny."

"I... also noticed something you said. When she asked you what you would miss about Gotham, you mentioned the noise and the rain. Would you really miss all that?"

Bruce glances at you, popping a top onto a glass bowl, "Of course. It's part of what makes the city."

Your eyes narrow, searching for the lie, but there isn't one. He's being sincere. "Is that why you became Batman? Because you love this city that much?"

You can feel the mood getting doused with ice water. It forces you upright in your chair, makes your hand clench around the stem of your glass. Anyone with eyes could tell you'd just touched a nerve.

But he answers you, intense as it comes out, "I hated it." The loathing is a mere shell of what it used to be, you can tell, "I hated what it took from me." His eyes cast down to the countertop. "At first, I was aimless. Everyone was worried about the future of the company but Alfred and I were just trying to make it through the day. Over the years, I boiled up with this... restlessness. I still didn’t know where I was going but I was full of something for once. I studied, I traveled, I learned from all manner of teacher. And when I came home, I was... determined."

His words sit heavily on you. You can see flecks of that restlessness in his eyes, the slight tremble of his hands as he rests them against the countertop. "Why a bat?" You whisper.

"They're what I feared the most."

Past tense. "Feared?"

"I got over it. I won't let them close enough to bite, but..." The humor in his voice breaks the intensity of his expression.

You mull that over, "You became what you feared to strike fear."

"Not anymore," his head shakes, "fear is a tool, but... there's enough fear in this city. I wasn't making a change, I was making it worse."

You remembered the first time you'd ever heard of the Batman. Back then, he was just "Vengeance". In the grand scheme of fucked up things this city had to offer, someone running around dressed as a bat didn't register as abnormal. Another Tuesday, maybe. You awaited what they'd say about his crimes: a mugger beaten and strung up on the street, a gang felled and dropped at the GCPD's door. You remembered something stirring in you when he put away the Joker.

"I remember when you became a hero. Like really, to everyone. When you took shape… they were flying in people. I was rushing in patients while you stood on top of the Garden and pulled people out of the flood. I hadn’t felt hope like that since… yeah."

Your admission moves something in Bruce. His eyes find yours, "I was just doing what you'd been doing for years."

"But I never left that hospital. You transcend boroughs, the gangs, everything. I used to think you couldn’t possibly be one guy. I still can’t believe it. How are you not dead on your feet by now?" Bruce smiles knowingly at you and you feel yourself flush, "Besides that. You’ve been doing this for longer than I've been around to patch you up."

"That would be Alfred."

"You should tell him, you know. That you appreciate him. I think he'd like to hear how much he means to you more often." Bruce's eyes soften. He doesn't debate you. "Anyway. How's that sedative going?"

"I'll take another look before I leave tonight."

Oh, yeah. This guy is Batman.

You don't know when next you'll get this chance, "Can I ask a favor? Can I... watch you put it on?" Bruce wobbles to the side, genuinely confused. "The suit?"

He examines you, mouth almost curling up into a shocked smile. He hadn't expected you to ask that, that's for sure. "All of it?"

You grip your glass so hard you think it might shatter, "No." And then, when he has the audacity to snicker, "Asshole."

He stays true to your request.

You watch with your back pressed up against the wall. His under suit hangs undone at his hips while he leans over his desk, digging his fingers into a can of black paint. He uses the reflection of his computer screen to smear it over his eyelids and under his eyelashes until the white skin beneath disappears.

Next is zipping up the under suit. You barely resist rushing over to hold his bandage steady as the suit catches on it, but he manages to get it up and over without pulling it off. Then come the plates of armor. Each piece clips into place, clinging to his waist and chest and arms. You've seen it up close enough times to know the quality of it, a wonder how he'd gotten his hands on that kind of stuff until now.

You don't ask him to, but when it's time to put his cowl on, he turns sideways so you can see.

His gloved hand combs through his hair, pushing back the longer strands so he could fit the cowl over it.

It's kind of embarrassing how it takes your breath away. Bruce had quite literally transformed before your eyes, and now there was no denying it.

Bruce stands still as your eyes bore into him.

After a few seconds of admiring every piece of the suit, your eyes flit up to his face. He's not looking at you, almost shy. Apart from Alfred and, perhaps, his someone, Bruce has probably never put on the suit in front of anyone else. Is it weird you missed seeing him shy? "It fits perfectly." Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Of course it does. You know it's dumb to say. Bruce doesn't say that, though.

He waits a beat before turning away from you, his cape sending a breeze of cool air up against your legs. His car awaits on the train tracks, headlights beaming into the near endless darkness as he approaches and you follow.

The car thrums eagerly with life at the push of a button, sending vibrations through the ground, all the way up to the ceiling where you hear a sudden flurry of wings and chirping. Bowing your head close to Bruce, you watch about a hundred bats scurry about above you, disturbed by the sudden rumble of the engine. Bruce holds his cape over your shoulder, though none of the bats fly low enough to concern him. "They don't freak you out a little bit?"

"They haven't bothered me."

"Well, when you dress like them I guess they get confused."

"I'll be back before sunrise," Bruce promises, "and I'll look into Judith for you. Maybe you should... call first."

You're tickled by the discomfort he's so desperately trying to hide, "Scared of a little old lady?"

He pointedly ignores you. You step back as he throws open the door and settles into his car, but before he can pull off into the darkness, you shout his name to get his attention over the roaring engine, "Hey! Be safe."

Bruce looks at you and... you don't know what he's thinking, only that the muscles in his jaw relax a bit. Was he used to that? Did Alfred often stand on the cold, empty train tracks before every patrol and wish him luck on another night of beating criminals to a pulp? Was he used to the worrying? Annoyed by it, even?

He doesn't say anything. The car leaves in a spray of dust and you hide your face in your shirt to shield yourself from it. By the time the dust settles, you can only see two red lights blurring into the distance.

[mccn-bcys]

JUST A TOUCH OF YOUR HAND pt. 3

pairing: moonboys x fem!reader

summary: jake finally makes his debut to ask the reader a question the boys have been dying to ask. reader gives her answer and jake is just a cutie.

warning: jake (he's a warning, yes), just some nice fluff for ya.

authors note: okay ik a lot of you have been wanting this chapter for a long time (sorry about the long wait, I had a lot going on the past couple of months). this chapter isn't as long as the others but it just felt right to have this one be short and sweet. the next chapter, maybe we'll see some more of marc 😏🤭

word count: 1,028

and then there was jake. it was funny actually. he'd been dreaming of meeting his soulmate since he had gotten the stain. and he had so badly wanted to meet you when you first brushed against their hand on the sidewalk that day.

god how he wanted to meet you. and yet he couldn't make himself front. even when steven or marc would hand it over to him, especially when you'd plan days to meet and spend with him, he just couldn't front.

none of them understood it. it's like he'd freeze up. it was eating him up. he was pretty sure he was in love with you – actually he was positive he was in love with you. and he'd never even actually met you!

you, being the amazing person you were, were so patient with him. whenever you'd see the boys on the days you were going to meet jake, and find out he wasn't fronting, you'd have marc or steven tell him you didn't mind waiting.

"you boys are all worth waiting for," you'd say, making them melt.

and jake would try more to front around you and it just wouldn't happen. he couldn't figure out why. although on a deeper level, he knew why.

he supposed he wasn't much different than marc. as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, he also knew his reputation. it was said reputation that caused him to romanticize the thought of a soulmate. he never really thought himself capable of being loved. if marc thought his hands were stained with blood, jake was swimming in it.

if he was realistic, he couldn't imagine why you would love him. he was ruthless, he could be cold, he had a tendency to shut people out if they got too close.

But he wanted you to get too close. He wanted to able to talk to you, learn about you and not through the other two. He wanted to hold you and comfort you, and be held and be comforted by you.

but like marc, he'd been scared. scared you'd run for it, if you knew him. everyone else did.

and yet here you were: sitting across the table, smiling so wide, eyes so patient, like he's your favorite person in the world. if you kept going, he's sure he would probably cry.

"jake?" you called cautiously, breaking him from his thoughts. his eyes snap to yours, smiling at you. he thinks: 'they're right...the way she says our names is addicting.'

"sí, amor?" he answers softly, but you seem to brighten up even more.

"yes," you simply said.

his eyebrows furrow. had he asked a question?

yes, you did, you bloody idiot!

holy shit...she actually said yes...

"yes?" he repeated, since his alters weren't helping him at all.

you laughed at that, at him seemingly forgetting his own question. he loved that sound.

"you asked me to move in," you reminded him patiently.

"and you said yes?"

"I did."

"but you don't know me," he tries to reason, because how on earth would you have agreed to move in with the mess of these three men?

"I know that i love marc and steven, and if I love them, i already love you too," were you trying to kill him?

"why?"

that threw you for a loop. you hadn't been expecting it. why did you love this man you've never actually met?

"well...for starters, we're soulmates-"

"that doesn't mean that I'm not a terrible person." steven had warned you of this. that he might try to talk of himself like this.

"but you're not-"

"you don't know that."

"except that I do."

"how could you possibly know that?"

"because I just do-"

"amor, that's not an answ-"

"I know because you're a weirdo who wears gloves while he drives a limo. You send a bouquet of my favorite flowers every time you can't front when we planned. I know because I can feel you follow me home every night after work when you're patrolling, making sure I get home safe. I know because marc's told me that you can't pass a cat without petting it. I know because I *know.* You're a *good man,* jake," you say, looking at him completely serious.

and for the first time in a long time, every voice in his head is silent. they're at a loss for words. there's this strange feeling in jake's heart and he's never felt it before.

what is that, he thinks.

that's love, jake.

it feels like a heart attack.

yeah...it's great, innit?

you watch him closely while he's silent, watching to see if you've overstepped somehow. to try and see what he's feeling. amd when he stands, you're worried he's leaving. that he's going to change his mind about wanting you to move in.

but he quickly crosses over to you and he cups your face, gentle as he is urgent, and leans down and kisses you, deeply, passionately. and for a moment, you're confused. but you quickly kiss him back, matching his energy, his passion. after a moment, he pulls away, both of you panting lightly, breathless from the kiss. he presses his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes so intensely you swear he can see your soul.

"te amo jodidamente mucho," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you say back softly, meaning every word.

jake has feel that twist in his heart again, but he knows what it is now. it's love. and it's strange and foreign but...he thinks he likes it. he feels like he's never smiled so wide in his life. he presses one more soft kiss to your lips before moving back to his seat at the table.

"so...tell me about these gloves you bought me," he grins.

and you start talking about them, explaining every detail about them and why you thought he'd like them. he swears he's never smiled so dopey in his life, talking to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. he'd finally fronted and he'll be damned if he doesn't take advantage of every single second he gets with you.

______________________________________________________________

tag list: @gardenof-venus @fandomtrash465 @ichigodjarin @bladeshades @pinkpenwuin @sm3rqld-o @simplecol18 @sleepyamaya @wordacadabra @sm8th0p @firesidefandoms @missmarmaladeth @stevenandmarcslove @avengersinitiative2012 @cleothegoldfish @lunaleah @winxschester @shadowmoonnight @undermoonlightwalk @ahookedheroespureheart @phan3145 @local-mr-frog @theconsultingdoctor10 @luvpedropascal @violet-19999 @an0th3rsss @iamcoolguy @disregardedplant @fruitymoonbeams-blog @xcraftystormx @marisferasiop @bensolosbluesaber @rellasnowheenim @quethekillerqueen @jake-g-lockley @whydidigetalibralartsdegree @moonknightwifey @spacecowboyhotch @howaboutcastiel @princessloveweird @minigirl87 @midgardian-witch @aleat0ri0 @leahnicole1219 @acciocriativity @missxlause @yeah3459 @groovycass @kotonei-molyneux

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[strawberrynightmere]

Hi! Can I make a request? I simply loved the fanfic you made of Andrew and Ashley as cats! I think it would be very comical to live with these two as cats, can I ask you for a sequel? Like with Andrew suffering from love for the reader and also with his yandere tendencies to keep every man away from the reader?

