#so yeah I tortured myself with this again to find the answers

[semi-sketchy]

This won't be useful to anyone except me but here's when each batch of side stories unlock in The Final Horizon as well as their location.

[ariestrxsh]

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, sneaking around, risky, oral, teasing, degradation, humiliation, edging, orgasm denial, shower sex, creampie, roughdom!matt, brattamer!matt, bratty!reader, enemies to lovers

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part of a series, and here are parts one, two, and three. it's not necessary to read the other parts, but it makes the story better and adds to the dynamic between the characters. 💖 there will be more parts to this.

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You and Matt continue sneaking around right under his brothers' noses despite the fact that the two of you hate each other.

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

hatef--k part four

I threw my clothes and my vibrator into my big tote bag, along with a phone charger and some snacks from my pantry. I was still in shock that Matt had seen me packing my favorite sex toy and then relentlessly teased me with it. And the bastard didn't even let me cum.

I angrily stomped to his car and resentfully got into it. I could feel every bump as we drove over it, every vibration from the way the tires hit the pavement beneath us, and it was pure torture as I sat there, unfinished.

"You know, I should tell Nick your water is back on, and you lied to him," Matt broke the silence, clicking his tongue at me and shaking his head. "You won't," I called his bluff. "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" He narrowed his eyes. "Because you love it when I prance around your house half-naked and tease you until you can't take it anymore. You want me to stay with you guys longer," I told him, reading him like a book. He didn't say anything, but he shot a smile that confirmed my suspicion. All doms are the same. Most of their threats that don't benefit them are empty.

We pulled into the driveway, and as we walked into the house, Matt shut the door in my face again. I rolled my eyes, stopping it with my hand. I set my tote bag down next to the couch in the living room, and when Matt and I stepped into the kitchen, we were greeted by Chris who was home attempting to make pancakes, but instead of flipping them with a spatula, he was flipping them into the air and trying to catch them in the frying pan. "Chris! You're making breakfast for four people. We don't have pancakes to waste," Nick scolded him, pointing the spatula at him.

"Good to see you guys survived the night alone together. I thought, for sure, based on how pissed Matt was about you staying here, he was gonna choke you out or something," Chris joked, cracking open an egg into a bowl. "Yeah, he tried, but he was too much of a bitch to finish the job," I smirked at Matt.

"Do either of you want coffee?" Nick offered, holding up a french press. "Yes, please," Matt and I both responded in unison, but we both shot each other a glare, resenting the other for answering the same way. Nick poured us each a cup of coffee, and we all fixed our plates and sat around the kitchen table together. "You guys really are the nice ones. Thank you so much for making breakfast for us," I said. It was a compliment to Nick and Chris, but even more than that, it was a slight towards Matt. I was still very angry about the sex toy incident.

"Of course. Anytime. You're our guest," Nick replied. "So what did you guys do last night when you had the house to yourselves?" Chris said before taking a bite of his hashbrowns. Matt and I shot each other a glance. "I watched The Bachelorette," I told them, taking a sip of my coffee. "And I played video games in my room," Matt said without looking up from his food. "You mean, you guys sat on opposite sides of the house.. and ignored each other?" Nick questioned, looking skeptically at us. "I find that hard to believe because any time you two are in the same vicinity, you pick on each other," Nick said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, well when I went to shower.." I started to say, but then I stopped myself. Matt delivered a swift kick under the table and hit me in the shin. "Oh, just for that, I'm telling them," I looked towards Matt and then I turned to his brothers, "Matt thought it would be funny to take my towel amd hide it while I was showering." I took a sip of my coffee and looked back over at Matt, who was looking at me like he wanted to kill me. Please punish me for that one later, I silently begged him with my eyes.

"Matt! What the fuck?" Nick asked with a look of disgust. "Bro, that's weird," Chris shook his head. I secretly liked embarrassing Matt in front of his brothers and getting them both on my side. It was as harmless as Matt taking my towel and my clothes, right? "It's fine. He gave it right back to me," I told them, smiling and taking a bite of my eggs.

We continued to eat our breakfast, and once we were done, Chris volunteered Matt and me to clean up since he and Nick made breakfast. I was happy to oblige, considering the boys were being so kind and letting me stay with them, and Matt begrudgingly agreed. "Plus, it'll give you guys more alone time together, so you can hopefully overcome your differences," Nick chuckled. Little did he know, the only time Matt and I could ever overcome our differences was long enough to fuck each other's brains out. Chris and Nick both headed upstairs, leaving Matt and me in the kitchen by ourselves.

Matt immediately backed me up against the counter and got into my face. "You like making me look like a fucking perv in front of my brothers, huh?" He growled quietly next to my ear, while he started to take his hand and press it against my mound. "You are a perv," I shot back. "Yeah, but you fucking love it," Matt gruffly said, applying more pressure. I could feel the edge of the counter digging into my back as Matt fondled me. I could feel myself growing weak.

"Let's get these off of you, you little whore," Matt grumbled while he started to pull down my pants. I was still wet from the vibrator incident earlier. He picked me up by my waist and set me on the counter. I felt the cold, hard granite underneath me as he placed me. He looked up intently into my eyes as he got down onto his knees, wrapped his strong arms around my thighs, and held them apart further.

I watched in anticipation as he flattened his tongue and started tickling my clit with it. I tried to seem like I wasn't dying for it, but I couldn't keep my equanimity. My moans got away from me with every stroke of his remarkable tongue. His soft lips engulfed me, and he hummed against my favorite nerve endings while I watched his eyes roll back as he savored my taste. I secretly loved the way he ate pussy, like he wanted it, like he needed it. "Mmmm. You're such a naughty girl. You're loving this, aren't you?" He said, his lips vibrating against my sex. "Not as much as you," I joked. He started to gently nibble on my clit, and I started tugging on his hair. My legs locked around his head as he worked wonders with his mouth below my waist.

"You like it when I eat you while my brothers are upstairs? They could come down any minute and catch us," he muffled against my pussy. All I could do was nod and bite my lip as I tried to suppress the sounds I so desperately wanted to let loose. "Slut. I bet if Nick and Chris walked down here right now and saw what we were doing, you'd squirt all over my tongue, wouldn't you, used up little whore," he smirked. And he was right. The idea of being caught was enticing. I felt like I was at the edge of more than just the countertop, but before I could enjoy the sensation and fully sink into it, Matt was pulling away.

"No, no, no," I whined, gripping his locks of hair. "Please don't do this to me again," I begged him, chasing the feeling of his tongue, desperate for sweet release. He looked up at me, taunting me. "Not after you were such a bad girl for tattling on me to Nick and Chris," he grinned menacingly. His mouth glistened from nearly devouring me. "I'll do anything," I pleaded. "Yeah, anything but behave," he scolded me, bringing himself to his feet and wiping his face.

"You can finish cleaning the kitchen. I'm gonna go play video games," he replied, handing me back my pants. "The fuck I am. You're not gonna help me clean?" I angrily shot back. "No, and if you tell Nick or Chris that I didn't help you, I'll make sure they accidentally stumble upon your vibrator while you're here," Matt sneered. "Fuck you, asshole," I said under my breath as Matt was walking away. He immediately turned back around and brutally grabbed me by the neck. "Keep going and I won't let you cum tonight either," he snarled.

"And clean your pussy juice off the counter. People cook there," he said to me as he released me from his intense grip and disappeared out of the room. I quickly put my underwear and pants back on and finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen.

"So, how was cleaning the kitchen with Matt? Did you guys bond?" Nick sat down on the couch next to me several hours later while I was curled up scrolling on my phone. "Yeah, something like that," I blankly answered. "What's wrong? I can tell something is up with you," Nick replied. Oh, you know, Nick, your brother just keeps edging me and then ruining my climax. That's what's wrong. But of course, I couldn't say that, so I settled for a dramatic sigh and instead said, "You know, I'm just getting impatient with this whole water situation. You guys are really great for letting me stay here. I just can't help but feel like I'm intruding on your space."

"We want you here, silly. Even if your water weren't out, we'd probably still be hanging out with you," Nick reassured me. And it made me feel bad about lying in the first place. We sat next to eachother, laughing at memes until the sun started to set.

"It's getting late. I'm gonna start getting ready for bed," I relayed to Nick. We stood up and hugged each other. I thanked him again for his kindness, and he thanked me for my company. "By the way, I'm sleeping down here on the couch tonight. You can have my bed again," Nick offered. I couldn't let him. Not when I knew I'd be sneaking into Matt's room and falling asleep next to him anyway. "Nick, you're too sweet. But really, I think we should make Matt sleep down here and I can take his bed. Payback for him being a dick last night," I gave Nick a really sincere face. "That's a great idea actually," Nick's face lit up. "Don't worry, I'll tell him," I smiled.

I made my way to the bathroom with my towel, my clothes, and my vibrator. I started running the shower and once the water was hot enough to get in, I stood beneath the stream of warmth, vibrator in hand. Overcome by the incredible feeling of finally releasing pressure that had build up all day, I didn't even hear Matt come in until he was pulling back the curtain. My eyes shot open and I scrambled to shut off my toy.

"Awh. Trying to finish without me?" Matt chuckled, standing in front of me completely naked. "What are you doing?" I whispered to Matt, covering myself with the shower curtain. Bastard ruined my orgasm again. "I came to shower with you," he smiled. He got in and immediately pushed me up against the shower wall. "I think I've been keeping you waiting long enough," he gruffed into my ear as he propped my left leg onto the side of the tub.

He lined up his hardening cock with my entrance and inserted it in a brutal manner. I let out a small yelp as I felt him start violently bucking his hips. "Take my cock, you little whore," he rasped while my walls stretched around him. He grabbed onto my hair and yanked it hard while his cock grew to its full potential.

"Hey, sorry to bother you while you're showering, but did you see Matt anywhere before you got in?" Nick asked poking his head in through the bathroom door. "No, I didn't," I responded, biting my lip to hold back another satisfied sound and trying not to blow our little secret behind the shower curtain. "Have you noticed he's been acting strange lately?" Nick pondered out loud while Matt pounded into me from behind. "Stranger than normal? Kid's a freak," I snarked, and Matt started to fuck me harder for the jab I made at him to Nick, and he held his hand over my mouth to shut me up.

"Yeah, I've noticed he's been kind of distant from Chris and me, and he's been even meaner to you than normal. I just worry he may be going through something," Nick responded sounding worried. Oh, he's going through something alright, I thought to myself as Matt bottomed out in me, thrusting against my gspot with incredible force.

"If you see him, will you let him know I'm looking for him?" Nick asked, but while Nick said this Matt was whispering into my ear quietly enough for only me to hear, "Cum on my cock, you naughty fucking whore," while he released his hand from my mouth so I could respond to Nick. "Yes, Matt," I slipped up. My eyes widened when I realized my error. "Did you just call me Matt?" Nick inquired, chuckling. "Sorry, Nick. I mispoke," I held myself together long enough to correct my mistake.

Just then, Matt reached up and covered my mouth with his palm again, grabbing me even more roughly than before while we came in tandem, both our orgasms tearing through us silently. My eyes rolled back, and it took everything in my power to not scream Matt's name while I throbbed around him. Matt's cock twitched, depositing his seed inside of me while Nick stood in the doorway telling me to enjoy my shower and giving me shit for calling him the wrong name. When we heard the door shut and Nick leave, Matt chuckled and said, "You're so hot for finishing on my cock while Nick was in the room. You're such a naughty girl."

"You're hot for making me wait so long for that. By the way, Nick and I talked about it. I'm taking your room tonight. Have fun sleeping on the couch," you smirked back at him breathlessly while the two of you finished your shower.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @ribread03 @slutforsturnioloss @thepubeburgler @schlutt4matty @valkatriee @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @witchofthehour @alexisxena

part five posted here 💖

[arc-misadventures]

BMI Jaune: Willow, Summer, and Kali?

BMI: Jaune II

Juniper: Jaune~!

Jaune: No...

Juniper: What?

Jaune: No. Whatever it is, the answer is: No.

Juniper: But, I never said anything?

Jaune: But, you're going to ask me something, and whatever the ask is about, the answer is: No.

Juniper: ...

Juniper: BMI...

Jaune: AHHHH?! Not this shit again!

Juniper: Your chose for this BMI, are Willow Schnee.

Willow: Hello, Jaune~!

Jaune: Hi...?

Juniper: Kali Belladonna.

Kali: Oh look, it's my favourite human~!

Jaune: Why did you say it like that...?

Juniper: And, lastly we have, Summer Rose.

Summer: Hello, Daddy~!

Jaune: Excuse me, what...?

Juniper: Are you ready to choose who you going to, BMI, Jaune~?

Jaune: The hell are you making me choose between my friend’s mom?!

Juniper: Well, as one woman/mother to another, they told me about their... pitiful sex lives, or lack there of in some cases...

Summer: Juniper?!

Kali: How could you just say that?!

Willow: Considering my ex-husband size or, more accurately the lack there of... Honestly, there isn't much to brag about. There is certainly plenty to complain about however…

Juniper: What? Both of your husbands are dead, so you haven't had much, if any action since they died.

Kalli: Well, that's true...

Summer: It's not like we did it much after I had, Ruby...

Juniper: And, Willow... I'm sorry you had to go through that so often...

Willow: While, I love my children with all my heart, and I wouldn't trade them for the world. I do sometimes find myself wishing I had my son sooner so I didn't have to have... relations as often as I did.

Juniper: See! They have sad sexless lives since they lost their husbands. And, Willow had...

Juniper: She had, Jacques...

Juniper: So, Jaune please, BMI these three woman, and help them ‘fix’ their dry spell?

Jaune: ...

SKW: Please~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Haaaa...

Jaune: I would Marry, Summer.

Summer: And, why do you want to do that, Husband Dearest~?

Jaune: 'Husband dearest?"

Jaune: Okay? Okay, I say that because you look like you would be a wonderful housewife to come home to.

Summer: Naww~!

Jaune: Plus you look like the woman/wife who would do the, "Hi honey, welcome home! Would like a bath, dinner, or me?" Type of woman, and I...? Ahem... yeah that...

Summer: Oh; Is that so~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I Would, Breed Kali.

Kali: Why?