Ask and you shall receive.

Also, I appreciate that there are people interested my work

Bad Cats!!! [Part 2]

Warning ⚠️ : yandere tendencies and such, reader has bad memory i guess, I don't know how to put up warnings, so read at your own risk

A/n: Sorry, it wasn't exactly what you expected it to be.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Finishing the project that your incompetent boss pushed onto you, press save and close your work laptop, and you stretch to relive your aching muscles.

"Meow!" Oops. You accidentally woke up Andrew, but he didn't jump off your lap like any normal cat. He just continued cuddling up to you. Andrew was not a normal cat, personality-wise. Where Ashley was the classic feral street cat that turned into those stereotypical house cats.

Lately, you've been having a reoccurring dream about being in an embrace of a guy with black hair and green eyes whispering something that you can't really remember. Something about him felt familiar, but you couldn't really figure out what.

When you told Nina about this, the only thing she said was; "He sounds hot. Maybe that's your soulmate." Why you still confide in her is a whole other mystery. However, when you told Julia about your reoccurring dream, she said, "It's weird that you remember it in detail." And that's true, you don't remember most of your dreams, but when you do, it's always blurry.

Well, whatever. you have chores to do, and you can't procrastinate. Carefully taking Andrew off of your lap and got to work. Funny enough, neither Ashley nor Andrew reacted to the vacuum. They just left the room.

Those two are such strange cats.

Once you finished the chores, you were about to make dinner, but it seemed that you were missing a few ingredients, which was weird because you were sure there was enough from yesterday.

Oh, well. It's time to buy more. Before you head out the door, you announce to the cats that you'll be out for a bit. You lock the door and leave to the supermarket.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Now, it was just Andrew and Ashley left there. Neither of them changed from their cat forms, but you could see the look Andrew was giving Ashley.

"What?" She asked, there was no answer. "If she didn't want anyone to eat it, she should've put a sign or something."

"She already thinks we're strange. She doesn't need to know that one of us turns human just to raid her fridge while she's sleeping." Andrew decided to break his judgmental silence, and that was pretty hypocritical of him considering what he dose.

Ashley rolled her eyes at her brother. She didn't find this to be a big deal. Besides, you weren't suspicious of anything. But it seemed that that wasn't the reason for his grumpy attitude.

And Ashley noticed that.

"Listen, if you're still hung up on the fact that she might find someone and metaphorically ride into the sunset with them. Why don't you just... "Tie her down to you."...?" Andrew continued to stare at her blankly.

That was kind of irritating her.

"God! Do I have to spell it out for you? Get. Her. Pregnant!"

Andrew was shocked, to say the least.

Ashley decides to defend her answer. "I mean, if you don't want those hussies taking her, that is."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

That was a stupid idea, Andrew shook his head and left. Ashley rolled her eyes again at his "dramatic" behavior.

What kind of situation would he be put in to make that kind of decision?

It was a crazy idea.

He's better than that.

Is he, though?

A/n: I could've done better than that, but I hope you enjoyed it.

[lainiespicewrites]

I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?

Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3

Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)

Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.

Please don't share without crediting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of  “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse. 

“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke. 

“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again. 

“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand. 

“No,” I said again. “I do know.” 

“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they  can. not after it’s been so long. 

“There’s no evidence.” I said. 

“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”

“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. 

“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does. 

“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when  I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually. 

“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office.  I  could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home.  Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?

“Okay,” was all I managed to say. 

“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder. 

“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,”  his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded. 

“You’re sure?” She asked. 

“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded. 

“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.”  I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again. 

“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I  pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him. 

“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile. 

I stood up from my spot next to the desk.  Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a 

seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me. 

“You’re reporting  an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded. 

“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze  me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open. 

“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk. 

“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching. 

“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out. 

“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit. 

“And what’s his name?” He asked me. 

“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening. 

“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay  there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”

 I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid  I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes. 

“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.

“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”

“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued. 

“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,

“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.”  Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground. 

“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with  all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”

“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me. 

“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”

“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me. 

“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any 

reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do. 

“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options. 

“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked. 

“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him. 

“I do,” I spoke finally. 

“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped. 

“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly. 

“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”

“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again. 

“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.” 

“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly. 

“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile. 

“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again. 

“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded. 

“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled. 

“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you,” 

“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded. 

He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building. 

“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station. 

“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”

“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth. 

“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered. 

“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door. 

“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me. 

“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath. 

“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.”  He stated. 

“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said. 

“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”

“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive. 

It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house. 

“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.” 

“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him. 

I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started  to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name. 

“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.

“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder. 

“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.”  He said.  Pulling me closer to him. 

“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly. 

“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said. 

“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment. 

“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”

“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax. 

“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled. 

“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly. 

“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically. 

“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated. 

“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip. 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow. 

“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!

Tag list: @summersong69 @carrie80reads @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007 @alwayzmsbehavn @toooldforobsessions@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @henryownsme @identity2212

Part 2:

[sweetestpopcorn]

Hello!! I know that aside from Daemon/Rhaenyra, you are a fan of Baelon/Alyssa. I just wanted to ask, what is your opinion on Viserra, or on the whole Viserra seducing Baelon after Alyssa’s death? Do you think Baelon might have been able to save Viserra from her fate if he had agreed to marry her (even if he didn’t love her)? What is your opinion on this pair?

Hi there :)

Yes, after Daemyra Baelon and Alyssa are definitely my favourite Targaryen couple.

About the rest of your ask, I don't think Viserra fans will like my answer, but I don't quite care for Viserra. I have talked about it in the past that I see Saera and Viserra as very shallow characters with almost nothing to them. They were written as mean girls and that's about it, besides being Targaryens and physically very attractive, I don't actually see any redeeming qualities in them.

Saera at least you could argue was sort of funny, in a heartless, sociopathic Cersei kind of way, and I did admire how she later on in life wanted nothing to do with Westeros or the Iron Throne saying she had her own kingdom was a cool moment. But regardless she was cruel, unnecessarily so (e.g., Tom the Turnip anyone?), and worse with someone much weaker than her which also makes her a sort of coward. Like I said she had many sociopathic traits, and her behaviour itself is very congruent with a sociopathic personality type.

Viserra is a bit better in that regard in the sense that she was not needlessly cruel to anyone weaker than her for fun, even if she poked fun at young men who lusted after her, sometimes in quite dangerous ways (e.g., when she dares them to put their heads inside a dragon's mouth, I think the prize was her V card if memory serves right). But like Saera is mean and cold for the sake of being mean and cold, Viserra is ambitious and cold for the sake of being ambitious and cold.

We are both shown and told she wanted power and to be queen and F feelings and all that, but we are never really given a proper reason as to why. I would guess that being child #10 in a very large family would make you starved for attention, likely importance as well, since her only selling point in that family was being the most beautiful of the sisters. It was (VERY) unlikely she would ever be queen, so maybe because of that it became an ambition of hers? There was also something arrogant about her because of her looks, thinking that that would be enough to just give her what she wanted without having to rely on anything else. In that sense she has no depth, what you see is pretty much what you get and neither is very good or particularly compelling.

So, no, I wouldn't want her to marry Baelon, nor for Baelon to be interested in her. In fact, I loved that he wasn't and that after she spoke in such a nasty way about the sister she thought herself so physically superior too that Baelon gave Viserra a cold hard dose of reality of he's Baelon Targaryen, not a failed Baelon like Tywin Lannister.

Sure that some people find love again in life, and I am all for it. But some people aren't like that, and I found a lot of beauty in that aspect of Baelon's character, of how devoted he remained to the memory of his lady with the mismatched eyes. I would have hated for that to be ruined, especially in the name of such an ambitious and empty character like Viserra. If he was to marry her, whatever the reason, he would not be Baelon because that was a central aspect to his character.

All this aside I did feel bad about how Viserra was treated by Alysanne, almost like she was the final boss Alysanne had to defeat. I think this is a great example at times of George's incongruence with how he writers characters in F&B. Pretty much their end is decided so he just does whatever he has to to get there, at times with little regard with what he previously established. Are we supposed to believe that the same Alysanne who still loved and wanted to forgive Saera, even defended her, would be so cold and mean to Viserra? Sorry, I don't find it the least bit believable. Like show us on the doll where Viserra touched you Alysanne. Regardless of her not deserving this or her cruel fate, I still don't really care about Viserra nor think she had any redeeming qualities.

And that is my take.

Thank you for coming to my Tumblr Ted Talk!

Much love to you <3

[inconmess]

So the whole fight, I am trying to type my way through it to process stuff, may have gotten some things wrong, may go back and edit some stuff but...

Spoilers so I am putting this under the cut cuz I am likely to go into detail and make it a long post. I don't know

It started with Laudna thinking about Orym having the blade strapped on his back. Not her thinking it is cursed.

Delilah escalates that thought of thinking into it possibly being a cursed sword, and hey, I won't discount the fact that Laudna may have taken it without Delilah's influence but Delilah egging on her definitely make it more certain for Laudna to take it.

And look at this, she could've just woken up Orym and talked about her concerns but I think deep inside, she knew that he wouldn't agree for her to absorb the blade either way. Hence the stealthy try to take it.

She takes her precautions, fails and she knows Orym is a soldier. She knows what he can do. Which is also the reason she cast Darkness while she tried to take it. So she also shouldn't be surprised if he attacks her in the Darkness because he can't see and had just been hurt.

Even if Delilah's push, I can understand the argument she made. They don't know if the blade is cursed or sentient. They don't know how the blade could affect him. The Blade has killed party members and Laudna is traumatised by it. Understandable why she doesn't want to see it or see anyone using it.

She could just ask Orym to put it away, talked it out with him. If it was just about him wielding it. Or carrying it in the party's line of sight. But this wasn't about that. This was about Laudna grabbing it's power to empower Delilah. And she knows what the party thinks about her. Her stealthy action makes sense, Orym's reaction makes sense.

But when the rest of them awoke and the darkness dropped, they see Orym attacking Laudna, seemingly for no reason. With Otohan's blade. And Laudna tries to play into it. She talks about how she sensed that the sword is cursed and was trying to save Orym from being corrupted and it would've made sense. If not for the fact that she could've just talked about it.

Look, Orym tells them why he took the sword, again, makes sense with his backstory. But like he did now, he would've agreed to put it down, get it checked if it were really cursed. He is not probably going to endanger himself if the others are concerned about it.

But he (and the others later on) repeatedly asks Laudna on why she needs it and she evades it. He points out how she hurt him to take it and she says it was accidental. It was. But she still doesn't give solid answers on why she needs it. Her reasoning changes quite a bit and not really makes sense.

And then she turns it on Orym. "I gave you a bruise accidentally but you gave me gashes." "It was on instinct." "Even I did it on instinct." No Laudna, Orym did it on instinct because you covered the place in Darkness. You cast the spell intentionally and hurt Orym, not on instinct. Accident, maybe. But definitely not on instinct. Lady, what do you expect a soldier who has been hurt and woke up in magical darkness to do apart from attack?