Jaune: Well... You have large birthing hips... and I want to give those birthing hips a run for their money...

Kali: Oh, I hope feel like we're going to enjoy that~!

Jaune: Hahaha...

Jaune: I would impregnate, Willow.

Willow: Oh, why would you do that?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I hate you ex-husband with a burning passion. A lot of people think that killing him, or torturing him to death would be the best sort of revenge for what he did. But, I think... taking his woman, and making her mine is a much more tantalizing idea~!

Willow: Y-Yours?

Jaune: I’ll make you my woman! By the time I’m through with you, you’ll fit around me perfectly, no other man will satisfy you, you’ll come begging for more, and I’ll be all to happy to oblige~!

Willow: Y-Y-You promise…?

Jaune: Uhh… Well… T-That is of we… did do it…

Summer: Do you think he could do that?

Kali: Maybe? My daughter did say he’s quite big.

Willow: How big?

Kali: Six when soft, ten when hard, and plenty thick as well~!

Willow: Heavens, say it is so~!

Summer: Are you really that big~?

Jaune: WHAT?! How the hell do you know that?!

Willow: He is~!

Summer: Hmm… Juniper, please be a dear, and leave.

Juniper: Why?

Summer: Because, the sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll have grandchildren~!

Juniper: Good luck, Jaune! Remember to not use a condom!

Jaune: W-W-What?! Wait… hold on!

Kali: Don run, Jaune: The fun is about to begin~!

Willow: Come on, Jaune… it’s time to continue the, Arc bloodline~!

Summer: So what will it be, Jaune; Will you take, Kali, or do you want, Willow, or perhaps me~?

Jaune: Ohhh…?!

Jaune: P-Please be gentle…?

SKW: Fu-fufu~!

Kali: No promises~!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Long Long Time

Day #3 - Prompt: Mutual Pining | Word Count: 1050 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Idiot 4 Idiot, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Platonic Stobin, Robin Knows What's Up

It's not one realization. It's several, over and over again. A steady falling, until he's in so deep, there's just nothing to be done about it. 

"Stop pining, dingus," Robin says, and Steve looks up at her and smiles.

"Impossible," he answers.

"Just tell him," she urges, and he shakes his head. Eddie isn't interested. He's made that pretty clear with the distance he's put between them. 

"Nah, that's not cool. He's getting ready to go," Steve says, "no reason to make it uncomfortable now."

"Dingus. No. Stop it. I can promise you Eddie is pining for you just as hard."

Steve shakes his head. He knows that's not true. Steve's tried all his best moves over the last two years, everything he knows, and has nothing to show for it, except a heart that's maybe not gonna be his anymore.

Steve sits on the floor of Wayne's house, and helps box tapes. Eddie's going. He's really leaving, and soon. 

And Steve's sure that's gonna hurt him for a long, long time. 

"So, what're your big plans for this summer, Harrington?" Eddie asks.

Missing you, Steve thinks, but doesn't say.

"Oh, I don't know. Hang out with Rob, I suppose. Find new jobs. You know we like to change it up every so often. Wreak havoc elsewhere."

Eddie laughs, and it makes Steve smile.

"You could come with me, you know," Eddie offers, but keeps looking down at the box he's packing. "Both of you. All of us."

It's not a real offer, Steve knows that. He knows he's supposed to say no, supposed to let Eddie go, without throwing an anchor around his neck. 

"Oh, you don't want that," Steve rebuffs, and Eddie looks up. "I'll cramp your style."

Eddie laughs, "Yeah, you know me. Party animal."

Steve grins, "You might become one. You won't want me tagging along for that."

"But, what if I do?" Eddie asks, and Steve looks up at him.

"Eddie," Steve says, trying to cut this off before he embarrasses himself.

"You're one of my best friends, and we could have fun together."

They could. Steve knows that's true. But he can't go live in an apartment with Eddie. Can't watch him spread his wings and date, right in front of Steve's face. That'd be too hard.

Even if part of Steve wants to say yes, desperately, just to cling onto anything that's being offered.

But he's trying to be better about that. Trying to grow, and shit.

He can only let his heart get trampled so many times, and he's nearing his limit. He definitely won't be able to survive it happening under Eddie's boot.

"C'mon, Steve. For me."

And that almost does it. He hates to deny anything that Eddie might want, but sometimes, you've got to save yourself first. Put on your own life preserver, then worry about everybody else. Robin's taught him that. Or, has at least tried to.

"I can't."

"Why? Robin? I said she can come, too!"

"Because we don't feel the same way about each other, Eddie!" Steve snaps, and Eddie turns into himself, immediately.

"Oh. Oh shit," Eddie says, "I didn't know you knew. Wow, that's embarrassing," he mutters, and it kind of makes Steve mad. 

"I'm not embarrassed. I can't help who I lov-. Like. Whatever. But I just can't torture myself, man. I want you to be happy, I do. And I'm the wrong guy for making that happen, obviously, so let's just leave it. While we're still friends."

Eddie's nodding, still packing, then he's suddenly frozen in place, "Wait. What? You make me the happiest."

"As a friend," Steve clarifies.

"Well, yeah. But, if you were into it, as more, too."

"Wait. What?" Steve asks, repeating the same thing Eddie had just said. This is gonna turn into Who's on First? if they aren't careful.

"I mean," Eddie says, shying away, "I know you aren't interested like that. But I still want you around."

Steve laughs, fucking cackles, like he's crazy. He feels crazy.

Was Robin right all along? Was Eddie doing the same kind of pining, and Steve just never noticed? Fuck.

They are both goddamn idiots, if that's the case.

"Well, don't laugh," Eddie says, and he sounds dejected.

"Wait, Eddie, hold up," Steve says, crawling across the carpet towards him, putting his hand on Eddie's forearm. "Do we have crossed wires here? Do you like me, like me? Like I like you?'

"You like me?" Eddie asks.

"Uh, yeah," Steve admits, "I have for a while, to be honest."

"Jesus H. Christ, we're idiots," Eddie says, pushing his hand into Steve's hair.

"Dinguses, if you ask Robin," Steve says, smiling, and Eddie's so close he could kiss him. 

Steve thinks he will, and leans in, where Eddie meets him halfway. Kissing him, and it's everything, more than Steve hoped it could ever be.

When Eddie pulls back he's smiling, eyes crinkled at the edges, fucking happy.

He looks thrilled, and Steve decides to go all in. In for a penny, in for a goddamn pound.

"I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time," Steve whispers in a sing-songy way, because even as happy as Eddie looks right now, Steve's still scared his love won't be wanted.

But Eddie just grins even harder.

"What made you think of that song?" Eddie asks, eyes big and bright, almost shiny.

"You hum it all the time," Steve answers, "under your breath. Like it's soothing."

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's neck, pulling him tighter. Harder. Closer. They're on their knees, so that kind of hurts, but Steve refuses to let him go as Eddie whispers, "It was my mom's favorite song. She'd sing it to me at night."

"Kind of a sad lullaby," Steve says, and Eddie smiles.

"I was kind of a sad little boy," Eddie admits, and Steve runs his hands up and down Eddie's back.

"Well," Steve says, pressing his lips to Eddie's briefly, "if you'll let me, I'm gonna make sure you're not a sad adult."

Eddie kisses him hard at that, and Steve really will. Even if it takes his whole damn life. 

"I'll definitely let you. For a long, long time," Eddie echoes, the beginnings of a promise.

And Steve will take that deal.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!t

The title is from the Linda Ronstadt song of the same name.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! Hope ur doing great! First of all, I really love your fics! I think you're really talented.

I have a request, if it's not too much trouble. I can't stop thinking about a Steve w/head trauma (so, maybe migraine prone, memory issues, etc) and a DM Eddie that still resents Steve from high school. Eddie doesn't know Steve struggles with the complications of his concussions, so he keeps judging him for it. Say, for example, Steve got a terrible migraine and couldn't pick the kids up from Dnd and Eddie thinks he's probably at a party and stood them up. Then Eddie finds out, maybe from Steve himself or a Party member or Steve's parents. (If you could somehow sneak in Steve's parents being good caring parents for one, it'd be really cool.) Eddie apologizes and they start getting closer. And, yeah, that's all. Thank you!!!

We know I love writing Steve with a migraine. Not to jinx anything, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had one myself so I'm sure the torture I put him through here will have instant karma and I will wake up with one. Is it realistic for Eddie to pretty much fall instantly in love with a man he hated the night before? No. Do I write realistic stories? No. Buckle up for the fastest burn you can possibly read today! - Mickala ❤️

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Steve Harrington was late.

Not just a few minutes late, not like he maybe got held up at a light for an extra two minutes, not like he had to stop for gas.

He was 25 minutes late.

Eddie was pissed.

He didn’t mind hanging out with the kids longer, wouldn’t have even minded if he’d just been given a heads up that Steve would be late.

A phone call.

A fucking letter by pigeon.

Anything.

Dustin seemed worried, more than anyone else, though the later it got, the more Lucas and Will and Mike seemed to worry too.

And Eddie would maybe worry too, except he knew what was happening.

He knew because it’s all he ever expected of Steve.

Steve probably went to a party, thought he could make his rounds, maybe have a drink and sober up in time to come get the kids.

And then he probably got bribed into having another drink, maybe smoke a joint in the backyard of whatever rich kid’s house he was visiting, maybe have a shot with a group of kids who liked to spend their time bullying the very kids he was supposed to be picking up.

Maybe fuck a girl in a bedroom upstairs until he was too tired and just passed out on top of her.

He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Maybe we could try to call his house again?” Lucas asked.

“He didn’t answer the first four times, why would he now?” Mike asked, though his eyes kept scanning the road into the trailer park, searching for headlights that wouldn’t appear.

And wasn’t that just the last straw for Eddie? Watching his favorite gremlins admire and respect someone who couldn’t even remember to pick them up? Watching them expect so much from a guy who peaked in high school, who didn’t care about them if it hindered his plans?

“You guys wait here,” he said, his hands shaking with anger.

“Where are you going?” Will asked.

“To call Robin. If anyone will know what’s up, she will,” he replied.

It was late, but not too late for a phone call between adults.

“Buckley residence, you’ve got Robin,” Robin answered the phone with a bored tone.

“Any clue why your best friend is 30 minutes late to pick the kids up from my house?” He tried not to sound angry at her, it wasn’t her fault.

But he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand what band nerd, lesbian, nice person Robin could possibly see in Steve.

Sure, he carted the kids around a lot, and had helped Wayne out with Eddie’s medical stuff after Vecna, but it felt like he did it out of guilt more than anything else.

“He’s never late,” she said, her tone sharp, defensive. “You sure he knew they needed rides?”

“Positive. I heard him yell to them when he dropped them off that he’d see them in three hours.”

Robin didn’t respond for a minute, and he almost thought the line went dead.

“Has Dustin tried the walkie?” She finally asked.

“Yeah. No answer.”

“Shit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wanna fill me in here, Buckaroo?”

“Um. Can you bring the kids home? I gotta go check on him.”

Before he could respond, the dial tone let him know she was already gone.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

He hung up the phone and grit his teeth together.

The problem wasn’t taking the kids home, he really didn’t mind and had told them on multiple occasions that he could so they didn’t have to rely on Steve to do it.

The problem was that they had relied on Steve and he let them down.

He hated that he’d have to go out there and tell them that Steve wasn’t coming.

He hates Steve for the way he would have to watch their faces fall, for the way they’d ride to their homes in silence.

He hated Steve for the fact that he’d probably buy them all ice cream tomorrow to apologize and they’d all rely on him again.

All would be forgiven.

———————————-

The next morning, he tried calling Robin and got no answer.

He tried calling Dustin and got no answer, though he wasn’t as surprised by that since he’d already been considering going to the Sinclairs’ to spend the weekend since his mom was working.

He tried Steve’s house and got an answering machine. Twice.

He considered leaving a scathing message, but didn’t want to risk one of his parents hearing it and deleting it.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself before he grabbed his keys and decided to drive to Steve’s house.

He was a little surprised to actually see Steve’s car in the driveway, half expecting him to still be passed out at some stranger’s house.

Before he could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Robin’s wide eyes were silently begging him to stay quiet.

She looked exhausted, a little flustered, more stressed than he’d seen in a long time.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Maybe Steve drank more than he should’ve, maybe he wasn’t actually home and she was trying to find him still.

“Come in but be quiet. He’s finally sleeping,” she said, already walking back into the house.

He followed, closing the door behind him and giving his surroundings a quick look.

Everything looked perfect as usual except for Robin’s shoes by the door and her backpack open on the floor by the couch.

The couch that Steve was currently passed out on, blankets almost completely covering his head, ice pack resting over his eyes.

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“Hangover?” He whispered to Robin.

She looked at him confused.

“No? He hasn’t drank in nearly a year.”

If Eddie didn’t have more control over his body, his jaw would’ve dropped.

“Oh. Um. So is he sick?” Eddie tried to gather up his thoughts, glancing over at the sleeping form on the couch.

He noticed the curtains closed and no lights turned on, noticed the complete silence in the house except for the sound of a fan running in the corner.

“He gets migraines. I thought you knew,” she said.

Eddie shook his head.

“He’s had a lot of head trauma. Gets migraines that make it impossible to even sit up sometimes. I guess he was fighting it most of the day yesterday but after he dropped the kids off with you, he passed out in the shower and barely was able to crawl to his bed after. When you called me, I kind of assumed the worst, so I came straight here and saw him naked and shivering in bed, not able to get up to get dressed or even get the covers on. Got him dressed, got him water and meds, called his parents, tried to help him eat. He spent almost an hour throwing up after that. Then he cried because he forgot the kids. Memory problems happen with the head trauma, too. I couldn’t calm him down until about an hour ago.”

Eddie let himself feel the guilt he deserved for thinking the worst of Steve.

Steve didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Eddie whispered, his voice broken thinking about how Steve had been alone here, probably scared when he was curled up in his bed unable to move.

“No. His parents are on their way. If it’s not better tomorrow, they’ll probably take him to his neurologist,” Robin responded.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

A whimper came from the couch, causing Robin to tense and hold her breath.

Eddie looked over and waited to see if maybe Steve was completely awake or if he’d just made a noise in his sleep.

After a few seconds, Robin relaxed, and he felt a breath leave his body.

“How often does this happen?” he whispered as she went to grab a drink from the fridge.

“This bad? Once a month or so. He sometimes has some memory problems without the migraine, but luckily he snaps back quickly,” she shrugged, acted as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Eddie could see right through her.

“And you help him a lot?”

“Well, his parents travel a lot for work, and he can’t always call them or remember how to contact them when it’s this bad, so yeah. I tend to be the one to take care of him until they can get here,” she said.

Eddie chewed on a piece of his hair, glancing over towards the couch every few seconds.

He was surprised this hadn’t come up before.

He was even more surprised that none of the kids had mentioned this as a possibility last night.

“Why didn’t the kids mention it last night when I was pissed?” he finally asked.

“Steve doesn’t really tell anyone. Like, the kids know, but they’ve never actually seen it, and so I think they just kinda forget. He doesn’t wanna bother them with it.”

“That’s stupid, they care about h-”

The front door started to open and a woman peeked her head inside.

Robin ran over as quickly and quietly as she could and Eddie stood awkwardly behind the couch as a middle aged woman walked into the house.

A man followed a few seconds after, a bag in hand.

“Is he asleep?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied before explaining much of what she’d already told Eddie to them.

The Harringtons looked surprisingly put together for a couple who probably hadn’t slept all night and most likely had flown home from somewhere as quickly as they could. They also looked nothing like what Eddie expected.

Mr. Harrington was bald, age spots on his head giving away that he must have been quite a few years older than Mrs. Harrington. She had the same color hair as Steve, same voluminous style, cut just above the shoulders. They both wore glasses, and both of them were wearing business attire like they’d rushed back directly from a meeting.

“And who is this?” he heard Mr. Harrington ask, gesturing towards Eddie.

He walked over and put his hand out to shake, trying to remember the best manners he could.

“I’m Eddie, a friend of Steve’s.”

He could feel Robin staring at him, but didn’t turn towards her. Instead, he shook Mrs. Harrington’s hand and then offered to help with any other bags they have.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We can get them later. Since he’s asleep, we’re gonna go freshen up a bit and then you can head on home. Thank you for taking care of him, Robin. You know we appreciate you so much,” Mrs. Harrington said as she hugged her.

“It’s never a problem. Take your time,” she said.

“I’ll stay, Robin. You should go home and sleep,” Eddie offered before he could think about what he was offering.

“You’ll stay? With Steve?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He seems pretty out of it so I’m sure he won’t even wake up before they’re done,” Eddie said, hopeful that he was right.

“Alright, my mom should be here in a few minutes anyway. She was bringing me a change of clothes in case I ended up staying today, so she can just bring me home,” Robin said hesitantly.

“Okay.”

The Harringtons nodded and walked upstairs without another word, most likely too tired to care much about who stayed with Steve as long as he was being looked after.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this,” Robin said when they were gone.

“I know. But I’m the only one here who slept last night, I can handle it for a bit.”

“He can be…kind of a lot,” she sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t like saying something negative about him at all.

“It’s fine. If he’s in this much pain, then it’s understandable.”

Robin looked him over for a moment, something like understanding finally showing on her face. He didn’t know what she was understanding, but he was just grateful she didn’t seem to want to talk more.

She started zipping up her backpack, putting on her shoes, and whispering some basic instructions to Eddie in case Steve woke up.

“Replace the ice pack, don’t let him try to move off the couch by himself and only if he has to use the bathroom. The bucket at the end of the couch is if he gets sick. He needs water if you can try to help him drink some, and if he thinks he can stomach it, there’s some crackers on the coffee table. He’s due for more meds in two hours, but you probably won’t be here for that,” she rambled off.

Eddie nodded along, mentally making a to-do list.

“You’re sure you got it? He sometimes isn’t able to talk.”

Jesus Christ, how had he never noticed this? Was he that oblivious to what Steve was going through?

“I got it.”

He could hear a car pull into the driveway and Robin opened the door to leave.

“If you need me, call me. The Harringtons will probably be as quick as possible, but just in case,” she begged him.

“Okay.”

She left and closed the door behind her quietly, leaving Eddie staring at it for a minute.

He heard a small whimper from the couch and he rushed over, looking down at Steve.

The ice pack had fallen off his face, and his eyes were scrunched closed like he was still suffering even in his sleep.

Eddie leaned over to pick up the ice pack, ready to trade it out with a fresh one, when one of Steve’s eyes opened.

He froze and looked at him, hoping he would go back to sleep quickly.

“Eds?”

Shit.

He’d started calling him Eds in the hospital, always walking into his room with a bright smile and a ‘hey, Eds’ that had Eddie cracking a small smile.

He hadn’t heard it since then.

“Yeah?” he finally responded, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

He knew when Wayne got headaches, he was very sensitive to noise.

“Hurts,” Steve whimpered out.

Eddie’s heart shattered in his chest.

He walked closer to the couch and knelt down on his knees, placing a hand on Steve’s forehead.

“I know, Stevie. You wanna try to have a sip of water for me?” He whispered.

“No, hurts.”

“Might help,” Eddie tried to bribe him.

But Steve’s eyes were closed again, and even though he wasn’t asleep, he was making it very clear that he couldn’t quite handle keeping them open right now.

Eddie gently ran his fingers back and forth across his forehead, down his nose, along his temples, smiling as Steve’s wrinkles seemed to disappear, his face relaxing slowly.

“Go back to sleep, Stevie,” he whispered.

“Mhm,” Steve let out before he seemed to actually fall back asleep.

—------------------------------

Eddie didn’t move from his spot for nearly 45 minutes, even when his legs went numb and his hand started cramping.

Steve hadn’t so much as snored, so Eddie didn’t want to risk any movement waking him up.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Harrington asked him, startling him slightly.

“No, thank you,” Eddie responded as quietly as possible.

“Are you the Eddie from the hospital? The one he insisted on visiting every day?” she asked as she sat down on the coffee table right next to him.

“Um, yes ma’am,” he knew he sounded nervous.

“Oh, so you boys worked it all out? He promised he’d tell me if you said yes!” she smiled at him.

“Worked…what out?”

Her eyes widened.

“Your feelings! Steve told us he was going over to your house the day you got out of the hospital and telling you how he felt,” she explained, sounding somewhat unsure now.

Eddie felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor.

“He what?”

“Oh dear,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was wrong.”

Eddie saw Mr. Harrington walk into the kitchen from his spot on the floor, felt the tension in the air as Mrs. Harrington tried to change the subject quickly.

But he wasn’t going to stop thinking about what she meant.

Steve had had feelings for him? Like, more than a friend feelings?

Steve let out a small groan in his sleep, shifting his head a bit.

Eddie tried to shush him a bit, running his fingers gently through his hair, careful not to catch on any tangles.

He could feel Mrs. Harrington watching, but she didn’t say anything else until Steve seemed to calm again.

“You know, Steve came out to us in March. Said he’d met a guy who was worth the risk. We love him, we always will, but we were very worried. I think any parent worries when their child, even their grown ones, says they’re in love with someone. In this case, we didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even liked men. And Steve here tends to fall fast and fall hard and forgets to wear a parachute before the jump.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, his head filled with the way she’d called his feelings love.

“But I think I see now that he didn’t need one. I think he had you jumping with him and you remembered the parachute for him.”

He turned to look at her, her fond smile pointed at them both as he continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair.

She got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Eddie to think about what she said.

That’s all he did for a while.

—---------------------------------------

The next time Steve woke up, he was slightly more coherent, but still didn’t want to eat or drink.

Mrs. Harrington had gone to lay down for a nap while Mr. Harrington was finishing up something in his office. They both told him to come find them if Steve woke up and needed something.

At some point, Eddie had rested his head against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat loudly against his ear.

“Eddie?”

No, why Eddie again? Why not Eds?

“Hey, Stevie,” he lifted his head and spoke just above a whisper. “How about a few sips of water?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’ll help.”

Robin had been kind enough to find a straw for the cup of water she’d gotten before she left, so Eddie just held it up close to Steve’s lips and told him to sip.

Steve did manage a few sips before he shook his head and started to turn away.

“It’s time for more meds. Wanna take them?” Eddie asked.

“Bed?”

“Um.”

“Carry me.”

Eddie let out a small laugh at the demanding tone in Steve’s voice.

Even through the pain, and exhaustion, and struggle of speaking, he sounded like a drama queen.

Eddie might love him.

“Won’t that hurt?”

“A little.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay here?”

“Wanna cuddle.”

Oh.

“Uh. With…your mom?”

“You.”

Eddie was going to pass out.

There was no way he’d be able to carry Steve up the stairs to his room and then cuddle with him, and pretend he wasn’t feeling the overwhelming urge to propose marriage.

These new feelings kicked in too fast for him to process and he knew cuddling wouldn’t help.

“Please?” Steve asked, his eyes squinting slightly from what little light was making it through the curtains.

“Okay, but don’t laugh when I get out of breath.”

Steve didn’t respond, or really do anything to acknowledge what Eddie said, but he was pretty sure Steve’s head hurt too much to laugh anyway so he took a chance.

He removed the blankets on top of him and managed to pick him up relatively easily.

The walk to the stairs wasn’t bad.

The walk up the stairs was rough for a couple reasons: One, Eddie was out of shape and Steve weighed roughly the same as him. Two, Steve kept whimpering in pain with every step.

When they finally reached his bedroom, Eddie was panting and Steve had a couple tears falling from his eyes.

“I sure hope the cuddling lives up to expectations after that,” Eddie tried to joke.

“Worth it,” Steve sighed.

He set Steve in his bed first, made sure the fan in the room was on and the curtains were shut, then got into his bed.

People dreamed for most of high school to be in this position, but Eddie hadn’t let himself picture it.

He wouldn’t have ever pictured this scenario anyway.

Steve was sweaty, almost like he was running a fever, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him from scooting closer and moving Steve into his arms.

They both fell asleep in minutes, Eddie’s fingers wrapped up in Steve’s hair.

—----------------------------------------

When Eddie woke again, it was pitch black in the room.

Steve was also awake.

“Stevie? You need something? Feeling any better?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, and Eddie considered running to get one of his parents, when he finally spoke up.

“A little. Thanks”

Eddie let out a breath and relaxed back against the pillows under him.

“You can go if you want,” Steve nearly whispered into the darkness.

Eddie tensed again as he looked over at Steve, who was playing with the blanket covering him in his hands, not looking at Eddie.

“And if I don’t want to?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to hold Steve’s.

“I know you hate me, so. You can go.”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Eddie couldn’t let him think he hated him, even though up until this morning, he thought he did.

“Stevie, lay down and look at me.”

Steve, surprisingly, listened and Eddie felt a tug at his heart that Steve was willing to listen to him that easily.

Eddie cupped Steve’s jaw, gentle in case of any lingering migraine pains.

“I don’t hate you. I think I realized that maybe I had my own feelings wrong for a long time,” he admitted.

“What?”

“The best part of my days in the hospital were when you visited. Wayne used to make fun of me when you left for being stuck in the hospital for longer because I was lovesick. And when I got home and you didn’t come visit unless you were bringing the kids by, I just kinda thought it meant things were back to normal. King Steve didn’t need to be nice anymore, his charity case was safe and mostly healed,” Eddie stopped Steve from interrupting at that, scared to lose his train of thought. “So I went back to hating you. It’s easier to hate someone when your heart’s broken, ya know? And I just assumed you were the same Steve I thought you always were. But then I realized that you never really were the Steve I thought you were. And especially now, you’re a guy who deserves kindness and care and love. I’d really like the chance to give that to you.”

He felt Steve’s face getting wet and he brushed his thumbs back and forth to wipe away the tears falling.

“I was going to tell you the day you got out of the hospital,” Steve said, voice trembling.

“Tell me what?”

“That I loved you.”

The world stopped spinning, Eddie would bet money on it.

“You did?”

“I did.” Steve gulped. “I do.”

“You do?”

“You’re a hard person to fall out of love with, Munson.”

It was Eddie’s turn to cry, a few tears falling from his eyes onto the pillowcase below.

“So…”

“So?” Steve asked.

“Is the headache better? I’d really like to kiss you,” Eddie said.

“It’s good enough for a kiss. Might even work better than the meds,” Steve’s smirk could be seen even in the darkness.

Eddie didn’t need to wait for more permission than that.

He was gentle, of course. Just because his migraine had gotten better, didn’t mean he was ready to make out.

He gave him a couple soft pecks on the lips, smiling when he felt Steve smiling against him.

“I think you’re probably pretty easy to fall in love with, Harrington.”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.

“Yeah, might be a new record for me.”

“I’ve been told it’s very sexy when I’m suffering through a migraine,” Steve joked.

“You have no idea,” Eddie joked back.

They stayed in bed all night, Steve eventually falling back asleep again.

Eddie stayed awake though, memorizing the shape of Steve’s body with his fingers, or at least what he could reach while he held him.

They could talk more tomorrow, when Steve’s migraine fully subsided.

But Eddie knew what he wanted now, and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about someone.

[natureboy96]

Rhysand is Tamlin's abuser

I've been enjoying crackshipping and fun posts for the past few months, it's far more pleasant to interact within fandom this way I've found, but this thought came to me last night and it won't leave my head, so I simply have to go for another rant/long post about it.

The discussion about what happens Under the mountain is largely focused on what happens to Feyre, which is understandable as she's the POV character; the problem is, what happens there isn't about Feyre at all. Everything UtM is designed to break Tamlin, especially torturing Feyre. And Rhysand is a large part of that.

While Rhysand is sexually assaulting Feyre, he's also psychologically torturing Tamlin. Can you imagine how horrible it would be, being forced watch and witness this fragile human you've come to love, being turned into a sexual prop and toy, forced to dance and drink and vomit and dance again, every night for months on end, knowing that the slightest twitch could end up killing someone you care about, or hurting Feyre even worse? I wouldn't put it past Amarantha to leave Feyre with a few less limbs if Tamlin grimaced.