Ashton asking Laudna to apologise and willing to take her side was nice. And technically, everything could've been resolved with a talk. But she tries to escape, opens the windows and doors repeatedly as the talks are going on, as Orym does lay bare on why he needs the blade.

Which is another interesting talk. "Why do I need the help of some dark force" he asks, pointedly looking at her. And Laudna points out her gashes. I mean, ma'am, if you are going to fault Orym for taking another sword, which admittedly killed a lot of people, let me remind you that you were trying to take said sword to feed another dark force in you.

In the tension of the moment though, I find it funny Orym did mention about his deal but they don't get to unpack it at the moment because there is more serious shit going on here.

Anyway. I need both Orym and Laudna to stop feeling they don't have enough power to handle everything but at the same time they are partially right because most of the fights they have been in, they have either come close to losing someone or lost someone so I get it but still HAVE A TALK! I love how Laudna just resolves to act than talk but at the same time frustrated by it *sighs*

And then Fearne identifies it. Chetney Grim Psychometries it. And they find no sentience there. Cursed, maybe? But not sentient. And Laudna insists on swallowing it's power any way. I mean, like Imogen asked, it may be cursed then why do you want to take it? And the way she repeatedly asks "With the harness, right?"

I know I am going about the whole sequence of events back and forth but... As I said, I am trying to process through the fight, not pass judgement.

Chet saying it is Orym's sword and Laudna is not having it. Dorian coming in with him being done with objects having power over them is interesting because he just got out of a PVP, reminiscing about the crown and how silly it had been, talking about how it is about the person who wields it and not the item right after what went down with Opal...

And then Chet also brings up how much loss Orym has gone through with that particular sword and Laudna mentions not to talk about loss to her. Justifiably so tbh.

The thing here is, I agree, Laudna has lost a lot in her life. She lost her whole life in Whitestone, she was tortured, has died and lost her family and everything, started over with her killer in her head, guiding and giving her power, died again and now lost FCG.

But Orym, similarly, lost his life back in Zephrah. Maybe not his whole family but it was still his father and husband, lost his own life and then FCG. Laudna and Orym have lost people and their lives and have had to rebuild it in different ways. Period. Not comparable.

Before anyone says anything, I am not putting trauma in a scale or comparing here because everyone can react to trauma and have it hit them differently. But Orym has had the longest beef with Otohan out of any of them. Laudna can have her beef with Delilah for killing her but leans into her for power. So in a sense, Orym does have the edge here because while everyone does have a history with the blade, Orym has it for the longest.

But he still gives it to Laudna anyway when she insists for it. "Why do you care so much?" "Does anyone want to tell her why do I care so much?" Because Orym is also kinda fed up of repeating the same thing over and over again. He doesn't want revenge. He wants to protect. He is not giving up Seedling in exchange for the blade that killed his family but rather stick it up to Ludinus and rather end the history of the blade with him hopefully. And he repeats it over and over again and she is just stuck on sucking in the sword.

Until Chetney gives her the scream needle. And she runs off. And sucks the dagger in. Leaving a party split and woken in the middle of the night.

I saw some posts about how Laudna should face some consequences. And she should. This was kinda unprovoked in a sense. And maybe, Maybe Orym should've consulted the party because in terms of spoils, Ishta can be claimed as FCG's as he was the one who victored over Otohan but as I said, it could've been talked out and people didn't need to attack out of the start? There was a chance for the group as a whole to ask Orym about the decision to take the sword, talking about it. But they didn't.

Long things short, Orym has some valid points. Laudna has some valid points. Laudna went about things the wrong way if she wanted them to trust her. And the rest of the party let most things slide easily.

But Just such a juicy conflict. Now, I may I interpreted some things wrong, missed something here and there and I welcome any and all discussion in the rbs/comments. Thank you for reading through this thought process till the end.

Rasnak signing off :3

And for now, the stuff Laudna has sucked in to power Delilah:

The Crystal

Hunger of the Shadows Bor'Dor

Hunger of the Shadows the Willmaster

Scream Needle

And I think she does suck the power of something else but I forget

Just to end it.. FUCK YOU DELILAH!

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Have you seen this very long post on why Stark was completely right in CW? I understand you enjoy picking these types of metas apart

tumblr.com/protect-anthony-edward-stark/654070608511041536/as-some-people-seem-to-not-understand-or?source=share

Wow, I hadn't seen it and it's uh... well, it's really something. 🤦‍♀️ That's a long-ass post and this is a long-ass answer, so more after the cut.

Posts like this one really prove that the Accords propaganda worked on a lot of fans, the word "safety" is uttered a few times in there as if those documents had any intention of keeping people "safe" from the Avengers or the enhanced. At this point I wonder, do these fans consider the enhanced as "people" at all?

It is quite scary that some are so quick to give up on freedom in order to gain in security, especially when these exact words are something Zola says in TWS. That guy was Hydra, folks.

Then, all that talk about Stark feeling guilty and blaming himself for everything... I do believe there might be some truth to that but that's just the thing, feeling guilty is free. If the result of all his actions is him going back to his luxury home and never having to pay for all his mistakes while those around him have to either go on the run as fugitives or serve time in jail or have to spend months in house arrest... what can I say, I'm gonna have a problem with that.

He felt responsible for that American kid's death, yes. What about Pietro though? What about the other Sokovians? There's a young woman in the team who lost her brother and her home that day... did he ever care about that?

It's interesting that OP mentions Steve having to go outside the law to find Bucky, but of course they don't mention he's forced to do that because the American government, the same that tried to force the team to sign the Accords, had sent the CIA to kill an innocent man on sight despite having no actual evidence of a crime. And regarding Stark offering "medical care" to Bucky in the US... why is Stark even offering that in the first place? What authority does he have to do that? He's not an Avenger anymore, he's a civilian, he had no power to suggest such a thing, he was talking out of his ass.

Also, suggesting to someone that they sign a document and only after that those papers can be modified is a scam. Anyone who has ever signed a contract knows that, it's not difficult to understand.

But there's something that I have read so many times and I still don't understand: "At this moment Steve was close to signing". No, he wasn't? He was listening to Stark trying to understand the situation, but I never saw him thinking about signing. What these stans misread is that Steve was NEVER against accountability, if anything he's the one who was completely game with that. It's Stark the one trying to direct the blame for his actions elsewhere. So of course Steve was going to listen if presented with a chance to get some accountability... the problem is he understood full well the Accords were NOT that.

Regarding Wanda, it's kind of infuriating to read that she was locked up in a luxurious facility so why is she complaining. Well, maybe because that house arrest was illegal? Because it was trumping her civil rights? Because Stark had no authority to do such a thing? Also, it's funny that OP says Stark had Vision with her because he knew she liked him -- he chose Vision because he's the most powerful one.

And I don't see how Stark could possibly protect her from the blame she might receive when she was being blamed for Lagos way before Ross showed up with the Accords. That incident is the reason she was locked up despite the fact that she saved everyone on that street. We're okay with locking up the heroes for a crime committed by the villains? I sure as hell I'm not.

Regarding Peter, OP says Stark took time to get to know him before "recruiting" him. Yeah, he took time to realize Peter was ideologically on Steve's side at which point he deliberately chose to withhold the reason why they were fighting, he lied to Peter and took him out of the country without informing his legal guardian. But hey, he was a 15-year-old kid, it's not problematic at all. "He wanted to keep him safe". You know how you keep that kid safe? At his own home and not in a fight in a German airport.

OP: "It's better to stay together as a team than go outside the law". Nope. Not at all. Not like this. Not when signing those Accords take the civil rights of a good portion of the population and half the team. What does "stay together as a team" even mean? At this point you gotta ask yourself why do the Avengers exist at all?

Then OP claims Stark "tried to avoid the fight" in the airport, which is kinda funny considering he refused to listen to Steve and he's the one who started the fight, and then this gem: "Team Cap goes against the law, ignores 117 countries, and tears the team apart."

Yeah... and why? Steve tells them about Zemo but does Stark and his team care? Nope. And at that point we all thought he was going to use those Winter Soldiers to his advantage, so yeah they were forced to go outside the law.

As an aside, all this "go outside the law" is said so many times, it's kinda weird. Are we back to the thought that if something is made law that means it's morally right? Surely we know better than that, yes?

Then, the Raft. So Stark "didn't know" they would be kept in a prison such as that but the same guy who hacked the helicarrier not two minutes after arriving in it in The Avengers doesn't have a damn second to get his ex-teammates out of the Raft? He didn't tell Steve about it either, how long were Clint, Sam, Wanda and Scott there? He cared oh so much according to OP... well, he sure as hell didn't show it.

But of course, we reach the point where OP says Steve knew it had been Bucky who killed the Starks. I think there's enough meta on this site to prove that's a lie and Steve had no way of knowing it had been Bucky, but I want to point out this scene OP includes in their post:

They claim this is proof Steve knows, but what I see here is Steve trying to put the focus on himself and his so-called "lies" in order to take the spotlight off of Bucky and have Stark focus on him. Because they know each other and at that point maybe Steve thinks he wouldn't attack him - and he knows in which state Bucky is. He's trying to protect him, this is not an admission of guilt.

Oh and, OP claims Steve and Bucky attack Stark? Nope, he's the one who attacks first. But OP is right, Stark does return home after he almost had an innocent man killed. No consequences at all, as per freaking usual.

Look, I won't deny Stark had a lot of issues and I think IM3 did a pretty good job with that. But the thing with this guy is... he's not well. He's supposed to be a morally grey character who makes mistakes and is amazingly flawed and the only way his character can develop and evolve and improve is if everyone around him calls him out on his shit, if he pays for his actions and he understands what he has done wrong. But the MCU right post-AoU decided no one would ever do that and he would be framed forever as 100% right, so we ended up with a character who never learned a damn thing, continued making the same mistakes over and over again, had the gall to call others out while having his own actions swept under the rug and he got a heroic death scene in EG and a funeral and tributes in other movies whereas other characters, mostly Natasha, were completely put aside like they were nothing.

That kind of treatment gets him so damn close to villain territory... which is a shame because he shouldn't be there. But alas... Phases 1-3 were the Stark Cinematic Universe, unfortunately.

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 8

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 21 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Her eyes instantly rolled when she opened her door and he was coming out, too. She had been trying to forget what happened between them a few days back, and she probably would've volunteered to get a lobotomy if someone knocked at her door with the offer. She enjoyed it, she surely did while they were at it, and even at some point she thought that her neighbor could be a good pick to spend a random night every once in a long while. Until he poke. Jungkook and his annoying tongue always acted right after she tried to walk in his shoes.

He wasn't even that attractive... if it weren't for his strong arm daubed in ink, or the piercings on his lip that made his pouty lips stand out even more, or those wide shoulders where she'd gladly sink her nails on... But that cocky smirk made the pout disappear, and the mock on his voice distracted her from the sin his body was.

Thankfully.

—Yo, 3A. How was your weekend? Jumpy? —he asked, poking his hands in his pants after closing the door.

That word didn't even have the meaning he was trying to give it. There was no point in arguing back with him. The best thing she could do was to simply ignore him.

—No answer? Okay —he sighed—. I've been thinking...

Her eyes went blank when she realized he was the type not to get the hint of when to shut the fuck up. Jungkook just went on, trying to get a reaction from you.

After Carly threw that curse on him, he didn't really have to worry about seeing his hookups a second after sleeping with them, they were always gone by the morning after and he hadn't seen either of them. But there was Y/n, a person he'd have to keep seeing as long as he lived there, and a person that he wouldn't mind keeping in bed with him for a second round if he was offered the chance.

He was attracted, but there was also in the bickering they had going on in the previous week that made him feel... entertained? His neighbor wasn't only dangerous in the sheets, she was also funny and witty.

And he liked that.

—Maybe... One of those days that you need a hand... Instead of using yours, you can use mine.

Jungkook was forced to quickly stop from advancing, turning down every wrong idea he had to hop on the lift with her. Her tongue clicked, while her index lifted with a dangerous warning as she pointed at him.

—Go back to your side.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at that comment. He thought that after what happened the other night, Y/n would just get over that dumb idea. But he seemingly thought wrong.

—You talked about things. But if I step on your side, will you also do what you want with me?

—Yes, and that includes tying up your tongue and making you eat it —she clicked on the button to call the lift—. Or put you in that arcade box and bury you four meters underground.

—Wait, that's not... —he stopped, thinking of her words.

—What was I even thinking when I fucked with you? —she mumbled, massaging her temple.

—That's an easy one! You were thinking of my —his eyebrows raised, playfully, teasing her— big attractiveness.

—Average —she commented, twisting her lips.

At that comment, Jungkook chuckled, trying to hide the fact that he was indeed offended by her words. Before he was able to land a hand at the side of the lift door, her eyes were already throwing him a warning glance so he would pose that palm on the side that wasn't marked by the tape on the floor.

—Over the average.

—Below average.

Dedicating him one last smile, she stepped inside the lift, clicking on the ground floor button to set an ending for that conversation.

Or so she tried to, before she found an out of breath Jungkook, supporting himself on the wall as he tried to hide his shaky breathing.

—Why don't you just admit you're dying to repeat what happened?

—I'm not the one almost coughing my lungs out —she mentioned, disinterested.

—Because you're keeping it all inside —Jungkook tilted his head, walking in her direction—. You'll feel lighter once you start being honest.

—I'll feel lighter once I get rid of you —before she continued speaking, Y/n made a short pause—. Listen carefully, because I want you to get this as clear as possible: getting in bed with you was the biggest of the mistakes I could've ever made. And never, in my life, I will ever sleep with you again. Are we clear on that?

Jungkook just puckered his lips, adopting a leant back pose as he looked down at her.

—We'll see.

—We're seeing now. It won't happen —she cut him off—. And if I ever end up in the same bed as you again, it'll probably be to choke you with a pillow. Don't ever talk to me again unless it's for something serious —she rolled her eyes.

Jungkook sighed, trying to extend the conversation and the time they were together in the same place, for some odd reason.

—Do you want a ride to your workplace?

—And let you know where I work? —Y/n shook her head— I have enough with you knowing where I live.

Just like that Jungkook saw her go, following the gentle moves of her body as she rushed on the other side of the street to make her way to work. He got captivated in an instant, hooked by the way her hips swayed one way and the other, getting a short flashback of how they looked when they moved on top of him.

He shook his head, trying to move on from that image and concentrate back on anything else that wasn't her. It was a matter of time for Y/n to crawl back to him, and surrender to him the same way he did a few nights back. There was no point in insisting and making a fool of himself when he could have some fun somewhere else in the meantime.

It was all probably due to the new temptation of living in front of someone he had slept with. Before, they usually disappeared the morning after, but Y/n would stay there.

It was interesting to see how that'd play out.

Hanging his helmet by his elbow, Jungkook started dragging his emerald Kawasaki Z650 RS. That motorbike was probably one of his most precious relics, acquired with half of the money he was paid for one of his wins in all of those fights. And he sighed while he remembered the good times, when boxing was actually a thing, and it didn't all depend on the grafts some people did by rigging some of the fights he was in.

Usually he never woke up so early. Hardly ever he had the chance to meet up with Y/n by chance. But that day he'd receive the visit of one of his sponsors, which meant he'd probably get to give some upgrades to the gym that was almost in ruins.

That was the reminder of why he did what he did.

Those fights were a headache in a lot of different senses, but the amount of income, not only monetary, he received was always backed up for it. Last time one of the sponsors was happy with him, he managed to change all of the boxing bags to ones with better quality, and add some machines to actually give it the gym vibes he was looking for when he opened it in the first place.

He parked his motorbike in the narrow alley next to his gym, and that also had a door that connected directly to the office, and that he never used -basically because of the door being stuck.

Jimin huffed when he saw his friend trying to fix his hair, moving his fingers through his locks before his bangs fell over his forehead to cover it.

—What took you so long? —the brunet reproached, walking over to him to snatch the helmet away— Today it was the only day you needed to be here early, yet you are thirty minutes late.

—He isn't here, isn't he? —Jungkook answered, relaxed— Then what are you even talking about? —he huffed at the silence his friend used to answer.

—He could've come by now —Jimin sighed—. You know that dude makes me uncomfortable, and you know how to deal with him.

Jungkook walked past his friend, throwing his head back as he sighed. It wasn't like he knew how to deal with him, but he knew how to talk to him, while Jimin only stared from afar and waited for the inspection to be over.

But it wasn't like he expected him to do more. Jimin was only there as a guide into the gym, and a point of information for the training and schedules.

Nothing else.

And he was already doing more than what he was paid to do.

—I'm sorry —he sighed—. Something came up at the last minute.

Y/n.

Y/n came up at the last minute.

He knew he had to be there at the establishment before the opening time, but he still found himself peeking through the peephole to manage to come out at the same time as her and seeing her. Delusional enough to think what happened two days back would open a door for him instead of closing it on his noses.

—I don't even know why I even try. You always have an excuse for everything —Jimin rolled his eyes.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard, making the typing louder with every tap of her fingers on the latest keys before she was peeking her eyes over the monitor before they fell over her finished article:

"Underground Brawls: Uncovering Illegal Fights in South Shore"

And right below, there was a good quality pic of the two fighters of the night. The blond boy was easily recognizable, while Jungkook's face looked a bit blurry -while the other half was covered by the thick boxing glove. She could've picked many of the other screenshots she made out of the video she managed to film, but something in her kept insisting that the shot was the right one.

Although maybe it wasn't a bad idea to blast her neighbor's face in the middle of the page, linking him to a crime that could take him out of her way.

Her lips twisted with disappointment, thinking there was something off with the article itself. It felt empty. It didn't trap her, and she was sure the chief editor would have an even worse opinion on it.

Y/n got up from her seat after her boss called her into his office, knowing a little bit too well that meant his opinion would be so harsh that it was bad to even say it out loud in front of everyone. She closed the door behind her, assuring herself that she'd keep her own shame trapped in those four walls.

—Is that the article you've been working on? —he lifted one of his thick eyebrows.

—Yeah. I think it's ready to be released on the special of Monday.

—It's not a bad one, but I don't think it's enough.

She wasn't able to know what exactly he meant, as her eyes tried to dig into his blue gaze that kept looking lazily over his screen.

—Police showed up, and somebody also took my phone away before I could take better pictures.

—I don't mean that —he stopped her—. The article is good, the exclusive is great, the content is brilliant, but I think it'd be better to get a bit deeper.

Deeper? She almost ended up either arrested or with her hand cut off by the gangsters who were behind those fights. She knew what the consequences were when someone crossed their boundaries and put their territories at risk, although she had only seen them on things that weren't as important. She couldn't imagine what the consequences would be if they had caught her that night.

—I don't think I understand.

—Try to give something that people haven't seen before. Your article seems more like the script of one of those news anchors. Try to give it a more personal touch.

—A more personal touch?

—Yeah, like trying to do some covert work, or interview one of the fighters... —he shrugged—. Or, if you want to go on with this type of article, try to get more information than just what you've seen. Use as much time as you need, and come back to me when you think you're ready.

—But... the release date? I thought you were in a rush for this.

—Let's leave it aside, alright? Work on it, while you also work on other things. Take your time.

A more personal touch... If she gave it a more personal touch, she'd probably be censored and arrested after writing all the barbarism that went through her head. The owners of the club used the people that were desperate for money, or a career, to to represent their clubs, all while just seeing it all unfold from afar, or by receiving the results of those same fights when they received the envelope with all the betted money. Meanwhile, the high-ups looked at them from their comfortable places as if they were watching a TV show.

It was disgusting.

She threw the pencil over her desk as she approached it, before letting her body fall on the office chair.

At first, she hoped that the first article would sum up chaos in that community, slowly for all of them to crumble and expose themselves, so she could write one last article with the faces of all those involved on the website.

She didn't think the editor would like the article so much to turn it into a full coverage, so now she had to think in a way to make it personal, but not too personal to spill all of her feelings on it.

The location in her phone marked right in front of where she was standing: the shabby and filthy establishment that looked like it'd collapse at any point.

That was the place Jack sent to her.

Apparently a friend of his source trained there a few times per week, while said source kept the club they trained in to themselves so they wouldn't end up in trouble.

Y/n couldn't blame him, and it wasn't like she could see much difference. Seen one, probably seen them all.

From outside she could only spot three people inside the gym, through the wide windows. One of them was training on the boxing bags, while the other two were lying on the ground with two ropes in between them. She could just assume they were probably getting some rest after one of the sets.

—Good morning —she greeted, after stepping inside—. Is any of you the owner of this place?

The two boys whose backs were lying on the ground lifted their heads, looking at her over their knees before they sat to answer her.

—He's busy right now —the tanned one answered.

—So he isn't here? —her frown furrowed as she looked around.

—He is, but he's dealing with something —the dry punches on the boxing bag stopped so she could be able to hear his reply—. Did you book an appointment to his love nest? —her jaw twisted by the cockiness in his tone and the sided smile he dedicated to the other two boys.

When he finally turned to her and stopped bending his arms, she managed to see some small red marks that turned darker on the center, on his inner elbow. Her eyes moved over him quite fast, scanning his features: he was slim, but maybe a bit too much to be a boxer aiming to compete on those fights and thinking he could win, and those dark circles under his eyes kind of gave her a hint of what he could be spending they money of those fights on even if it was left destroyed.

She had seen all that before.

—No, but I bet a look into your bag could send you to one big dude's love nest in jail. How does that sound?

His mocking smile disappeared almost instantly, dedicating one of the younger boys a quick look to motion him somewhere. Right after he demanded him to stand up, and pointed somewhere in that place, the boy disappeared.

Jungkook motioned Peter to leave where he came from, waving his hand in the air as soon as he saw his head peeking through the door to his office. Although either he was blatantly ignoring him, or the few knocks out in the past fight killed some of his brain cells, because his head kept popping inside every few seconds.

—There's someone asking for you —the young boy whispered, when Jungkook interrupted the tall man in a suit in the middle of his office.

—Tell them I'm busy.

—We did, but she's still outside.

Jungkook sighed, wondering who the hell could be in such a hurry to see him at that exact moment, right when he was in the middle of getting a few improvements for his business.

—Tell her to get lost then?

—I think she's a cop.

Could be it was her imponent aura, or how she didn't double down when Rob tried to intimidate her. Or how she stepped inside like she was looking for something more than just aerobic lessons.

His blood froze at the mere idea of it, looking at Peter with wide eyes before he quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure the man inside didn't hear a single thing he said. Elijah was a serious person in general, but he was completely strict over anything related to his image. The last thing he needed was dealing with a cop right in that moment. He couldn't scare Elijah away.