And the thing is, Rhysand not only knows that he's hurting Tamlin, but that he's doing it intentionally. He explains fully that he wants to protect Feyre, yes, but also that he wanted to make Tamlin suffer, to make him feel hate and pain. All those horrors that Rhysand drugs Feyre, so she doesn't have to witness it and be scarred by it? Tamlin has no choice but to look, and not react, and Rhysand knows it. Tamlin doesn't know anything about Rhysand's "evil mask" during and after UtM and only sees him for how he presented himself; a sexual predator who worked as hard as Amarantha did to break him, and continued to trigger his trauma after they were free.

But Rhysand has a grudge for what Tamlin did to his family, yeah? A grudge he's been holding on to for at most over four centuries (due to the lack of dates and timelines, the only clues we get for when things went down between their families was that it was after the war 500 years ago, and a few years after Tamlin "matures" as Rhys says it, which could be as early as Tam being 18 or 19) And that he doesn't know all the details about! a grudge he's had centuries to try and find out the truth about, but that he's chosen to assume the worst about Tamlin instead, and that ended with Tamlin's family dead in retaliation.

Rhysand being angry for what happened to his family (after getting revenge in retaliation) does not justify months of psychological torture.

And then in ACOMAF, instead of taking any accountability for the pain he caused either of them, he at most justifies how he treated Feyre, and entirely ignores the pain he caused Tamlin. Worse yet, he goes on to villainize Tamlin for dealing poorly with his PTSD, trauma that he had a direct hand in causing, and actively antagonizes him further to make it worse!

Tamlin should be held accountable for the pain he caused Feyre, and I would argue he pays for it well more than his actions warrant. Rhysand never takes or is held accountable for any of the pain he causes, not to Tamlin or Feyre (and later not to Nesta either). Beyond feeling bad in a monologue or again justifying his actions when confronted by the High Lords, he never has to answer for the harm he's caused and its handwaved away almost immediately on being addressed.

Rhysand and Tamlin hurt each others' families, Rhysand abuses Tamlin, who later abuses Feyre, who later abuses Tamlin back, and then the Night Court abuses Nesta, after she abused Feyre when they were poor and starving. It's just a cycle of abuse, but only some characters ever pay any actual, tangible price for it.

All of this is to say, I have found myself having far more sympathy for Tamlin reacting poorly to his PTSD than the person who gave it to him with psychological torture and then villainized him for it.

[daisybianca]

pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: lewis gives you secretly his number. you're hesitant to call him at first, but when you do, things get a little much more interesting.

warnings: sexual activities, cursing words

(a/n): this is the last part! here's part one and part two.

YOU CHUCKLED AS Lewis excused himself to bring some more wine for the two of you.

You got more comfortable on the couch and fixed the silk material of your clothing.

When he came back, he filled your glass and then his.

"What do you do for a living?" He asked before taking his seat next to you once again.

"I'm a journalist." You answered, taking a small sip from the delicious liquid. "A sports journalist."

Lewis' eyes narrowed. "Formula one?"

"Nope," you said. "Basketball."

You noticed that he rolled his eyes. "Pity."

"What? You wanted me interviewing you, sir Lewis Hamilton?"

You caught a glimpse of something in his eyes as he smiled, bitting his lips before talking. "Maybe," he said, drinking from his wine and looking vacantly somewhere behind you. "That'd be very... very torturing." He said, his voice almost barely above a whisper.

"What was that?!" You laughed, your hands flying in the air. "What was that?!" You repeated again.

"Nothing." He said, smiling widely.

You studied his look. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Trying to." He answered, and you noticed that his hands were rested on the couch, just behind the area of your neck and head. "Does it work?" He looked up at you as he took another sip.

You bit your lips and felt that you were inevitably blushing. Looking at your nervous hands, circling the glass, you noticed his lap and the tattoos on the flesh of it.

It was very... very rideable.

"Maybe," you said, then a thought kicked in. "You promised you'd tell me why I was the chosen one at the race. I'm all ears."

Lewis cleared his throat. "You really want me to tell you?"

"If it doesn't involve some kind of a bet, yes, please,"

"A bet?" His nose wrinkled in something that looked like disguist. "Fuck, I'm not that kind of man."

"Tell me, Lewis." Your mind was in a haze, your thoughts blurred by his pretty eyes, so your hand found the soft flesh of his upper arm.

His eyes detected your hand for a brief moment and then smiled.

Lewis discreetly moved his white shirt lower on his body. Maybe to fix it in order not to look wrinkled or... to hide something, maybe?

"I just..." he started. "I saw you. You didn't even look at me at first."

"Yeah, because I was trying to find my best friend who was hooking up with a McLaren mechanic." You explained, and Lewis expression changed into pure curiosity.

"Okay, I presume I don't need to know more about that," he chuckled. "I just--I just genuinely thought to myself for a brief moment that you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

Your knees weakened, and thank God, you were seated.

"I love it when you're blushing." He grinned and wouldn't take his eyes off your hot face. "It just makes the color of your eyes stand out more."

Silence.

You tried to change the topic. "You never signed my hat, by the way." You said.

"Do you want me to bring a pen? I can sign your hand if you want."

You smiled. "Yeah, whatever."

Lewis left and came back with a pen and a white shirt in his hands. He passed the shirt to you, but you didn't take it at first.

"What's that?" You wondered.

"A pumpkin." He said sarcastically and looked down at you. "What does it look like, love?"

"Oh, no, no." You shook your head negatively. "You're not gifting me one of your shirts."

He laughed and tossed the white material to you. "Why not? It's officially been worn by me."

"And?"

Lewis thought for a brief moment. "You can wear it at home and think about me." His eyes lit up.

"I--I can't accept it, I'm sorry." You tried to give it back to him but he grabbed your wrist.

"Put it on."

"What?" Your eyes narrowed.

He looked you with that intense, dark gaze. "Put it on." He repeated, comanding.

"Why?"

He smiled. "So I can sign it."

You knew where this was going, but you wanted to tease him a little.

"You can sign it unworn as well, you know."

"Yeah, but the shiet wouldn't be stretched enough, and the signature would come out bad-looking." Lewis insisted and passed the shirt to you.

You finally grabbed it. "Fine."

Shoving your hair to one side, you carefully pushed the material around your head and then let it wrap around your curves, covering the pink dress underneath.

You immediately got knocked out by a faniliar cologne. Gosh, this aroma would hunt you forever.

"Looks perfect on you." Lewis said and opened a black marker.

You noticed him biting his lip.

He.

Bit.

His.

Fucking.

Lip.

"Where do you want me to sign it exactly?" He asked, looking at you.

"I don't know." You replied, scanning the shirt for any empty space. "Maybe somewhere free of stamps and letters."

"Hmm..." He looked at your shirt, leaning forward. His eyes were practically on your tits.

"Here," you suggested, signaling to a spot on your chest, near your heart.

Lewis shallowed and looked up to face you. "Are you sure?"

"About what?"

His voice was soft. "Having my hands on you."

You smiled.

That man was literally perfection itself. "No problem. Go on."

He breathed in and then out. Then, his left hand found the area of your shoulder and grabbed it gently for resistance.

You stopped looking at him and knew he had started making the signature when a sharp thing touched your covered flesh.

"Is this okay?" Lewis' voice sounded a few seconds later. "Does it hurt?"

"Jesus, Lewis, it's just a damn marker!" You laughed, but he didn't seem to enjoy your comment.

He was done with the signature, you could tell. He was now writing something on your shirt. Even if you did want to read it, you couldn't. It was upsides down, and Lewis was also covering it up with his free hand as if it were a test and you were about to cheat.

His expressionless beautiful features didn't betray much of his thoughts.

You breathed and hoped that the brave side in you would kick in soon.

"What are you thinking of?" You blurted out before even fully considering what you were about to mouth.

Lewis clicked the marker shut and looked at you. "Nothing."

"Something must have been in your mind whole you were signing the shirt." You explained. "Tell me." You insisted with puppy eyes. "Please?"

He shallowed. Hard. "You want me to tell you the naked truth?"

"What are you scared of?" You eyes narrowed, and you grabbed your phone, opening the camera and reading what was now written on your freshly owned shirt.

His signature.

A heart and...

"With much love, Lewis."

Lewis' lips formed a thin line, and he scratched his almost nonexistent beard. "I'm scared of what might happen after this."

You chuckled, pushing the white clothing off you with a slow movement. "Just tell me, Lewis."

A fee moment of silence passed with Lewis studying you and you fixing your messy hair and dress.

"Honestly, I--" he started.

"Just tell me already!"

"You want me to tell you?" His voice rised dangerously.

"Yes!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you fucking don't, love." He insisted.

"I'm telling you I d--"

Your words were interrupted by his lips crushing hard with yours. Your tongues fought in a messy but also loud battle, and before you knew it, you were on top of him on the couch, your hands around his neck. His his left one was rested on your back, caressing the flesh there before cupping your eyes and giving it a squeeze, while the other was bringing you closer by touching your cheek.

"Lewis, I--" You breathed, trying to create some space between your bodies and faces.

He wouldn't let you go.

"I was thinking about how much I'd like to fuck you in that shirt."

His kiss had left you breathless, but his statement had left you something that wasn't currently in an official dictionary. Something that had just been added to your own vocabulary.

Wetful.

Gosh, is that even a word?

His lap was a great seat, you thought.

Lewis must have sensed your nervousness. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said th--"

"Lewis, grab me the shirt." You commanded, and his dark brown eyes found yours.

He did as he was told.

"Put it on me."

He smirked and did as he was told once again.

You were soaked underneath your underwear, you could tell. He could probably feel it on his lap too.

"Wanna know what I am thinking now?" You asked, breathless as his lips touched your neck and kept teasing and teasing.

He knew when to kiss you, where to kiss you, when to touch you, where to touch you...

This man could make any woman happy.

"Tell me."

"Fuck me in this shirt." You fixed the clothing to cover the area of your thighs. It was large enough to become a dress.

His big hands found your waist and rested there. Then his one hand found your ass and he squeezed it as if he was the owner of it.

"Done." Lewis said.

"Okay, but it won't be pretty." You stopped him just when he started kissing you again. "It might end up having white spots on it after you're done with me."

His fingers touched your lips, and you took the chance to playfully dig your teeth gently on one of them.

"Oh, love... I can give you a hundred of those, and they'd still wouldn't be enough with all those things I'm thinking about doing with you." Lewis smirked, and you took his two fingers in your mouth, savoring the taste of it as if it were a colorful lollipop. "Besides, I assure you that I don't want it to be pretty. I want it to be rough."

His lips collapsed with yours, and you teased, leaning away one last time. "Okay, but do me a favor."

"Anything for you, baby."

You smiled softly. "Keep calling me your love."

[mockerycrow]

Undercover IV (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — previous | next

Summary: You have a rocky introduction with John Price and you continue your interview, despite a certain someone’s hesitant protests. You finally have your dreaded psych evaluation while your stress reaches it’s peak.

A/N: considering this is a reboot timeline + Makarov is only vaguely mentioned in mw2, i’m taking inspo from og mw and adding my own spices. and holy shit why was this so difficult to complete??? i also apologize for this taking so long, i live where the smoke from the canadian fires dragged across and my chest hurts. update: russian was corrected!

[WARNINGS: flashbacks, Price is a bit of an ass but trust me, vague descriptions of torture and murder, angst.]

“I learned from him that often contradiction is the clearest way to truth.” -Patti Smith.

“We need to get your head on straight.”

That’s what Price said, and I don’t know what about how he said it made me mad, but oh boy, did it fucking piss me off. “What?”

“We need to get your head on straight,” He repeats, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’s wearing his tactical vest, dawning a U.K. badge. I eye his gear before making eye contact with him again and he continues. “We can’t afford to sit around, we need that intel. We have reasonable suspicion Makarov will move on with his plans quicker than we anticipated.” My nose scrunches up a little bit as he’s basically avoiding saying it without saying that he’s avoiding it. “You want me to continue with the interview.” I say it like a statement and not a question because all three of us know it’s not a question.

“Price, that isn’t a good idea,” Soap says, his voice considerably alarmed. He grinds his teeth together because he knows my reaction to just fucking closing my eyes while talking about it was extremely concerning. “I know it isn’t, but we don’t have a choice,” Price mutters before pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. He looks at me with a pointed look, eyes flickering over my body in confliction.

I mimic his look because as much as I would love time to calm down, I know what he’s saying is true. If they truly have reasonable suspicion that Makarov is going to advance in his plans early, they need what I learned.

Fuck, man..

“Okay.” I move the pillow around on my lap. “Let’s do it?”

Soap’s head snaps towards me, eyebrows furrowed. “What? You’re agreein’ to it??” I look back at him with a frustrated look and I can feel myself wanting to explode. “What choice do I have? Not say anything and risk peoples lives, or have a little freak out and no one dies—except maybe for him?”

The room goes silent except for the beeping of the machines and Soap sighs, taking the recorder out of his front pocket. Price remains on his side of the bed but this time finds a chair, pulls it around and sits down. His hands stay on the armrests. I glance at Soap who presses a button and holds it a bit away from himself. “This is Sergeant John MacTavish, Callsign Soap, this is day two interviewing Sergeant [Name] [Last Name] of the Eclipse Task Force.” Soap hesitates to say the next part, his eyes tracing him face as he mutters. “Last subject was Makarov’s ‘entry tests’ and ‘loyalty tests’.”

I feel my stomach collapse in on itself, tightening into a painful knot. I know this was coming eventually, even if I didn’t want it to. “Yeah, uh..” I trail off, averting my eyes to stare at something, anything but the two men looking to me for answers. “After two months of living in Russia, I got into contact with Makarov. It was completely by accident too, I was just trying to collect information about him, seem like I was interested and then I was.. picked up.“ I pause for a moment before continuing. “I had to build up a reputation, something that made it look like I didn’t pop up in this city out of the blue, y’know?”

“Мы не используем здесь его имя.” We do not use his name here. “Секретность должна быть сохранена, не так ли?” Secrecy must be kept, right?

There’s a hood over my head and my heart is pounding inside of my chest—I could die, right here and right now and nobody would know. I could fail this entire mission right at this moment and that’s fucking terrifying. I twist my wrists ever so slightly, not in an attempt to get away, but I can’t help but check out tight the rope is. I’m surprised they didn’t use handcuffs. I blink rapidly as my eyes burn a bit, trying to properly adjust to the bright light above me.