—I'll be right back —Jungkook announced.

One look was demanding him to stay, Jimin was trying to convince him that whatever was happening outside wasn't more important than what was going on in that ofice. But Jungkook left either way.

To no one's surprise.

As he walked through the corridor, his head just tried to get to the way to kick that person away from his gym. There was no way they could be there for neither of those fights. Last time he received one of those visits was five years back, and he managed to get away from it quite easily.

His walk slowed down when he recognized that brown long thin coat, shaking his head as he tried to take her out of his head. Not only was she constantly in his head while he was at home, now he was also seeing her in a cop?

—You have to be kidding me —Y/n whispered.

As soon as she saw the thin boy looking over her shoulder, along with some steps sounding at her back, she knew she got what she went there for. Although the smallest glimpse of victory disappeared when she saw her neighbor walking next to the other boy that welcomed her earlier.

—Nice to see you, too —Jungkook tilted his head—. I know you can't stop thinking about me, and whatnot. But can you not tell people you're a cop to have an excuse to see me?

—I didn't say I was a cop —she frowned.

Her eyes instantly moved to the short-haired guy, who lowered his gaze and walked past her to go back to the place he was sitting on before she interrupted.

—Also I'm not looking for you, I'm looking for the owner of this hole.

Jungkook felt tempted to tell her he was indeed the owner of said hole, but he knew she'd only throw one of her bothersome phrases, like "It makes sense that you are".

—Why are you looking for him, Hops?

—That's something I will tell him only —she crossed her arms, not falling into his provocations—. Can you get lost somewhere and stop wasting my time?

—Princess, I'm already telling you you don't need to pull up any excuses...

—Don't you ever shut up? —her eyes rolled before she turned to him— I'm here to talk about the fight you were in a few weeks ago, not about your dick and your size complex.

His face drastically changed, although she didn't know if it was because of the way she teased him back for what happened that damned night. His fingers enclosed around her elbow, motioning her to walk out of the gym

—You have to leave.

—What? —her heels stepped on the ground as hard as she was able to, trying to make sure he would have a hard time moving her body away.

—You have to leave.

—I'll leave if I want to —her voice cracked by the strength fight they had going on.

All that push and pull ended before Jungkook was able to move her body one step away from where they were, by a sedated deep voice behind him.

—Any problem, Jeon?

—No, nothing.

Jungkook stepped closer to her, trying to cover her up with his body. The few seconds it'd take Elijah to get bored of that pathetic situation before he stepped back into the office.

—It didn't seem like nothing.

With two taps on his shoulder, the man with slicked black hair was warning him that he'd probably push him, and that it was better for him not to fight it back as much as she was.

—Your face looks familiar —Elijah murmured when he finally was able to see Y/n properly.

Of course she was familiar. He was at the fight, and he was the one who sent one of his men in her direction so she'd stop recording after being caught. He didn't want to know what Y/n's response could be to that, his head was working faster than her tongue, turning his body towards Elijah to speak again.

—She's my girlfriend.

Elijah's lips puckered, lifting both of his eyebrows in surprise as he completely ignored the confused look on Y/n's face after Jungkook came up with that.

—You probably remember her because she was in one of the fights —he mentioned, stepping closer to her—. The girl whose phone you broke?

The oldest man's face finally expressed the click on his brain after Jungkook shared that last bit of information, finally getting an idea of who she was.

—Technically, it wasn't me. But yeah.

There were several possible answers going through Y/n's head at that moment. But she chose to be careful, rather than making use of her sharp tongue.

—She was filming me, she loves watching me fight —he started to explain, wrapping his arm around her shoulders—. She's one big fan, I'm almost like a god to her, righ...Ah!

His body squirmed when she managed to pinch his side with two of his fingers, grasping a slim bit of skin on the area of his ribs.

—I think you're confusing what you feel about yourself with what I feel about you... love —she smiled at him.

Elijah looked disinterested as soon as the people in front of him seemed to start having one of those couple bickerings that only made him cringe.

—Right... I already talked with Jimin, but I'll send you more details through email. I gotta leave now, but I hope to see you soon —he dedicated those last words to Y/n, making her gulp thick.

Both of them stayed hugged to each other, until he disappeared from one of the windows. Almost as she was relieved from a heavy lift, she pushed Jungkook away, slapping his shoulder.

—What's wrong with you? Wh... Hey! —she called him out.

Jungkook dragged her away from any public area, getting her to walk to the office. It wasn't like that assured them more privacy, but at least gave him the idea of it.

The way he stepped inside the room with her made Jimin get up from his chair and look at the both of them, trying to understand what was going on before either of them could try to give him an explanation that would either be a lie or would make no sense.

—Should I leave you two alone? —he asked.

—No —Jungkook rushed to answer.

—Yes —Y/n said at the same time.

—Alright, then.

Jimin sighed, picking up his phone before he made his way to the door, closing it up right after he left the small office.

—Do you know who that man was? —Jungkook answered the question she asked before he dragged her there— I was just saving your careless ass. Normal people say "Thank you".

—Normal people also warn the other person before pulling that dumb act that no one with working brain cells would buy —she replied back—. "Hey, I have a dangerous gangster in my office. Come back in thirty minutes'' it'd have been great, actually. But obviously your dick and your ego were more important, that didn't click some sense into you.

—You're never happy with anything I do, right?

Y/n simply shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest while her eyes were still fixed on him. Jungkook simply sighed, overwhelmed by how difficult to handle she actually was. Nothing was well done, no words were proper either... How was he supposed to deal with her at all?

—I don't really know why you were playing around so much, instead of saying you were the owner of this place —she mentioned, looking around.

—Why would you want to know?

—Because I told you I needed to see the owner —she mocked his tone—. Business.

—Business? —he scoffed, raising both of his eyebrows.

—Not really business, but similar.

—I'm intrigued now.

As the minutes went by and the tension slowly went easier on them, Jungkook felt free to relax again, moving over his office to support his back over the edge of his desk. Y/n followed his movements, finding herself disconnecting from reality, and concentrating a bit too much on how his tattoos moved by the way his muscles flexed when he crossed his arms over his chest, imitating her pose.

—Remember the reason why I went to the fight? My editor wants me to...

—No.

—You don't even know what I was going to say.

—I don't care. It's a no.

—Honestly, I wasn't really asking for permission —she started moving in his direction—. I was just telling you you're going to help me.

His serious expression quickly changed, molding to his smile and the cackle that came from the deepest part of his throat when she mentioned that. Annoyed by how he didn't want to take her seriously, she sighed, sinking her hand inside one of the pockets of her jacket to take her phone out and look for a picture in the gallery before she placed it in front of his face, at the height of his eyes.

Slowly, his laugh decreased its volume, until it completely disappeared. He could only focus on the image in her hand. He was clearly visible on that ring, even if the shot wasn't in the best quality his face and tattoos were on full display, enough to make him recognizable to anyone who knew him.

—What about it? —his tone was calm, trying to hide how nervous he actually was.

—If you don't help me, your face will be all over the news by next Monday.

—And your corpse will appear in the gutter by Monday night —he answered back.

—You really think I'm scared of that? —she challenged him.

—The people that work for the man you met before will reduce you to nothing, I'm just warning you because I know how they work.

While he gave her something to focus her attention on, Jungkook moved, trying to snatch the phone away from her hand. Y/n was faster anyway. Her reflex had her moving her hand away on her back before he was able to move a centimeter closer to her. His arm was wrapped around her body, and her torso was rubbing against his chest while they were so dangerously close that he could even smell the strawberry gum scent that came out of her lips.

If he wasn't so annoyed, he probably would be kissing her.

—I want an answer before eleven —she whispered—. I'll write this article with or without your help.

There was something in him that had her wanting to be glued to him for a bit more, just five seconds more. But she stepped back while the third second was still processing in her brain, starting to perceive that subtle cigarette scent that came from him.

—That's blackmailing, and it's also a crime.

—Says the person who broke into my home and also filmed me without my consent to, surprise, blackmail me. I want an answer by eleven, 3B —she mocked the way he used to refer to her—. Have a good afternoon.

Jungkook watched her go, supporting the weight of his body on the edge of the desk as his head fell back.

That woman was the biggest pain in the ass he had ever met.

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[w2soneshots]

Friends? -W2S

words: 1.3k+

warnings: angst with a happy ending, mention of a break up, friends with benefits. (I think that’s it?)

summary: you and Harry start a new relationship but he breaks your heart.

Liked by wrotoshaw and 461,093 others

y/username: my weekend❤️ @wrotoshaw @miniminter

-comments-

taliamar: stunning😍😍

-> y/username: me or @miniminter ??

miniminter: I look like a neek

y/nfanpage21: the shoes🔥🤍

user85358013: Is she on a date with Harry!??🫢

-> user91245750: no you can see other people there.

I've been best friends with Simon for as long as I can remember. We hit it off during school, I supported him when he first started YouTube, I introduced him and Talia and have always been the one person he actually talks to about things. Simon is a surprisingly closed off person, so when he cried into my arms because him and Talia were struggling I knew I'd finally broken down that wall.

When he began the Sidemen channel and moved into the house he shared with Vik, Josh and JJ we grew apart slightly. He was so busy: constantly streaming, making videos, editing those videos and his sleep schedule was royally fucked up. He had no time to hang out or even give me a call. But once he met Talia it began to change and I quickly found myself back in his life like nothing had happened.

I soon became good friends with the rest of the boys as I came around to the house more. I especially enjoyed Harry's company, he's funny, slightly awkward until you get to know him and he's very fit (which helps). As the years went by our friendships became stronger even as people began building their own lives with girlfriends, pets and even kids.

Almost 2 months ago while on a night out me and Harry got a little closer than friends should be... aka we fucked. The next morning I woke up next to him in my bed and slightly freaked out. But after that night it happened again and again until one morning as we sat lying next to each other, my head resting on his sheet covered chest we decided we were labelled as friends with benefits. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea but what else could I do? Tell him I was sorta starting to catch feelings... no way.

Another 2 months later... we have now been fucking, whenever one of us needed a release after a long day or just someone to hold them while they drifted off to sleep, for around four months. One day I woke up to a phone call from Simon. Me and Simon tell each other everything, we always try and find the time for a phone call at the end of the day or whenever anything big happens the other person is always one of the first to know. So it was no surprise he was very aware of mine and Harry's... situation. I answered the call "hello?" I said groggily through the phone. "Hey y/n... Harry-" he said hesitantly. "What about Harry?" I asked slightly pissed off that I was woken up from my deep sleep.

"His ex... she's back." he said. I was quiet for a second. Harry's ex abruptly up and left him almost a year and a half ago. She didn't give him a proper reason and he was left broken. "What do you mean she's back? Does Harry know?" I asked rapidly. "Woah woah, yes he knows... he told me he's getting back with her." he said the last part with pity in his voice. I felt as though all of the air in my lungs disappeared along with the oxygen in my bedroom. I blinked and a single tear rolled down my cheek. "y/n?" Simon said softly. I glanced down to my phone and clicked the red decline button.

As soon as I put the phone down I burst into tears. In that moment I knew I'd fallen hard for Harry Lewis. I was so confused on how he could completely disregard the past few months with me and get back together with the person who left him broken for everyone else to pick up the pieces. Almost an hour later there was a knock on my door. I signed and stood from my bed. Once I got to my front door I cracked it open to see Simon and Talia stood there. Talia also knew about me and Harry since she caught us making out in the back of a club so I told her the rest.