I look around and I’m in a warehouse with two men—neither of them being the man I want, but one of them is Sergei Orlov, one of the men I had been tracking since I’ve gotten here.

The intel suggests he has close connects to Makarov, indicating that he may be in a right-hand man type of situation. That’s the position I’m trying to bury my way into. Sergei’s eyes are sharp and intimidating, the color being a deep, cerulean blue with dashes of green near his pupils.

There is absolutely no light in them, no positive emotion—I didn’t expect to see any, but it makes me wonder if Makarov’s eyes are the same? Will I be able to get close enough to see?

“Мы наблюдаем за тобой уже несколько недель. Ты пытаешься предать свою страну и начать войну. Почему?” We have been watching you for several weeks now. You are trying to betray your country and start a war. Why?

My fingers twitch as I offer a scoff, a snarl curling at my lips, like I’m snapping at another dog. Of course, I show no disrespect. I need this to be perfect. “Вы не представляете, что этот мир сделал со мной, люди, которые в нем живут, сделали со мной.” You have no idea what this world has done to me, the people who live in it have done to me.

Sergei has his hands behind his back as he slowly walks around me, circling me. I keep my eyes on him as much as possible, I’m radiating distrust—trying to keep up the character I’m playing.

“Это правда, я не знаю. Но я точно знаю, что такие, как ты, просто так не появляются.” It's true, I don't know. But I know for sure that people like you don't just appear. I feel my heart drop into my stomach because fuck, man—I thought everything was good?? My backstory, my profile, I didn’t think I had any holes—

“К счастью для тебя, у нас есть сложная викторина для людей, которые, казалось бы, появились из ниоткуда. Чтобы предотвратить явку шпионов, м?” Lucky for you, we have a challenging quiz for people who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. To prevent spies, yes?

I immediately nod in response, brows furrowed, eyes filled with determination. Sergei’s lips curl into a dreadful smile—one that screams “get away from me or else”.

“Хороший.” Good. He unties my bindings, allowing me to rub my wrists. I don’t have a good feeling at all. Sergei grabs my upper arm and has me stand up, and him and the other man lead me out of the warehouse, going to a truck. “Куда мы идем?” Where are we going?

He doesn’t bother to answer me besides motioning me to sit in the back of the car. I hesitate for a moment out of weariness, but I comply. I open the door to the truck and climb into the back and Sergei slides into the back with me. The other man climbs into the driver’s seat. “привод.” Drive.

I can feel myself begin to space out with every word and I can vaguely feel my fingers tightening into a fist. I pause my retelling of events as my train of thought breaks apart, the crawling feeling on my back intensifying. “Hey,” Price’s voice is low. “You with us?” It takes everything inside of my goddamn soul to nod, but God, I wish I wasn’t. I know we’re getting close to the part of my.. atrocities.

My heart jumps inside of my chest and my monitor beeps loudly for a moment. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes—“Hey!”

My eyes snap to Price who has a furrowed brow, annoyance lacing his features. I notice my chest is moving up and down with every harsh breath coming out through my nose. “Focus.” I grit my teeth, my fingernails digging into the palm of my hand. “I’m trying.” I retaliate with a tight voice. I understand they need this information, but they have to understand how hard it is to recount literally every single life taken, innocent ones??

“Clearly you aren’t,” Price scoffs, his lip curling in anger. “You’ve barely started the bloody report, what’s the issue?”

I laugh humorlessly, my eyes going wide. “What—Did you actually just fucking say that?” Soap stands up, putting his hand out towards his captain. “Price, I—“

“Stay out of this, Soap. That’s an order.”

I can feel my bones ache under my harsh clenching of my hand, an angry smile coming to my lips. I feel this weird smoldering feeling in my gut that’s spreading heat across my body and into my limbs. I hear my heart monitor picking up speed. “You have absolutely no fucking idea what I’ve been through—what I’ve had to do!” I’m aware I’m raising my voice, but I honestly cannot bother to give a fuck by now.

Price crosses his arms, glaring down at me. His eyes are scrutinizing and it makes me want to punch the fuckin’ daylights out of him. “You’re right,” He begins. “I have not the foggiest idea because you’ve not said anything of actual value thus far!”

Oh, he wants me to fucking punch him. This man is so fucking asking for me to knock his teeth out. I open my mouth to speak but Price swiftly interrupts me. “What did you have to do, [Name]? Kill a few innocent people? Children, maybe? Did you have to torture them?”

I can feel that hot feeling turn to ice cold in a split second, a ripple of sweat dripping down my temple. “..What?”

Price waves his hand around as a general statement. “So what, you had to gut a few children? That’s nothing. Oh, did you have to keep them alive? Did they force ya to hear their screams, [Name]? Or did you have’to—“

It’s like I don’t have control of myself when I reach forward and snatch the front of Price’s shirt and pulling him near myself, my voice loud and booming, nearly cracking. “YES, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR? DID YOU WANT TO HEAR THE SICK DETAILS OF WHAT I DID?” I take a deep breath, continuing. This fucking rage is flowing through my bones and I just cannot shut myself up—“DID YOU WANT TO HEAR ABOUT HOW I BROKE BONES, INFLICTED WOUNDS AND LEFT PEOPLE TO ROT?”

The room goes silent, aside from my harsh breathing and the beeping from my heart monitor. I lower my voice, but i don’t stop the absolute anger dripping from every word as I speak through clenched teeth. “Every dirty fuckin’ detail is a weight on my goddamn conscience and you don’t seem to understand that, Price.”

The room is eerily silent again and I fucking hate it. I look down at the pillow on my torso as I feel their beady little eyes peering into my soul, judging my every sin. I hear Soap turn the recorder off and I feel hot from embarrassment for a moment because I just realized.. he was recording all of that. Of fucking course.

Before anyone else can say anything, the door to my room opens. I pick my head up and see a woman in business casual clothing with a notebook, pen, and a clipboard. “Hi, my name is Doctor Elaine Stewart, I’ll be conducting this comprehensive psychological and psychiatric evaluation on you today.” Her voice is soft and light like how her hair looks—dark curls that seem to bounce right above her shoulders, her skin is a darker tan too. Her eyes are big, round, and soft. She’s British—I can’t place what region she grew up in, though.

They probably picked her because she would feel less like a threat towards me.

Dr. Stewart turns to the two men, glancing between them. “I’m going to have to ask you two to leave for patient doctor confidentiality purposes.”

Price goes to speak up, but she puts her hand up to stop him. “I’ll call if I need anything, but I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”

I hear Price sigh, but I refuse to look at him. Instead, I look to Soap, who’s peering down at me with concerned eyes. I still don’t get why he’s so concerned.. Or why he’s so quiet, because he really doesn’t seem to be a quiet person. Soap takes his notebook sketchbook thing, murmuring a “see you later” and takes his leave next to his Captain.

Once the door closes, Dr. Stewart smiles at me and walks over to my bed, heels clicking, and then takes a seat. “You know how this goes, yeah? You’ve been in the military for quite some time now.” I nod in response, taking a deep breath. My back is beginning to ache from not getting up or moving.

“Yeah, I know.” I say anyway. I put my hands on the bed and go to use my strength to sit myself up, but immediate tight and bursting pain bubbles where my stitches are. One of my hands fly to my stomach—which is covered by the pillow, followed by a loud curse. Dr. Stewart quickly sits up, alarmed. “Are you alright??”

I nod as I hiss in pain, clenching my jaw in an attempt to distract myself from the pain. “Didn’t realize it would’ve hurt so bad..”

Dr. Stewart nods, leaning over and click a button a few times which raises the back of the bed to a proper sitting up position. I feel my face heat up from embarrassment again. Fuck.

Dr. Stewart holds her clipboard and looks at me. “Have you experienced moments where you felt like you were not in your body?”

I take a moment to think about that. “Yes, but only when I was actively tortured or, er.. uh… did the torturing.” I look away from her and back at my lap, a weird feeling bubbling in my stomach. She takes a moment to write down my answer. “Have you ever felt out of control of yourself?”

I shake my head no—and then I pause. Have I? I shake my head no a second time after thinking.

“Within the last 6 months, have you heard disembodied voices or noises no one else around you could hear?”

“No.”

“Have you ever found yourself back in an event that already happened? Maybe you’re just sitting down and for a moment, you’re back in that warehouse?”

I look at her with a furrowed brow, and I immediately want to deny it, but I can’t. “I mean..” I trail off for a moment. “I don’t.. I don’t hallucinate that I’m back with Makarov’s group, if that’s what you mean.”

Dr. Stewart leans forward a bit, her perfectly painted nails tapping against the clipboard. “Then what do you mean, [Name]?” I swallow the spit in my mouth before speaking, yet it feels like my mouth has gone dry. “I don’t know, all I’m saying is that I don’t experience that.”

She looks at me—why is she staring??—and then she writes something down. “What have you done to them, [Name]?”

My heart skips a beat. “What?”

“I said, what have you experienced? I’m talking about anxiety, maybe dread, everything you’ve felt within the last day.”

Did I.. did I mishear her? She definitely said ‘what did you to them’, right?

“[Name]?”

I blink rapidly and look at her. “Sorry. What?”

Dr. Stewart bites her lower lip for a moment, watching me with worried eyes. “I think it’s best to conclude this evaluation for now. It looks like you’re having a hard time adjusting, so I will check back in with you in a few days.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” My voice is teetering on the edge of anger and I know I shouldn’t be mean, but I feel like my skeleton is trying to shed my skin from how jumpy I feel. “That means I don’t think you’re coherent enough for your interview, nor your evaluation; the one that’ll tell your superiors that you can return, anyway.” She picks her pen up and she begins to write something down—seemingly a longer paragraph. “So.. that means you have a temporary conclusion? Of my psyche?” I ask slowly, and I know that isn’t the right wording, but I’m not sure how else to do it.

Dr. Stewart stands up and begins to collect her things. She sighs and looks at me with.. sympathy?? Pity? I can’t tell. “You just went through something extremely traumatic, [Name]. You’re still in fight or flight. I can’t conduct a proper assessment like this.”

I hold my tongue from barking at her that I’m fine, from telling her to get the fuck out or me making some obscene threat.

I feel my heart sink in my chest because I feel like she’s vaguely suggesting something I cannot handle right now.

🏷️: @hardnutpost @glitterypirateduck @elowynnlane @boycigs @wolfyland07 @escapefromrealitysm @tapioca-marzipan

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am i (FTM 18) the asshole for accidentally telling out friends about how my bf is into CBT? (that's cock and ball torture btw)

So the other day me and my bf's friends were all talking in the group chat we had. My bf is quite a bit older than me so we don't really have the same friends. I'm very open with my friends about my life, even my sex life yeah, though it's all joking. My bf, who I'll call Steve, is decidedly not. He doesn't mind the jokes about it though and we make them with each other and the group chat all the time. ANYWAYS onto the story, we were all talking in the gc and one of my friends made some joke about me needing a dick appointment and i made a joke back about how i needed to be eaten out, kissed and hugged along with the 'dick appointment' and my friend asks if its in that order and i said yes. I jokingly told Steve that we have a new plan for the weekend and he said yes. a second later he says something about how he was gonna say something else but now wasn't going to. Me and my other friend, who I'll call Toby, pestered him about it for a bit until he dmed me telling me it had to be in that order cause he liked eating his cum out of me. 

I screenshotted it and showed it to Toby and we laughed about it for a bit. This isn't the first time I've screenshotted something and sent it to my friend, and Steve knows that. 

Toby jokingly called my boyfriend a freak (which I often do myself, as it’s sort of an inside joke because of the things he’s into.) He then added that he bets Steve would like getting kicked in the balls too, which we both found funny and that prompted me to ask my boyfriend if he’s into it. He immediately knew that I’m asking him to just send it to Toby, but I reassured him that it would stay between us. After a bit of going back and forth between me asking him if he’d be into it and him asking why that’s important, I eventually lied and admitted that I’d like to kick him in the balls just to get an answer out of him. (Btw Toby said that I should just say that *I* want to do it, so that Steve would actually admit if he’s into it or not) Steve was a bit surprised but then he said he’s into CBT. I had no idea how to respond to that, to which Steve got even more suspicious that I’m trying to play a joke on him. I said that’s not true and that I love him and from there on our conversation went a different way. Meanwhile, me and Toby were laughing about it through our DMs, but it was nothing with mean intent. Toby and I joke like that all the time!

Later on, the next day, Steve and I were talking again and he ended up saying something about how if he ever does this one thing, he wanted me to cut his dick off as a joke. The entire message was longer, so I screenshotted it and sent it to the group chat, but I scribbled out the entire message except for when it said “I want you to cut my dick off.” as a joke. Toby and I laughed about it in the groupchat, Steve called me a dick and i jokingly said something like ‘nuh uh, you're into CBT” cause i thought it was obvious everyone else would take it as a joke and toby ended up saying something about how “after yesterday’s conversation, i'm not surprised.” While this conversation was going on, Steve was DMing me telling me to go suck a dick and I said I would go suck one that wasn't his and he told me to have fun. This is also normal for us, to say i was gonna go get fucked by someone else cause then he’d usually fuck the shit out of me and then afterwards we reassure each other that we love eachother and only each other. It's  a sex thing not a toxic thing or something. He wasn't responding back like he normally would and in the moment i thought it was just him pretending to be mad cause he’ll do that sometimes cause i find it hot, but then my friend toby said he would be worried if *his* partner started talking the way Steve was to me, but to him so i got worried and texted him asking if he was alright.

Steve told me that he’s not alright and what I did wasn’t funny. I really thought we were messing around! This wasn’t the first time either of us joked about our kinks with our friends and I thought he was playing along with it the entire time. He told me that he doesn’t find it funny that I asked him such a personal question and then I went to tell Toby and then the rest of the group chat, especially after he thought I was messing with him and I assured him I wasn’t. He told me he wasn’t mad, just hurt, and I suddenly felt really bad for joking about something like that. I explained to him that I wasn’t trying to expose him and I was just joking around. He told me it’s fine, but I still felt very guilty about it, so much so that I began profusely apologizing and even crying at some point because I knew I fucked up real bad. I didn’t feel like I deserved his forgiveness, but he tried reassuring me that I shouldn’t feel so upset about it and that things like that happened all the time. I’m not sure if I could ever forgive myself for making him upset with a joke, but I know that he’s a very forgiving person and he won’t hold it against me even if he was upset.

btw the whole dick appointment joke was cause toby was talking about how he thought i had audhd and i said i needed a therapist then our friends jack said the whole dick appointment thing

ALSO can you tag this with ‼️ /nf just so i can find it later ^^

What are these acronyms?