Simon opened his arms and I fell into them and began sobbing again. I broke away a minute later once I calmed down. Talia gently rubbed circles with her hands on my back as we sat on the couch. "How could he get back with her after what she did to him?" I said quietly. Simon spoke up "he told Behz that she just got scared of how serious they were getting so left, but I'm not one hundred percent sure about that." I looked up "he could have at least told me before I had to find out from you." I said fiddling with my hands. "I'm sure he just didn't want to hurt you." Talia said trying to think of any positive. "I would have found out ether way." I said.

They left soon after and I sat holding myself on my couch while I watched a movie. Then when 5 o'clock hit I ordered myself a Nando's, ate it and fell asleep on the couch. The next morning I woke up and took a long hot shower, got dressed into a sweat set and left my apartment.

I got the lift down into the car garage below my building and found my car. I hopped in and drove to Boots to pick up my click and collect package. After I picked that up I decided to go to Asda to pick up some stuff since I was in need of a food shop. I was wondering down the isles when I got a phone call from Faith... "hello." I said once I answered the call. "Hey, you ok?" She asked. "Uh ye, I'm just in Asda." I replied. "Oh ok, just because I heard about- um Harry's ex and I knew you too sorta had something." she said. "Wait what? You knew?" I said slightly flustered. "y/n. Everyone knew it was obvious." she said. "Shit."

After my phone call with Faith I paid for my food, packed my car and drove home. As I walked towards my apartment, three bags full of groceries in hand, I spotted someone sat next to my door. "Harry?" I said as he stood. "Hey." he said. I stared at him wide eyed "what are you doing here?" "I just- I- I need to talk to you." he said nervously. I sighed "come in."

Harry sheepishly walked into my apartment and we stood in the kitchen. I put the bags down and began unpacking them into the fridge and cupboards. Harry stayed silent until I was finished. I sighed and placed my hands on the counter that Harry stood on the other side of. "Listen, if you're coming here for a quick fuck then-" I started. "What- no- I- I just came um- to apologise." he said and I furrowed my brows. "What?" I said confused. "I broke it off completely with my ex... I just couldn't believe she was back- I was so stupid, I took her back immediately but last night I realised that she wrecked me and I'd already moved on and also that I loved someone else," he said and finally looked up at me properly... "you, I love you."

"You do?" I asked stunned. He nodded "it's okay if you don't feel the same but I just needed to tell you." I walked around the counter and stood in front of him "I love you too Harry."

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

Chapter One - Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Nancy was nervous about hanging out with both Eddie and Steve. There was clearly something between the two of them, and Nancy didn't want to get in the way, but she wanted to be a part of Steve’s life again. She didn't realize how much she had missed him until now. She did want to get to know Eddie, though, like she told him she would. She approached Steve’s house cautiously and knocked on the door, trying not to think about the last time she was here. Steve had cooked her dinner, and Nancy had let him vent about his parents. She remembered them falling into bed afterward, and she remembered how gentle he was. . . She smiled, thinking about how, as always, he liked to hold her hand during the act of making love. For him, it was always making love. She regretted thinking about that before knocking because her face suddenly heated up at the sight of him.

"Hey, Nance, come in. It must be warm out there," Steve said and stepped aside to let her in.

"Yeah, that's it," Nancy said.

"Eddie called earlier to let us know that he'd be late," Steve said. "He kind of sounded like he had just woken up."

"Probably stayed up late, worrying about what we're going to do to him to get him back for the freezer incident," Nancy said with a grin.

"Well, I still have those robes your brother made us wear to that Star Trek convention," Steve said. "We can totally fuck with him."

"Star Wars," she corrected. "I know that you know the difference."

Before she could say anything else, there was a knocking on the door. Nancy and Steve both went to answer it. When they opened the door, Eddie stood there, grinning.

"Oh my god!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Your face is bleeding!" Steve exclaimed.

"Ah, so, funny story," Eddie said as he stepped inside.

Steve sighed, rolled his eyes, and dragged Eddie to the bathroom with Nancy following. He pulled out the first aid kit and started tending to the scratches on his face.

"What happened?" Nancy asked.

"I'm really bad at shaving my face," Eddie replied, and Nancy rolled her eyes. "A little girl's cat was stuck in this hole, and I had to get the poor thing out. Of course, the cat thanked me by giving my face a nice, scratchy hug."

"You're a hazard, you know that," Steve said fondly.

"That's what I was telling you," Eddie said.

"We should wrap him in bubble wrap," Nancy said.

"Yeah, that's what my uncle keeps telling me, and I swear, I think he's going to do it one of these days," Eddie said.

"Then again, we should also wrap you in bubble wrap, Steve," Nancy teased.

"Ha ha," Steve said. "So, what makes you think that I do know the difference between Star Trek and Star Wars, Nancy?"

"Nice segway," Eddie nodded.

"Because one night when you thought that I was still asleep on the couch, you changed the channel to Star Trek where you proceeded to mutter about how Kirk and Spock are totally gay for one another," Nancy said. "Which, by the way, was another clue."

"Yes! You believe in them, too!" Eddie said excitedly.

"Come on, that episode where Spock and Kirk basically rutted against each other in the dirt wasn't fooling anyone. That wasn't fight to the death music, that was fuck to the death music," Steve said.

"Yes!" Eddie clapped gleefully. "Plus, when Spock realized that Kirk was alive and pure joy came shining through. . . Come on!"

"Yes!" Steve exclaimed.

"You're both nerds," Nancy laughed.

"Everyone is a little nerdy about something, Nancy," Steve blushed.

"Well, there was no reason to hide it from me. I like Star Trek, too. Although, not nearly as much as you two," Nancy said with a snort. "And you two are both right."

Once Steve was done, he pulled out another first aid kit. It was much smaller than the other one.

"Carry this with you always," Steve said.

"Aww, it's a little baby first aid kit," Eddie said. "Thanks, man. I shall name you. . . Nigel? Yes, Princess Nigel."

"Princess Nigel?" Nancy laughed.

"A boy can be a princess, isn't that right, Stevie?" Eddie cooed at him.

"Shut up," Steve said, biting his lip and blushing.

Suddenly, they all heard the sound of the front door opening and the loud clattering of heels.

"Steven?" A female's voice called out.

"Your mother?" Nancy asked with wide eyes. "I didn't know your mother was coming back into town."

"Shit, I didn't either," Steve cursed.

"I don't hear your father," Nancy muttered with wide eyes.

"Steven!" Margaret Harrington yelled.

Steve sighed and stepped out of the bathroom to greet his mother. Nancy and Eddie followed tentatively.

"I'm here, mother. This is a pleasant surprise. I thought you wouldn't be back until next week," Steve said stiffly.

"Oh, well, the conference ended early. Your father had to take a later flight," Margaret said, and her eyes lit up when she spotted Nancy. "Oh, Nancy. It's so lovely to see you again. It's wonderful to see you two back together."

"You get younger and younger every time I see you, Mrs. Harrington," Nancy said gritting her teeth.

The truth was far from it. She was made of so much plastic that it was hard to tell what her features used to look like. She used to look like Steve. Nancy knew how much Steve hated what his mother had done to herself, which was why he only used products that accentuated what was already there. She knew why Margaret did it. She did it to keep her husband around for as long as possible. It honestly just made her look scary.

"Oh, such a lovely girl," Margaret said and pinched her cheeks. "You could teach my son a thing or two. Lord knows he needs it."

"Mother, Nancy, and I aren't together. We're just friends," Steve said.

"Oh, well, that's a shame," Margaret said in disappointment, and her eyes dimmed further when she caught sight of Eddie. "And who is this?"

"This is Eddie Munson. He's my - " but he was cut off before he could finish.

"We've talked about this, Steven," she snapped. "We've accepted that you're. . .different, but we've asked you not to bring your. . .boys around here. I don't have to tell your father about this, do I?"

"No!" Steve exclaimed, his face red. "Of course not, mother. We'll get out of your hair and let you get some rest."

"You're a sweet boy, Steven," Margaret said and patted his cheek. "I should warn you that when your father does come home, he's going to want to talk to you about you coming to work for him again."

"I told him that I don't want to do that. I told you guys what I want - " Steve said.

"And we told you that you could do so much better. Why waste your talents when you have potential elsewhere?" She asked.

"It wasn't wasted potential when Grandpa Otis had his own salon," Steve said.

"Well, your grandpa was. . . different," she sighed.

"Like me, you mean?" Steve scoffed. "Well, that's certainly something that I didn't know about Grandpa."

"I don't like this attitude, Steven. Do I have to tell your father?" Margaret asked.

"I'm sorry, Mother. It won't happen again. We were just leaving," Steve said.

"And please cut your hair, dear! You're starting to look like a girl!" His mother yelled out.

He gave his mother kisses on the cheek before dragging Nancy and Eddie out of the house. He had grabbed his keys on their way out. Once they were outside, Steve sucked in some air and exhaled heavily.

"Steve - ," Nancy started to say.

"So, where do you guys want to hang out?" Steve asked overly cheerful with his hands on his hips.

"Quarry. This time of day. It's gorgeous," Eddie said. "We'll pick up some food. Come on, Nancy, let's cheer up our boy."

Nancy certainly liked the way he said "our boy," and judging by Steve’s real smile, he liked it too. When they got to the quarry, they sat near the water with van doors propped open as they ate. Once they finished, they all stared at the water in silence for a while.

"So, was that the monster you guys were talking about? Because holy fuck was she scary," Eddie blurted out.

Nancy and Steve stared at him. Steve burst into laughter.

"That was my mother. She's great, isn't she?" Steve asked, scoffing. "You think she's bad, you haven't met my father."

"What were you telling her that you wanted to do?" Nancy asked.

"Promise me that you guys won't laugh?" Steve asked.

"Promise," they said in unison.

"I want to go to Cosmetology school and become a like a barber or something," Steve said.

"That's not funny at all. That's great, man," Eddie said.

"That's something you'd be really good at Steve," Nancy said.

"Either that or become a basketball coach," Steve said.

"You can always do both," Eddie pointed out.

"That's true," Steve grinned.

"What about you, Nancy?" Eddie asked. "What are your career aspirations?"

"Investigative Reporter, I want to help people find the truth," Nancy said.

"That's a worthy goal," Eddie said.

"If I only I can get past these misogynistic assholes at the Post. I have an internship their and they think that the only thing that I'm good for is answering the phone and making sandwiches," Nancy rolled her eyes.

"Decided to fight for the job, huh?" Steve asked.

"Yes, I think it's worth fighting for," Nancy said, gazing at him.

"You know, Wheeler, you handle their food. You can do whatever you want to it," Eddie suggested, grinning wickedly at her.

Nancy giggled and bit her lip. She threw her empty wrapper at him.

"Maybe you could," she said. "What about you? What do you want to becoome?"

"I don't know. I used to have dreams of becoming a rockstar but I kind of fucked that up," Eddie shrugged. "I'm stuck here in this town so I don't think it matters whether I figure it out or not."

"That's not true. You still have time to figure it out," Nancy said. "Not everyone knows exactly what they want out of life. Despite the fact that I seem to have a problem with learning it, it's alright not to have all the answers."

"But knowing that, you're never going to stop searching for them all, are you?" Eddie asked.

"Probably not," Nancy said with a grin.

"You'll find your calling, I'm sure of it," Steve said, and then he paused. "Maybe my mother is right. Maybe I should cut my hair. Do you think I should?"

"No!" Eddie and Nancy said.

"Your mother is never right," Nancy scoffed.

Eddie and Nancy reached forward at the same time to stroke the end of his hair. Steve sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into their touch.

"Do you want to cut your hair?" Nancy asked.

"No," Steve said.

"Then don't," Eddie said.

"What do you think she meant when she said my grandpa was different?" Steve asked. "Do you think he could have been like me and Eddie?"

"I don't know. Is there a way to find out. Maybe look through his stuff?" Eddie asked.

"They keep all his stuff locked up in his old salon," Steve said.

"This sounds a lot like someone could use her sleuthing skills to good use," Nancy said.

"And this sounds very much like a quest," Eddie said.

"You guys want to look through my grandfather's things with me?" Steve asked.

"If that's okay with you," Nancy said.

"Yeah, okay, sounds fun," Steve said. "I'm working all week, but Saturday is when I'm off next."

"Great, it's a date," Eddie grinned.

With Eddie and Nancy's hands still in his hair, the three off watched the sun start to begin its descent. They talked about the future well until the sun fell and the stars twinkled down upon them.

Chapter Four

[starluvsx]

★𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

proofread: yeaaa

word count:4k(lol plz send help)

WARNINGS: pt2 of jealous girl, toxic!Chris, smut but like for the plot yk, p in v, dick suckin, unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex kids😁👍), praise and degrading, crying, mentions of possible cheating, reader talks about being insecure, swearing, pet names, reader is def not standing on business.

A/N:here u gooo @urfavstromboli !this is too long holy shit.the smut part was so strange to write bc like I don't really like writing smut but I had to for like the story.also im sorry this took so long to makes started working on it right after pt1 and just forgot it was in my drafts LMAOOOO. also peep the special banner(I couldn't find any good lyrics).ok ill stop yappin and let you read.

𖦹 𖦹

��SATURDAY

my heart beat sped up as I slammed the door in Chris' face.never being this upset with him in my life. I mean I never really thought he would choose another girl over me.Especially not one that has problems with me for no apparent reason. As I broke down into sobs I pulled out my phone and ironically called Nick, Chris' brother, knowing he would comfort me.

"Hey what's up?Did Chris apologize?" Nick asked through the phone.Once my crying was heard I think he got the hint of what had happened though.

"Can you uh..can you come over please really just... need someone right now."I stifled out as I paced around my living room.too many yet not enough thoughts running through my head.

"yea of course, do you want me to grab anything on the way?"Nick questioned sympathetically. I only responded with a small 'the usual' before we promptly said goodbye and I hung up.

✧NICKS POV

I heard the front door open as I shuffled down the stairs,Chris huffing and puffing as he stepped into my view. "How'd it go?"I asked even though I already knew how it went.I wanted to see if he would lie to me.

"horrible, its not even my fault though, shes acting like an insane bitch and is trying to make me choose between her and ash.fucking stupid.she needs to get over herself." Chris spat out.i was shock at his words about a girl who he used to love so much.the only time he talked about her behind her back was when he was saying how pretty she looked or how kind she way or how funny she could be.all of those feeling were now replaced by cold, rude, bullshit.

"don't talk about her like that, dickhead." I retorted.yes he's my brother and I'll love him no matter what but there is no way I would let him talk about her in such a way.especially when I knew that wasn't what he was like at all.

"what?! How am I the dickhead?" he yelled out as I turned my body to Matt's room in order to ask if he could drive me to y/n's.rolling my eyes and choosing to ignore the boy who had very clearly lost it.

"Can you drive me to y/n's?"I asked while poking my head into Matt's dark room. a small 'yea sure' being the answer as he got up from his desk.walking back into the kitchen area I was met with an angered Chris. God he was acting like such a child.

"don't ignore me,"he slightly shouted. "If I'm really a dick then there must be a reason!" my youngest brother said, looking at me soullessly.

"you literally were flirting with Ashley the other day, didn't  say anything when she insulted your girlfriend, when y/n confronted you about it you don't even care, and then when she asked you to make the very reasonable decision of either her or Ashley you get all pissed and start calling her an insane bitch, so yea I think that makes you a dick."I rambled on frustrated.

Chris didn't say anything before I walked toward the front door.or maybe he was going to but just didn't because of the situation.either way I don't think he really needed to say anything else.as I was getting my shoes on I could faintly hear Matt say "I know your my brother but if you hurt her anymore after today I'll kick your ass." which was followed up by my silence and footsteps towards Chris' room.

Matt huffed as he walked down the stairs and walked out the door to his car with me.Once we got in the car we both sighed deeply. "He's so stupid sometimes."Matt breathed out as he started the car and began to back out of the driveway.

"seriously, also we need to stop by the gas station."I replied.even though I was going to her house in order to comfort her and hopefully make her realize he's not treating her well and that she should just leave I know it would be to no avail.shes a hopeless romantic and there not much I can do about it.

✧YOUR POV

tears sprung out of my eyes like frogs with no hesitation. “Please please please let me get what I want” by deftones playing on my speaker. I looked into the mirror across from my bed as I laid on my side, locking eyes with my own reflection.I slowly picked my body up and now simply sat on my bed.still staring at myself intently.

I found myself simultaneously messing with different parts of my body and face.silently wishing they would morph to look like Ashley.she was perfect.the perfect weight,perfect skin,flawless makeup, model like hair.no wonder why Chris didn't mind her being on top of him.he probably wanted people to think that was his girlfriend.not me.why would anyone wanna be seen with me anyways.

The doorbell ringing for the second time this night broke me out of my thoughts.I slowly brought myself to my feet and dragged myself to the front door.as I opened It I was met with a sympathetic looking Nick holding a gray bag. "hey girl..."he slowly said.

I'm not sure if it was just my brain trying to distract me or what but I couldn't help but notice he had dyed his hair red again. "your hair...its not blonde anymore..."I quietly said.my words making Nick smile

"Yeah I know, just kinda felt like another change, i don't know.do you like it?"he questioned.

"I love it, looks really cool man.''I answered, tired eyes looking at him and realizing he was still outside. "oh shit sorry"I said while moving out of the way. as he stepped into my house I made eye contact with Matt who had most likely been waiting for Nick to go into my house.I waved to him with a small smile as he reciprocated through his car window.

I sighed heavily as I shut the door.remembering what happened earlier. "Okay so I got you red bull, skinny pop, oreos, mints and Lindt chocolate, oh and I got nerds for myself, you can have some though."Nick said once he walked over to my kitchen table, placing the items on said table as he listed them.I don't know how he remembers what I like to eat when I'm sad but this does happen a lot I guess.

I put my head in my hands and let out a deep breath.trying to unwind somehow.a ping was then heard from across the table.i knew it was Nick because my phone had been left upstairs. "Oh God, look who it is."Nick said as he turned his phone to face me. it was Ashley.she had sent him something on snap.

'half swipe it."I said as I made my way around the table, peering over his shoulder to see his screen.

"I don't know how."he responded, panicking.

"Just pull it from the left." I tried to explain.my help wasn't very useful though because he opened it instead. 'Are you mad at me?' read the message "is she fucking stupid.of course your mad at her?"

"She is stupid, that's why she looks like that.im just gonna say no to see what she says."the boy next to me said as he typed out 'no' followed up by 'why would I be mad at you?'.

she immediately opened the message and began typing "wow I'm surprised she opened that fast, probably cause she has no life."I snakily said as we both watched her bitmoji type.

''Oh bc of what happened with y/n the other day. 'she clarified. He was about to start typing again before she beat him to it. 'yk when she was a psycho bitch for no reason' was the next message. "psycho bitch?!oh I'll show her a psycho bitch!"I said as I shot up from my leaned over position on the counter. walking angrily towards my front door.

"y/n you are not going to fight her right now, especially not when you look like that.'' Nick reasoned as he set his phone down. "just forget about her.she's just an irrelevant cunt that has nothing better to do with her life but hate." the red-head said.

he was right.i don't know why I cared what she thought.but when I really think about it,I don't.i couldn't give less then a fuck about how she saw me.it was Chris' opinion I cared about.i wanted him to think I was beautiful, funny and kind.i wanted him to think i was perfect.i wanted him to be able to see me over Ashely.

"did Chris say anything about me?"I asked.switching topics to something more relevant in my head. The face he made when I said this made my stomach drop.Mainly because I knew how mean Chris could get at times and considering what had happened earlier tonight I don't think he said anything good.

"Do you want what he should've said or what he did say?"he asked as I made my way back to my previous placement.

"Tell me what he actually said."I answered.feeling like I was taking a leap of faith.but I knew if I wasn't told the truth then I would never have a chance of getting over this man.

"he was all like 'it went horrible, it’s not even my fault though, she’s being an inane bitch and is trying to make me choose between her and ash.she needs to get over herself.'"Nick said, mimicking Chris' voice to make it more light hearted.it was a little funny but the words made my eyes well up with tears nonetheless.

I was feeling so many different things.sadness, anger, stress but most of all betrayal.i mean he said it wasn't even his fault basically saying it was mine.my fault for being upset for a little bit.he would rather call me an insane bitch then just admit he was wrong and stop being friends with Ashley.that fat pig.

"what!?Ugh I hate him so much!!Why do I even like him?He treats me like shit,never listens and is always on top of other girls?!I don't even think I've heard him say he loves me in like 3 months!? do you think he's cheating?oh my God he probably is!"I rambled on.placing my head in my arms at the end of my words.i slowly began to sob into my own arms.once Nick heard my sobs he hugged my hunched over back.

"no don't say that.he's obviously not cheating on you."he reassured.his words didn't do much though because my cries only got louder and more emotional.my best friend ushered me up so he could hug me normally.i pulled away from the hug  once I was able to actually breath.looking up at Nick with tired, sad,eyes.thankful for him being here but also embarrassed for crying over his brother. "wanna watch a movie?" the boy sympathetically asked.i nodded a small yes before I grabbed all my snacks and headed over to the couch.

watching the movie was a good distraction for some time.but nonetheless I found myself thinking of him. how much I missed him and just wishing he was here right now.im not going to apologize though.I did nothing wrong no matter what he thinks.so if that means that we never speak again then I'm fine with that.oh who am I kidding, I'm definitely not fine with that.

✧THE NEXT DAY, SUNDAY

'come over please' and 'I miss you' were the two messages I had been staring at for at least five minutes.the sender being chris made this all the more strange and confusing.i mean he was just calling me an insane bitch yesterday and now he wants me to come over.but for some reason I caved.maybe he wanted to apologize or something.

I threw a zip up over my lace tank top and tied my gray sweatpants.sliding my crocs on as I stepped outside started walking to my car.

Once I began driving I found myself more fidgety in anticipation than what felt like ever before.fingers tapping against the steering wheel rhythmically and constant glancing at the ETA were I knew this.

As I entered the house using my key I felt anxiety rush over me.Matts keys weren't here and neither was Nick's jacket which he never leaves the house without during this time of the year.meaning that it was only the two of us in this house.

My footsteps felt heavy as I walked down to his room.something I had done many times now feeling unfamiliar.I knocked on his bedroom door lightly once I approached it. though as the door was opened I wasn't even aloud a greeting before he placed his hands on my hips and smashed his lips onto mine hungrily.i wish I could say I rejected the kiss but I couldn't.it was like he had put a spell on me.

he walked backwards as we eventually crashed onto his bed.i straddled over his lap as I deepened kiss.he swiftly flipped me over onto my back and moved me so I was sat up a little.i took the hint and unzipped my hoodie, throwing it off to the side while trying my best not to break the kiss.

he then removed my tank top.now revealing my bare chest to him "no bra huh?so you are still my slut." he said as a smirk formed on his lips.