[jellyfishsthings]

My lips. Your lips. Apocalypse.

Warnings: my shit writing, violence (kinda?)

part 2

I will be the first person to say it. School is boring. And that is a lot since Nevermore is no ordinary school. The only class that is interesting, yet exhausting, is this one. Mrs Smith is sitting across from me. Staring intensely in my eyes, trying to find the weak spot in my mental shield. We have been at it for hours and I have managed to preserve my resolve. Until now. She finally breaks in.

"So what is it about you? You seem quite ordinary to be going to that school." The cute Barnstaple across from me asks. He has nice brown hair that curls at his ears. Deep thoughtful eyes. He is mundane or better yet, ordinary, as he called me. He is perfect. But something about him screams certain danger. Tyler, Tyler Galpin, whom I have come to know as my best friend. My dreamy best friend, who I moon over day and night and constantly plagues my thoughts.

"That is top secret agent type of shit, you can not know" I answered him with a chuckle.

The memory soon fades, as fast as it appeared. I feel my shoulders sag from exhaustion and I try to find sense in the safety of my magical pendant. The one that keeps others at bay while also containing my powers. The one that keeps me safe not only from others but also from myself. Mind control is not easy stuff, you have to be hyperfocus. Do you want to control something or someone? You have to draw all your willpower and pour it into that task. Which is tough shit. Making someone forget or simply reading their thoughts or memories, even manipulating them is now as natural as breathing. Shielding yourself from others with the same powers is the hardest. There aren't many of us but we are more powerful than anyone else. So if you slip up, you are vulnerable to the world.

You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.

My ears are ringing. My mind is reeling. Each breath I take feels like hell. They are uneven, torturous and slow

"Drink this" I feel a cold water bottle touch my bottom lip. I drink the offered water greedily. My vision from hazy slowly starts turning itself clear and I can make out my surroundings again. "Better?" I nod and wait for the lecture to start. "So your shield lasted over two hours. You are strong, you know that, but you can not let yourself get lost in your daydreams. Especially when we are practising ".

"Yeah I know, I know" I heave, still trying to stabilize my breathing.

"Go rest"

I get up slowly. Unsteady on my feet and wandering through the halls while feeling my way in the walls, trailing my fingertips in the cold stoned wall. I enter my dorm and change out of my uniform. Putting on a white oversized shirt, half buttoned and collapsing in my bed.

The hours pass as I am in a half-awake state. Being aware of the room around me, but my organism turns to its usual state. And so I dream. I dream of him. What it would be like to kiss. What it would be like to date.

I am startled awake as my roommate slams the door behind her wake. Wednesday in her usual lack of colour stops in the middle of the room and sharply looks at me. "Good, you are awake".

I sigh rolling my eyes "What do you want?"

"I am going to the house I was telling you about. I might need your help."

"Why?"

"Because you are useful."

"Jee thanks. It feels good to be appreciated. "

The sun has finally set and we walk towards the school's entrance door, where a familiar Jeep awaits. Tyler, he is here. Enid and Wednesday are wearing their matching hoodie scarf things, as usual, I am left out. As usual, Wednesday climbs in the passenger seat, my seat, and Tyler doesn't say a word about that, instead, he flirts with her. He doesn't even greet me or ask about my day, as he used to.

I silently seeth as we arrive at what looks like a haunted manor. We break in and we start wandering through the house trying to find evidence. At some point, we are separated. As I walk into what looks like an old girl's bedroom, I feel a presence behind me, the hair on my neck standing as I grab the nearest object ready to attack.

Yet a strong hand shoots out and stops my blow easily. "Hey there. Be careful, Rockey, you wouldn't want to hit me, now would you?" The breath is knocked out of me. The moonlight hits him just right, highlighting his features, the soft smile, the high cheekbones and sharp jawline. His laughing face turns into one of confusion. He opens his mouth ready to ask me something, when a strange sound echoes through the room.

He grabs me and flushes me to his chest. He places his hand to my mouth and I feel my heart race. I can feel every plain of his body against mine. His defined chest rises and falls in a crazy rhythm, and his hands hold me in place with urgency. We must stay like this for a few seconds or mere minutes but it feels like hours as I try to catalog his characteristics.

"I will go check, it must have been the girls, please stay here."

"What? No, I am coming with you."

"Please." He uses that voice. The one he knows that can convince me to do anything.

So I stay put. Until I see a light shining into the forest. I find myself following it. Threading through the trees and the fallen leaves. Someone moves just out of sight. A knife is thrown my way and I drop to the ground. The figure stalks towards me and as I think that I am doomed. The Hyde makes its appearance, attacking what I assumed to be a man, tiring him to shreds. After it's done it turns my way, snuffing the air as I am frozen in place, terrified to the bone.

The sound of bones breaking fills the air as the monster in front of me turns into a … boy? A familiar one. He is covered in blood and unconscious. I make a quick decision and drag him towards his house, cleaning him up in his bathtub and stitching up the scratch wound on his pecs. Tyler is the Hyde. The Hyde is Tyler. They are one and the same.

I am watching him, studying him while he sleeps. He looks so peaceful yet troubled. I creep towards his father's room and find some handcuffs, thank you Sheriff Galpin, and tie him up in his headboard, waiting till he awakes.

words: 1.154 (there will be a pt.2.... propably?)

[staycalmandhugaclone]

You'll Have to Go Through Me Pt 6

Part 6 of You'll Have to Go Through Me, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

So... just a heads up: this is actually the end of this arc. Aaaand I intend to spend the next week or so working through a couple Asks. Sorry it took so long to get out - feel like I kinda struggled a bit with it, but I do be having some interesting thoughts (courtesy of a collab braining session with my hubby) for what happens next (because I clearly don't have enough upcoming Doc stories lol)

Warnings: Mild PTSF, guilt, reference to torture/gore, profanity, heated kissing

WC: 4,340

The sound of those crashing waves again lulled me into a false sense of nearness as I followed the well-trod path toward the beach, endlessly believing I’d finally glimpse a stunning expanse of oceans upon cresting the next ridge only to find another dune stretching out before me. The Marauder was empty when Crosshair and I had reached it, but he’d urged me to continue alone as he ducked inside with a parting “Try not to start another fight until I get there.”

Alone, there was no blessed freedom from my thoughts, nothing to distract myself from the ache each step sent shooting through my hip nor the way my hand throbbed, and I quickly found my strides quickening if only to escape that haunted isolation. Acknowledging that I’d had no real choice in what I’d done offered little reprieve from the nauseating guilt brought on by the memories, and I quickly found myself so lost in those thoughts that I might have run mindlessly into Hunter before noticing him had he not reached out to grab my arms first, wide eyes studying me expectantly as I turned up to him with a quiet gasp.

“I was just coming to find you.” He said after a moment’s hesitation, words drawn out with an unspoken question. He glanced briefly past me before those worried eyes turned back to mine.

“He’s at the ship.” I answered, straining to force my breathing to slow. I knew it was pointless, that he could hear the rapid thudding of my heart and quickly tried to change the subject. “Couldn’t have landed closer to shore?” Hunter barely acknowledged the feigned annoyance in my words. “Usually, people go to the beach to relax, not for a workout.” He was still for just a moment longer before yielding beneath my silent plea with a gentle smirk.

“And here I thought you were tougher than the other nat-borns.” He teased, and relief fluttered through my chest. “Need me to carry you, princess?” I scoffed and tread purposefully around him.

“Don’t tempt me, Mr Big, Scary Clone Commando.”

“‘Scary’?” He sounded far too pleased with himself as he fell in step beside me, shoulder bumping lightly against mine. “I can think of a couple better ways to describe myself.” There was nothing forced in the chuckle that escaped me as I looked up at him.

“Yeah? What? Like cocky? Vain? Over-a-” The word cut off with a squeal of laughter as he threw me over his shoulder.

“Sorry, what was that?” He hummed fingers intentionally toying with the oversensitive skin at my sides any time I tried to speak. “Can’t quite hear you over all that giggling.”

“Hunter!” I shouted, eagerly ignoring the flash of pain as my hands latched onto the thick muscle atop his shoulder blades to steady myself. “Put me down!”

“And risk wearing out our precious med’ika? Boost would never forgive me.” My cheeks flared red.

“Hunter!” I shrieked again, but he merely shook with his own laughter as he continued along the trail a few more strides before finally setting me down, haughty grin toying with his lips as his touch lingered on my arms to steady me. I tried to glare at him but couldn’t restrain my mirth for even a fleeting moment as I tried not to think on the ease with which his powerful frame carried me.

“What’s with the… Doc!” The concern in Wrecker’s voice instantly shifted to excitement as he looked down at us from atop the dune, and I sent him a warm smile that quickly broke into laughter once more as he skidded down the hill, plowing into me with a breathtaking hug that forced out a quiet “oof” as he lifted me off my feet.

“Yuh had me so worried!” He said, and I could hear Hunter’s quiet chuckle beside us. “An’ then you were gone when I woke up, and I thought-” He suddenly stopped and carefully put me back down, blush flaring up his neck. “You, uh… sorry if I… made yuh uncomfortable…” His loud voice faded into an almost embarrassed murmur. “Didn’t really seem like yuh wanted me to let yuh go, so I just…” He lets his words fade with a shrug.

“Wrecker,” I called softly, heart jumping when he hesitantly met my gaze. “Thank you for helping me last night... I think I really needed it.” His blush deepened, but his lips pulled into a shy grin.

“Jus’ glad it helped.” He replied softly, and he paused for just a moment, watching me with that knowing softness that spoke volumes of the darkness he knew lingered just beneath my smile, but he allowed me to hide from it in the warmth of his presence. “Now, come on! If yuh thought the last fish we roasted was big, wait ‘til yuh see this one!” My brow hitched in interest as he turned and guided me over that final dune, arm draped casually around my shoulders.

I’d never seen water so clear. Even from afar, bursts of color shown through that crystalline blue from endless stretches of elaborate coral reefs through which I could just make out blurred streaks darting in and out of sight as countless fish thrived in the immaculate landscape hidden beneath the gentle waves. A comforting wind toyed with my hair, carrying the scent of sun-warmed sands garnished with a salty tang that was somehow far more subtle than I’d anticipated. The nearly white beach stretched out in a graceful curve to my right before vanishing beyond the tree line, while ivory cliffs blocked passage to my left, great boulders from which protruded elegantly from the water where the current crashed against them in great flurries of sparkling droplets.

“Worth the hike?” Hunter goaded with that haughty smirk.

“Depends. Am I going to get eaten the second I dip my toes in?” I asked, shooting a sideways glance at him.

“Probably not.” The utter ease with which his smokey voice murmured those words drew a huffed scoff from me, eyes rolling slightly.

“Nothin’ out there we can’t deal with, at least!” Wrecker chimed, pulling me forward once more.

Nestled just within the shadow of palms near the base of the cliff, they’d dug a pit into the sand from which I could just glimpse the glow of coals beneath a familiar metal grate, and I didn’t doubt Wrecker had hauled it from the Marauder the instant one of his brothers suggested they prepare a meal. He was right. Only half of the massive fish they’d somehow caught fit atop the grill, the remaining half hung from a nearby tree, flesh protected beneath a layer of broad leaves, and it was easily twice as large as the one we’d cooked on Devaron.

“No swimming… Got it…” I muttered, noting the row of sharp teeth nearly the length of my hand, and Wrecker let out a warm chuckle.

“Predators such as this tend to prefer feeding at dawn or dusk, making it highly unlikely one would attempt to target you in the next several hours.” I turned to find Tech reclined against the trunk of one of the swaying trees. A pile of tool and parts lay at his side, gaze turned toward his datapad though it didn’t appear as though he was truly looking at it so much as looking away from me, and that realization made my heart drop.

“So, you’re saying there’s only a small chance I’ll lose a limb.” I replied, gentle smile warming my voice in a silent plea, and that smile grew when his eyes flicked briefly to mine, lips just twitching in a grin of his own.

“It’s unlikely, but, yes, there’s a non-zero probability.” He yielded reluctantly.

“I’ll go with yuh!” Wrecker offered.

“Maybe after breakfast.” His eyes lit up at my response.

“A’right! I’ve been dyin’ to try this thing!” With that, he released me to trot toward the freshly cooked meal with Hunter following shortly behind.

“How are you feeling?” I asked quietly, moving to sit down a few feet away from the Tech.

“I do not believe I’ve suffered any long-term effects from the electrocution.” He answered, gaze again shifting toward me for a fleeting, almost shy glance that piqued my curiosity.

“Given that ‘short-term’ technically includes anything up to a month, would you care to elaborate?” I drawled, turning knowing eyes toward him, and I couldn’t help but warm at the way his lips bunched up.

“There’s some lingering fatigue and occasional muscle weakness, but it is minor enough that I anticipate it to resolve without the need for intervention.” His fingers tapped against the screen, but his attention remained somewhere just beyond whatever data lay within the illuminated surface.

“I’m glad.” I sighed in relief. His jaw twitched, but he seemed to think better of what he’d nearly said and quickly silenced himself. I ducked my head pointedly toward him, waiting, and I watched his fingers fidget anxiously with the seem of his gloves.

“Hunter… told me that you… well, that you carried me… again…” I almost couldn’t believe the sight of red creeping up his neck. “I apologize if it’s been burdensome.” Beneath a guilt that made my heart twist, there was a note of… something in his voice… excitement maybe? I found myself eager to lean into that underlying emotion rather than let him drown in a guilt that had no place between us.

“Stand up.” I instructed suddenly, already pushing myself to my feet as well, hands absently swiping at the sand clinging to my legs.

“Excuse me?” That confusion broke whatever aversion had kept him from meeting my eyes, and I had to bite back the relief upon finally seeing that brilliant burnt honey looking back at me.

“Stand up.” I said again, hand flaring out for emphasize. He stammered a moment longer, mind racing to understand my motivation before hesitantly moving to obey me. Without giving him time to object, I tread across the single step between us, crouching down to hoist him over my shoulder in a single, smooth motion. His datapad fell half-buried in the sand as his hands darted out to my back, a sharp gasp catching in his throat, and Wrecker’s laugh boomed across the dozen yards separating us from the grill.

“See?” I called, voice free of strain despite the way my hip balked from the effort. “This is what I do, Tech. It’s not a burden – you’re not a burden.” I bounced gently on the balls of my feet for emphasize and couldn’t help but grin at the way his breath caught in his throat.

“Y-yes; quite; you… you can put me down now.” He stammered, long legs stretching for the ground.

“Nah. I think he likes it up there.” Hunter teased as he approached us, thoughtlessly cleaning his knife of fish residue. Though I couldn’t see the expression on his face, I felt Tech turn sharply toward his brother and didn’t doubt the rage surely burning through his eyes.

“I told yuh she’s stronger than she looks!” Wrecker boasted. He was carrying a massive chunk of flaky meat atop one of the tree fronds, but his attention rested solely on us, pride shining in his eyes that drew a huff of laughter from me. I knew the pilot could have easily forced himself free, that he only refrained out of either respect or a reluctance to risk hurting me in the process. Regardless, my intent was merely to prove a point so, rather than dragging it out, I carefully lowered him back down.

Face a vibrant red, he quickly straightened his blacks indignantly. With a gentle smile, I retrieved his datapad and held it out for him. His blush only deepened in that brief moment of glancing toward me before accepting it, but he let out a short breath and nodded, jaw taut against what looked like the threat of his own smile, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Hunter was right…

Before my thoughts could wander over that possibility, the Sergeant’s expression suddenly dropped into an unimpressed stare, attention locked onto something just passed my shoulder.

“Ah.” Tech’s brief murmur held the same dismissive resignation as I followed their gazes and had to bite back the grin that tried to pull at my lips. Crosshair had finally caught up with us, armor apparently left behind on the Marauder along with his shirt. There wasn’t an ounce of shame in his eyes as he looked at each of his brothers in turn before letting his gaze rest on me, and I couldn’t begin to feign indifference.

There was something feline in the way his body moved, the tantalizing interplay of immaculately sculpted muscles emphasizing his every stride, and I couldn’t help but remember how perfect they felt beneath my hands as he towered over me in those moonlit woods, the strength of them as his weight pressed me into that scratchy blanket. He was paler than most clones, but the soft caramel of his skin held a warmth that still left me craving its touch, its scent, his taste.

Swallowing back the flare of want, I finally yielded, looking at him with the hunger he’d so effortlessly sent burning through me, and the smirk that instantly lit his face robbed me of any doubt that he’d known exactly what he was doing when he left the ship like that.

“Hope you put on some sunblock.” Hunter called, voice almost bored, but the taunt did nothing to deter the sniper’s pride. Crosshair’s lips pulled into a sneer, but before he could offer a retort, Wrecker interrupted them.

“Ah, you guys can bully each other later. Let’s eat!” I let out a quiet chuckle before pausing, glancing first toward the beach and then into the trees.

“Wait… Where’s Echo?” I asked, and the simple confusion in my voice twisted into a haunting dread at the way Hunter’s jaw tensed.

“He’s at the ship.” Crosshair answered, and I just caught the hard glare he shot his brother before schooling his face back into a nearly impassive disinterest. “Didn’t want to deal with the sand.” I could have pressed. I could have demanded they tell me the truth, admit that he was avoiding me rather than play into the lie, but I knew nothing would come of it. He didn’t want to see me. Nothing I said would change that simple hurt.

“Guess someone’ll just have to bring him some fish later.” My vain attempt at nonchalance fell painfully short, prompting a heaviness to the air around us that made my skin crawl. Drawing a quick breath, I turned my attention to the pile of meat Wrecker had carried from the fire. “Let’s not let it get cold.”

“What are you working on?” Short conversation had murmured between the brothers as we ate regarding empty speculations on where we might be sent next, if we’d be granted time to rest before the next mission, muttered complaints about how long it had been seen we’d found ourselves in an actual city, but as the meal ended, a less oppressive quiet settled between us.

Wrecker, stomach full and body warmed beneath the brilliant sun, lay dozing nearby while Hunter was busying himself with climbing the nearby cliff for a better view of the island. Crosshair had seated himself just near enough to me for his knee to occasionally brush mine, though he offered no reaction to those hidden touches as though they’d occurred by mere chance, so I pointedly turned my attention to the now nearly completed device in Tech’s hands. His eyes darted toward me for just a moment upon hearing my question before returning to his work.

“A tester scomp of sorts.” He stated absently, attention focused on piecing the remaining sheath atop the intricate series of wires. “This should grant us some warning against another malicious failsafe such as what we encountered at the outpost.” My interest instantly piqued, relief pouring through me for a worry I hadn’t realized I’d had. There was a time I would have been shocked that he’d been able to create something out of whatever lay about the Marauder, but I’d long since learned not to think such limitation to be a hindrance to the man before me.

“You think it’ll be able to trigger whatever trap that was?” I asked, voice hushed beneath a desperate hope.

“I’ll need to test it first… but, yes. While I doubt they’d attempt the same strategy twice, I believe caution is the appropriate tactic going forward.” Some of his words were drawn out, as though he’d nearly forgotten he was speaking as he finished attaching the final piece. Before I could reply, he pushed himself to his feet. “Excuse me – I’ll need to use the Marauder to verify it’s efficiency.”

With that, he quickly disappeared among the trees. With Hunter mere feet from the distant lip of shockingly pale stone and Wrecker making barely a sound as he slept, my mind revolted against the silence. It was too easy to fall back into the memory of those screams, to hear the crunch of bone in the sound of waves crashing against sand. As though I could feel him studying me, I glanced over to find Crosshair’s eyes trained on mine, and I briefly feared he could hear the way my heart raced.

Dismissing that worry, I hid my panic beneath a tiny smirk and let my gaze flick pointedly into the rich rainforests blanketing the island before looking back toward him, intent clear in my gaze. His brow twitched ever so slightly, jaw tensing beneath a want I was too eager to lose myself in. Without a word, I silently pushed myself to my feet, relieved to hear him following in my wake.

Barely a half dozen yards separated us from the tree line before his arm wrapped around my chest, and I couldn’t hold back the thrilled gasp as he pulled me flush to him, hunger instantly bursting through me at the heat of his powerful form. My hands automatically darted up to clasp his forearm, head tilting back to rest atop his shoulder as my lips readily pulled into a wide grin. I expected him to kiss me, felt myself shifting eagerly in anticipation, but he merely held me like that, watching me with a quiet that I couldn’t help but still beneath. His free hand slowly reached for me, fingers trailing lightly along my jaw.

Only after my body relaxed into him, intoxicated by the gentleness of his touch, did he kiss me, and I instantly found myself relishing in how quickly the world around us faded. It was effortless; forgetting the very existence of reality beyond that moment as I hid in the euphoria of his taste. Seeing him from afar, watching the sharpness of his glare, how readily that impatient scowl stole over his unapologetic face, assumptions of rough hands and sloppy lips were easy to imagine, but Maker, nothing was further from the truth.

Even now, despite my clear willingness for him, his every move held a reverence, as though convinced each second was its own revelation of some treasured secret revealed only through soft touches and the subtle dance of his kiss, and how could I not lose myself in him when he held me like that? The conviction of his worship forbade even a whisper of self-doubt. I felt cherished in a way I’d never before known, and it left be breathless, floating weightless in his embrace.

When he pulled back, haunted eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t begin to understand, I found myself torn, desperate for more of him while grasping for some means of ridding those amber eyes of whatever worries drew that subtle crease between his brows.

“You going to tell me what happened on the beach?” It wasn’t quite a whisper, but there was a softness to his raspy voice that would never cease to send that burst of heat through my chest. Still, I couldn’t begin to reach for an answer, mind still lost in the rush of his kiss. “You looked like you were about to start pacing.” He pressed, and I would have turned from him if I could remember how to feel shame over the want burning through me.

“It was too quiet.” I murmured, and from the way his gaze darkened, I didn’t doubt how thoroughly he understood.

“Not sure how I feel about you only coming me to when you have something you need to forget.” The regret that coiled in my stomach nearly ruined me, instantly sobering me of that thoughtless need as I withered beneath the threat of hurt in his voice.

“Cross…” His name fluttered from my lips absent any hope of finding some means of quieting his heartbreaking betrayal as I turned to face him, hands reaching up to whisper against his jaw, but I couldn’t deny what he’d said, and he knew it. I wanted to sob at the hesitation vainly hidden beneath a growing annoyance.

“Wait…” I barely breathed the hushed murmur before forcing some memory of strength back into my voice as his eyes turned pointedly away from me. “I… You’re right.” I loathed the way those words clawed up my throat. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to belittle this… us…” The fleeting urge to remind him that he’d offer me exactly that: a distraction, sat atop my tongue, rancid and bitter as I ached beneath the guilt of allowing him to feel like this when he’d so effortlessly filled me with that perfect bliss.

“I did look to you as a way to get away from…” Unwilling to force the nightmares into words, I motioned vaguely toward my head before returning my hand to his cheek. “But I swear, Cross… I don’t just want you for that… I want you.” My fingers shifted carefully against the rough stumble, subtly willing him closer to me. “I want you.” I whispered those tiny words with the full breadth of love that danced beneath my skin from his every touch, with the wonder and glee that burst through my chest at even a brief glimpse of his smile.

He didn’t fight me as I gently pulled him down to let my forehead rest against his, and I savored the intimacy of that closeness, thumbs gently sweeping across the ridge of his cheekbones. I didn’t try to claim his lips again, nor did I move to covet the tantalization display of his toned physique laid bare before me. In that moment, I needed nothing more than for him to believe me, that whatever relief his body might grant mine in a fit of passion paled beneath this; the simple act of holding him, of yielding beneath my want for his nearness and knowing he gleaned the same comfort in holding me, and when his arms slowly wrapped around my waist, I couldn’t suppress the shuddered breath that tumbled past my lips, my own arms instantly reaching out to lock around his broad shoulders.

“Do you want to go back to the beach?” I didn’t pull away as I let the words flutter through his hair after granting us a long while to merely bask in each other’s embrace. Without a word, he shook his head, and then his mouth was on mine. A tiny gasp caught in my throat as the sudden touch but found myself desperate for it, breath faltering in a whimper as his earlier tenderness quickly ceded beneath that hunger I’d so wanted to succumb to just moments prior.

He pressed harder into me, crowding me until I had to lean back, frightfully dependent on his touch to keep from falling, and I didn’t try to quiet the moan at that first caress of his tongue. His hand dropped down my waist to slide around my thigh, tugging the limb up to wrap around him, and I could feel the way he smirked at how easily he had me clinging to him.

“Say it again.” It was meant to be an order, but I could hear the need in it, and I offered no hesitation.

“I want you, Cross.” Murmuring the words against his lips, my fingers tangled into his hair, grip tightening just enough to emphasize my desire. Arm tightening around me, he stood up, hauling me effortlessly from the ground. Ignoring the ache of those barely sealed wounds, my other leg jerked up to lock around him as well, barely noticing the deceptively rough bark of a palm tree pressing against my back as my core burned from the heat radiating off him. Just as his hand began creeping beneath the hem of my shirt, a voice called out from the beach, rudely sending reality crashing back around us.

“Keep your clothes on.” Lips twisting into that familiar snarl, Crosshair let out a nearly growled breath, obstinately refusing to set me down.

“The kriff do you want, Hunter?” He shouted, refusing to so much as glance in the direction of his brother.

“We have to head out – wheels up in ten.” Disappointment replaced whatever embarrassment had begun darkening my cheeks, teeth catching about my lip as my body sank beneath a heavy sigh.

“What?! Why?!” He demanded, finally twisting his head back to stare at the foliage still protecting us from view. I tried to free my legs, but his grip only tightened, so I merely waited for his denial to cave.

“Orders came in.”

“We aren’t back from our last orders.” It was a useless objection, and he knew it, but his frustration forbid him from yielding so easily.

“Yeah… these aren’t for us.” Something about the reluctance in Hunter’s voice sent a chill down my spine, and I could feel Crosshair tense with that same apprehension. “They’re for her.” His annoyance instantly vanished, gaze darting to me with a confused dread that I couldn’t help but mirror.

Continue Reading (Extra Scene)

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[weiwuxianismybae]

Wei Wuxian would NOT help Jiang Cheng torture demonic cultivators

So a while ago (and I mean a while ago), I saw the worst take at that moment. If it was just one poster I would have ignored it, but! There were at least 3 people and even art was drawn and all of it to say that if Jiang Cheng was really torturing those non-existent demonic cultivators, than Wei Wuxian would have happily helped his brother! And before anyone comes at me, I don't care what people do with their free time or with their skills. I'm an artist myself and would definitely not appreciate people telling me what I can and can't draw. It's not about that, it's just that their take was so bad that I couldn't ignore it and had to vent about it! So, where do I begin?

Well, let's begin with those demonic cultivators! (I know a bunch of people said it already, but I don't mind repeating it for the slow learners.)

Oh! And keep in mind that mdzs is a third person omniscient narration (not wwx's narration!) That's why we get to read direct thoughts of so many different characters, not just Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng really did torture them. He admits it himself!

A moment ago, Jiang Cheng was certain that this person was Wei WuXian, and all of the blood in his body started to boil. Yet, now, Zidian was clearly telling him that he wasn’t. Zidian definitely wouldn’t deceive him or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, this doesn’t mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It’s impossible for him to not confess anything or give himself away. I’ve done things like this in the past anyways. After thinking it through, he made a gesture. The disciples understood his intention and came over.

ExR ch. 10

His nephew, who lived half the time in Lotus Pier, also confirms it:

Wei WuXian asked, “Do you know why your uncle wants me?”

Jin Ling answered, “Yeah. He believes that you’re Wei WuXian.”