"I was actually about to go to bed but whatever you wanna believe."I retorted.

"do you want me to fuck you or not?"he questioned, looking into my eyes.i stayed silent though.letting the wetness between my legs make my decisions. "that's what I thought."he darkly said. pale arms taking his own shirt off.toned body now all in view for me.

"you know what to do.''was my signal to take my pants off.i undid the tie on my sweats and slid them off.leaving my white laced panties on. "sit up and go on the side of the bed"he demanded.i did as he said.sitting on my knees a on the side of the bed I was closer to.he then came around to the side I was facing.once he was directly in front of me he dropped his baggy jeans and boxers at once, cock springing free.all 8 inches now stood in front of me.his pink tip leaking pre-cum.

I looked up at him innocently.as if I had never done this before.i then, on instinct, began to pump him with my hand slowly.my actions making his breath hitch.i placed my lips on the tip and began to lower my head.pace increasing every time I brought my head up.eventually his hands made their way to my hair and began to push my head into his cock roughly. "fuck just like that.keep going.use that perfect little mouth for something good for once."he harshly spat out looking down at me as he said that.i ignored his words though and continued to suck him off.

This feeling being lost on me for almost a week made my throat sting pleasurably.his grip on my hair tightened which told he was close.the signal making me go faster.if even possible.small whimpers fell from his cherry lips as I continued to work. “Oh God yes,please I’m…I’m almost there”he mumbled out, the words working as encouragement for me to keep going.then without warning I felt his cum shoot itself into my mouth.the salty savory flavor touched my taste buds as I swallowed.

Once he came down from his own high he looked down at me.i kept my eyes on his.looking up like a lost puppy. "fuck your so hot" he said as he grabbed my middle area and situated me on my back and so I was on his bed longways.once he laid down with me he whispered "sit on my lap baby"

I complied and did as he said.placing myself more on his legs then his actual lap because I knew he wouldn't be that easy. "you want me to fuck you?"he asked.i nodded 'yes' in response. looking down at him with pleading eyes even though I was on top right now. "use your words.you had so much to say before, what happened to that?"he teased.

"please chris just fuck me, ive been waiting for days!"I squealed out.thankful there was nobody else home right now. 

"good girl.."he hissed out.his words being my command to lift my hips up and hover over his cock.then without warning he thrusted up into me after lining himself up with my entrance.the sudden feeling making me yelp.he continued to buck his hips up into mine as I bounced simultaneously, placing my fingertips on his chest for some sort of stabilization.

moans that were higher pitched than my actual voice spilled out of my mouth along with swears and small pleads.my body was hot as I went up and down on him.his hands were at my waist, guiding my every move harshly. The pale boy grabbed my waist hard, making me wince at the pleasure mixed with pain.the idea that the boy who I was crying over last night was ramming himself into me right now made me feel guilty.but I can't help it.his touch is intoxicating.

my jaw fell open as pornographic noises flowed from my lips.eyes screwing shut and head being now hung low.i was so caught up in myself that I didn't even register the small whimpers coming from the boy underneath me. The noises being my key to realize he really did miss me.at least a part of me. "keep going baby, don't stop, i'm gonna-"I rambled on before being cut off by my own already familiar noises

"Me too..shit.."he whispered.

"chris fuck fuck fuuuuck"I strung out as I came undone on top of him.laying my body on his as he thrusted up into me again,chasing his own high. Whiny whimpers made their way into my ear as I felt him twitch inside of me.knowing he was close I decided to tease him a little by kissing his neck and leaving a trail of hickeys.my sensitive body not mattering at all to either of us.

"fuck baby" he groaned out as I felt his load shoot into me, coating my insides.we sat there in silence.sweaty bodies catching their breath.once we calmed ourselves he pulled me off him and situated me so I was laying on my side, facing the boy who replicated my current position."lemme get you a towel."he said before promptly getting up, putting his boxers on, and doing as he said.

When he came back and cleaned me up I couldn't help but stare at him.all his features slithering into my eyes. "Can I have a shirt?"I asked softy.not wanting to put my tank top back on because of the temperature.he only hummed an ‘mhm’ before tossing me a random black shirt with a white design on it.

"Can we talk? ''he awkwardly said as we both were now sat up and at least partially clothed. I nodded my head to signify I was listening."listen y/n im...im really sorry about earlier.i was a dick and I shouldn't have acted like that.i know you don't like Ashley and i'm totally fine with dropping her.i would rather lose her then you any day and i'm so sorry if I made you feel otherwise.a-and if your ever upset again don't be afraid to say something cause I promise I won't act like a dick again."he nervously rambled on.

I wish I had it in me to stay mad at him but I couldn't.i know this apology was just so I wouldn't leave him lonely and he would pull something stupid in a few weeks.but I can't help it.i'm in love with him and there's nothing I can do about it.

✧MONDAY MORNING

my eyes screwed shut almost immediately after they fluttered open, the bright sunlight causing this.i turned my head around to the best of my abilities to see if chris was awake and it didn't seem like it. I turned my head back and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. "you're finally awake."Chris said from behind me,startling me a little.

I hummed a small 'mhm' before trying to get up but to my dismay he pulled me back down to my previous spot. "I have to pee."I giggled.

"pee later"he mumbled, pulling me closer if possible.

"yea no thank you"I said before breaking out of his limp arms grasp and standing up to go to the bathroom.taking a mental note of my sore legs from last night.

"I see you limping!"he teased once I got into the bathroom.

"oh fuck off"I lightly shouted back.once I washed my hands I began walking towards his door, the idea of food in mind.

"Where are you going?"he asked from his now sat up place.holding himself up on his elbows.

"I'm hungry"I said while throwing on my sweatpants that had been tossed here last night.

When I got up the stairs Nick turned his head to me.shock and disappointment coated his face. "Okay I thought we agreed you hated him?"he questioned.Keeping his voice low knowing Chris was still in the house.

"ugh I know but he texted me last night and told me to come over and then one thing led to another and...look he apologized."I tried to reason.nick though, was not having any of this.i made my way over to the fridge and grabbed my strawberry smoothie from Thursday that had been left here by accident.Taking a sip from it while I turned around to face my best friend again.

"yea and he apologized last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.you have to let him go y/n.he's not good for you."Nick explained to me.I know he was right but I couldn't just get over him.I wasn't the type of person to just get over stuff like that.

"Well last night seemed genuine, okay?I seriously think he meant it.''I said before footsteps were heard coming from chris' bedroom which ended me and Nick's conversation.

Chris hugged me from behind and kissed the top of my head.nick shot me a "you need help" look and I couldn't do much besides give him a "yea I know" look back.the brothers began conversing but it was more like background music to me.

I know nick is right, he’s not good for me.but I can't help it.everytime I look into his eyes I feel like i'm sinking deeper in this pit of love I dug so long a ago for him.i hated that I loved him and how I knew he was gonna do me wrong.but with his arms wrapped around me like they were right now I can't help but leave that as a problem for future me.

[akalikai]

TMAGP EP 22 REACTION (SPOILERS)

"So you just ran away" Lena sweetie my live what else was she meant to do (to be fair, Gwen didn't have to provoke ink5oul)

"Watching figure" yeah OK definitely some Eye creature of sorts I'm rly thinking it's like...The Beholding as a creature or an old archivist

THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY "presumably you didn't get any contact details from them?" "I guess it's slipped my mind as I was fleeing the SUPERNATURAL PSYCHOPATHS!" also Lena I don't think that you were gonna get any contact details regardless that bitch don't seem like they got a phone

Lena genuinely cares about her employees but also she hates paperwork (polar opposite of Elias)

Okay here's the thing right. I kind of get Gwen. She wasn't briefed on how to handle a situation like that, like what was she MEANT to do??? I would be pissed off if shit like that happened and no one gave me any warning (again, though, Gwen also has a tendency to naturally be a bit bitchy so that probably made it worse)

WAIT. HOLD ON MRS. KELLEY?? AM I READING INTO THINGS TOO MUCH OR. GUYS IS LENA MARRIED????

YO GUYS GRANDPA IS BACK

Oh shit okay so they are kind of recreating or continuing Newton's original experiments, seeing as they mentioned an experiment on Canis (which I believe means "dog"). It seems to have been expanded to apes (Hominidae), bunnies (Leoporidae), and old world monkeys (Cercopithecidae). And it seems this researcher is having strange side effects when it comes to his subjects.

"Herr Schmidt" I'm assuming this is German?

Hm, being told to use silver which again is like. Seeming to be a theme. I'm not sure but in the Newton episode, was there silver as well?

Okay for clarification, it seems like "Zeitgeist" is an invisible agent, force, or daemon dominating the characteristics of a given epoch in world history. Einthoven was a Dutch medical doctor and physiologist and he created the first ECG.

Woahhh hold on. So they're talking about severing a bundle of nerves to make it seem like two animals in one body because it messes with sense of self? This kind of makes me think a little of ink5ouls, the way they seemed scared sometimes of what they were becoming and then like. You know. Scary monster let's chase down Gwen and tattoo her against her will.

Hmm okay so this telegraph seems to be directly responding to the researcher's question, not the patient himself. Like it seems like it's Telegraph -> Herr Schmidt's reaction and not Herr Schmidt's thoughts -> Telegraph reaction.

OH. OK. HERR SCHMIDT IS DEAD NOW.

Damn Ursula is awesome she could immediately understand what was happening.

Oh boy. Oh this gonna be bad. Sam is going to find out that Alice was messing with his computer and Sam does NOT seem like the type to be chill with that.

Hm okay so the severing of the nerves might have worked? And perhaps it was like there were 2 people in Herr Schmidt's body? And from what I can tell, they want so badly to get out that they basically BURST out if his head in the deformity from the back of his head? It still doesn't answer WHAT or WHO these two voices are.

Also it makes sense that Augustus is giving something like this because like...pretty sure he's stuck in the computer, probably with jonmartin and they all want out.

Aw man :(((

OH BOY. "You're trying to control me. Again." I wonder if this is referencing their relationship and why they broke up. I can see it, I do think that Alice has a tendency to be controlling out of need to keep everyone around her safe which is pretty different, but I'm on Sam's side here. Taking away his ability to choose just...isn't great.

Yeahhhh Alice seems to have definitely been hoping to rekindle what they might have had but I think the issue seems that she hoped SAM had changed from before while the reason they broke up was because Sam couldn't be with Alice anymore since he felt like she was too controlling. And now that Sam seems to be having a genuine connection with Celia where he feels comfortable and happy, Alice seems jealous.

SHUT THE FUCK UP. OH MY GOD WHAT WHAT WHAT HOLY FUCK HIH WHAT AKDVAKDHWJT E

JONATHAN SIMS AND MARTIN BLACKWOOD????

HEY GUYS WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK HWIAHAOWVEBE RHAJDVAIBDKWBR E

I JUST SCREAMED "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD" WHAT YOU WHAT HUH WHAT

AND THE FACT THAT CELIA MENTIONED THEM BOTH SPECIFICALLY TOGETHER LIKE HELLO???? GUYS IM. WHAT.

I'm sorry shut up this is all I'm gonna be talking about for the next month what the HELL