Wei WuXian thought, 'This time, it’s not merely ‘suspect’ anymore. He’s got the right person.' He asked again, “Then, what about you? Don’t you suspect it as well?”

Jin Ling, “It’s not the first time my uncle did such a thing. He has never let any of them go, even if it was possible that he caught the wrong ones. But, if Zidian couldn’t draw out your spirit, I’m just gonna trust that you’re not. Besides, he wasn’t a cut-sleeve, but you even dared to harass…”

ExR ch. 24

Even the Lan juniors speek of it! Reminder that gossip is forbidden, so this must not be gossip or at least the possibility of it being just some rumours is low.

Lan SiZhui tried to reason with him, “Young Master Mo, it was for your sake that HanGuang-Jun brought you here. If you do not follow us, Sect Leader Jiang will not be willing to let the matter go. During these years, there were countless people whom he caught and took back to Lotus Pier, and none of those people were ever let out.”

ExR ch. 11

And let's not forget the innkeeper from Yunping with her eyewitness!

Wei WuXian moved his gaze from Lan WangJi’s calm face with a short pause of surprise, “Lotus Pier is scary? How could Lotus Pier be scary? You’ve been there?”

The owner, “I haven’t been there myself, but I know someone who went because his house was being badly haunted. But it was all bad luck. That Sect Leader Jiang was cracking a glowing whip right on the training field. The victim’s flesh and blood flew as high as his screams! A servant secretly informed him that the sect leader caught the wrong person again, that he hadn’t been in a great mood, and that he definitely shouldn’t be irritated in any way. He was so scared that he dropped off the gifts he brought and fled at once. He never dared visit again.”

ExR ch. 92

So. There is no point arguing that Jiang Cheng didn't torture those poor people demonic cultivators. So, how about Wei Wuxian? Would he have helped his "brother"?

No.

The answer is simply no.

Wei Wuxian is a kind and caring person. He would never judge and even less attack a person without a good reason. And before someone says, "But he killed so many people! Torture Wen cultivators, massacred 3000 cultivators in the Nightless City! Surely he would–" Let me stop you right there. It was war. Like Mianmian once said:

The woman tried hard to protest, “The Sunshot Campaign is a battlefield. On the battlefield, would it mean that everyone is killing indiscriminately? Let’s consider this as it stands. I really don’t think it’s right to say that he killed indiscriminately. After all, there is a reason. If the inspectors really abused the prisoners and killed Wen Ning, it wouldn’t be called killing indiscriminately anymore, but rather revenge...”

ExR ch. 73

(This passage is in case someone argues that the deaths of those guards were also unjust.)

Wen Chao and his people massacred Wei Wuxian's home. He had every right to exact his revenge. In case someone forgot, this is seen as just by the cultivation world:

Xiao XingChen spoke as though he couldn’t believe Xue Yang’s words, “Chang CiAn broke one of your fingers in the past. If you sought revenge, you could’ve simply broken one of his fingers as well. If you really took the matter to heart, you could’ve broken two, or even all ten! Even if you had cut off an entire arm of his, things wouldn’t have been like this. Why did you have to kill his entire clan? Don’t tell me that a single finger of yours was equal to more than fifty human lives!”

ExR ch. 41

And after that, he never went after people that did him nothing wrong! He even protected the Wen Remnants. (Unlike a certain someone that holds a grudge until the very end, even after that person had saved him countless times!)

In case of the Nightless City, let me paraphrase Wei Wuxian: who attacked whom first? Who had gathered 3000 cultivators to pledge to kill 50 innocent elderly, sick and a child? Who went against their word to let the matter go?

Wei Wuxian is the moral compass and we should aspire to be more like him. This is how MXTX wrote him. He would have never helped his "brother" (they were never brothers, people, let it go already) torture and kill innocents. And he would definitely not relish in it.

+ Bonus

The same innkeeper from Yunping about some rando with surname Wen:

The owner, “Also, I’ve heard of another person who was scared away.”

Wei WuXian, “Scared away by what?” It couldn’t have been when Jiang Cheng was whipping someone again, could it? Just how often did Jiang Cheng capture people and whip them?

The owner, “No, no. It was his misfortune. The person’s surname was Wen, and that Sect Leader Jiang’s archenemy happened to have the surname of Wen as well. He's hating on everyone in this world whose surname is Wen. Whenever he sees one, he’d grind his teeth in hatred, wanting to skin them alive. How could he give a single friendly look to...”

ExR ch. 92

Good thing that guy's name wasn't Wen Kexing or it would have been Jiang Cheng who was tortured to death!

[readerxlol]

A Misunderstanding - Lo’ak x reader

Summary: the reader misinterprets an interaction between her sister and her crush, Lo’ak after telling her about her new found feelings

Warnings: angst with fluff at the end

Please do not judge this is my first ever post of a fan fiction. I hope you enjoy :)

Readers pov: 

Giggling, Tsireya teases me about the words that had just left my mouth. “You find Lo’ak attractive?” “Yeah but I don’t like him… that’s so weird… I don't like him.” I fumble, trying to justify the situation I had just put myself in, realising my older sister has gotten me in an awkward position. “Oh please! Don’t think I didn’t see you blushing when you two had your first interaction. ‘Hey’ he said and you were all like ‘oh new boy choose me. Love me.’” She mocked with breaks for laughter in between. “That’s disgusting I never said that. I said hey back. They were new and he was being nice.” “Yeah but you were thinking it.” She whispered with a smirk on her face. 

Thinking back to when the Sully family first introduced themselves, I remember riding my Ilu over to the newcomers shortly after the arrival of the Ikrans. As I stepped out of the water I sensed eyes on me. Looking up I locked eyes with one of the Toruk Makto’s sons. I recall my first thoughts being ‘he looks my age’ and ‘he’s quite cute’. 

“Don't think that when Aonung was inspecting the forest people. You weren’t specifically analysing the features of the second son.” She was obviously hinting at Lo’ak. As i thought her verbal torture was over, she continued. I’ve come to learn that when she goes off on a tangent, it’s best to let her rather than stop her; resulting in digging yourself into a deeper hole. So I sit and wait for my misery to end. “In fact you were not only intrigued about the forest peoples’ looks. You were checking Lo’ak out. I saw the eyes you were giving him.” That’s it. I pounced at her as I started a war. War…more like a play fight, but considering her recent accusations it might as well be.

After a good few minutes it ended with me being tickled by Tsireya. “Pl…please…s..stop’” I just about get out through laughs. She smiled evilly at me as if she had a plan. “I will do when you admit your crush on Lo’ak.” Damn I can’t get out of this now. Normally I kick her and escape before ever saying my truth but I had grown tired from the laughter that had been released. There’s no going back now. I have to go through with it and accept inevitable teasing from my older sister who has had more experience with boys than me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, but I know from when Aonung had his first crush, Tsireya teased him for his feelings and I knew she would do the same to me. 

However there was no other way so I just had to put up with giving in. “Ok, ok fine. I like Lo’ak.” I whispered due to lack of breath, knowing she would hear me. Thankfully she did and stopped the tickling but unfortunately, she maintained her grip on me. “I’m sorry what was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” She pushed forcing me to say it again. Grumpily I repeated “I like Lo’ak ok. Now will you please get off me!” Tsireya smiled down at me as she released me. She began to laugh and soon after I joined in, finding amusement into the past few minutes. After recovering she thought it about be a good idea to see much I liked him. Whatever that means. She began to quiz me as the mood changed, from a chaotic, buzzing atmosphere to a calm, trusting one. “When did you first realise you liked him?” “When i was teaching him all day how to breathe correctly and at the end he was able to collect the shell. He was willing to learn, you know. And his efforts had payed off. He was so happy with himself.” Smiling to myself I look down reminiscing the memory. “Aw look at you grinning. You really like him don't you.” Early I wouldn’t have answered but after spilling my heart out I might as well. “Yeah I do.” “Little sis has gotten herself a first crush and now she’s in love.” She lightly teased, poking my arm as I gave her a glare.

────︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ────

Tsireya pov:

After getting Y/n to admit her infatuation for Lo’ak I made it my mission to find out if said feelings were reciprocated. As the evening began, I went out on a search to find Lo’ak. Fortunately not too far from where I was standing I spotted the boy. He was sitting on the sand fiddling with something in his hands. Walking over I notice the said object he was holding was the shell Y/n gave him to collect. 

He kept it. It must of meant something to him for him to keep it. This made me come to the conclusion that what I was about to ask, would have the result I hoped for. 

“Hey, can I join you?” “Sure.” “What’s that in your hand?” I questioned as I sat down. Obviously I knew what it was I just wanted to figure out why he still had it. “It’s a shell Y/n gave me to collect when she was teaching me to hold my breath.” “Why’d you keep it?” Now I’m getting to the good bit. I prayed to Eywa that he’s kept to for a certain reason. “I don't know?” Ugh. This boy. I will get it out of him one way or another. “I can tell you do know. You’re just not willing to admit it to me. Does it have something to do with my sister Y/n, Lo’ak?” This should do it. I’ve got him now, just like I had Y/n earlier. A light blush appeared on his cheeks as he looked down in embarrassment. To be honest I’ve always known ever since he first arrived. Since day one that boy has had eyes on Y/n. From the look he gave her as she got out the water. To his increasing heart rate when she tried to help him slow it down by putting pressure on his torso. All things Y/n might not have noticed the intention. However, I did and can tell that that boy fell at first sight. Now I just need to get him to confess. “It does have something to do with her doesn’t it?” I glanced at him with a knowing look. I continued though, “I’ve seen how you look at her. That not how someone who wants a friendship looks at someone else. You like her don’t you?” Please Eywa. Please see what I have seen. 

After what felt like an eternity he finally speaks up. 

“Yeah I do.” 

Thank you Eywa. Thank you, thank you. Lo’ak looked up at me bashfully. I let out a laugh. I couldn’t hold it in this whole situation was too funny. “What?” Lo’ak asked worriedly thinking he did something wrong. 

Damn this boy is a nervous wreck. “Calm down lover boy.” I teased. Playfully, he hit me and then regained his embarrassment. “I’d say love at first sight.” I continued to push his buttons as he slams his hand over my mouth to shut me up. “You’re not funny. I wish I hadn’t said anything now.” “I’m sorry I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that I just find love very cute.”

Y/n pov: 

I was a beautiful evening the waves were calm and there was little to no breeze. I had decided to go on a walk to clear my head. I hadn’t gone far from my family’s pod until a pair caught my eye. Curiously I wandered quietly over to see who the pair were. 

Tsireya and Lo’ak. 

Confused I tried to get closer to hear what they were saying but to my dismay I couldn’t without being spotted so I had to rely on body language. As I watched intently, I had gotten as far as understanding that they were talking about something which annoyingly, I still couldn’t hear. I carried on watching and within moments, even with the dark, I noticed a blush appear on Lo’ak’s face and saw him try and hide it from embarrassment. Glumly, I continued to watch. Tsireya laughs as Lo’ak playfully slaps her. I might not hear what was being said but I could clearly tell he preferred her over me so there was no point of ever telling him how I feel. A tear rolled down my face from pain that I didn’t know had built up. Humiliated I got up and fled. 

How could she do this to me. Flirting with the guy I only a few hours ago I confessed my love for to her, and now shes off with him at night laughing and joking around. I ran and didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I wanted to erase my memory of what I had just witnessed. Running as quick as possible I began to struggle as tears cloud my eyes and threaten to pour out. I hadn’t noticed the rock in the path as i tripped and fell. It didn’t hurt too bad badly but with everything that had just unfolded I began to sob. Fortunately, no one saw me as I got back up and sprinted back to my Marui pod and into my room, I wanted to scream and shout and cry as loud as possible but I knew I couldn’t. I paced around my room trying to contain my sorrows. Mixed with anger and sadness I processed what I had seen. They seemed happy, why should I get between that?

But I told her though she knew how I felt and in plain view she clearly flirted with him. 

Tired I crumbled onto my bed feeling worthless. Why would anyone like me? They could have my amazing sister. Always second. Second to mother. Second to father. Second to Anuong. Second, second, second and now it seems like I’m second to Lo’ak. I turned over so my back faced to anyone who enters. Tears re-entered my eyes and rolled slowly down my cheek as I fell into a dreamless sleep.

────︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ────

A calm breeze woke me up. Tears dried to my face I tried to scrub off with my hand as I walked over to the main part of the pod. To my dismay only the person who I didn’t want to see was there.

Tsireya.

“Hey little sis” she exclaims cheerfully. Noticing my unhappy mood she questions it. “Hey what’s up with you?” I don’t really feel like talking to her so I brush her off with a “Nothing.” Unfortunately she doesn’t look convinced. “No seriously what’s up with you?” She asks calmly. However I’m not into the mood and her being so oblivious to a reason why, only fuels my anger more. I can’t deal with it I might as well let it out than let it destroy me. “YOU! THAT’S WHAT’S UP!” Confused at this burst she tries to calm me down but it does work. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, what do you mean me?” 

“YOU LYING. BACKSTABBING.SNAKE.” I yelled pushing her at each word.

 “I SAW YOU YESTERDAY LAUGHING AND PLAYING AROUND WITH LO’AK. AND NOT ONLY THAT WHEN YOU WERE TALKING THE BLUSH THAT WAS ON HIS FACE WHEN YOU SPOKE TO HIM. YOU MAKE HIM FLUSTERED, AND HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID TO NOT REALISE THAT HE LIKED YOU THIS WHOLE TIME. I HATE YOU. THE ONE THING I THOUGHT I HAD, GONE BECAUSE OF YOU!” tears streamed down my face that I hadn’t realised had until I stopped yelling. Though I had just been yelling at her, Tsireya looked calm and composed. “WHAT?” I partially hiss at her. “I’m sorry.” She exclaimed. I knew it, I had been proven right. Tears continued to spill over the edge as i faced the truth. “Please stop crying and let me explain.” That did it, she wanted to explain Lo’ak’s feelings for her. No thank you. “NO WHY WOULD I HUH? 

“BECAUSE HE LIKES YOU, Y/N. NOT ME.”

I stopped in my tracked to register what she had just said, my tears had finally slowed when hearing her words. “He likes you, Y/n. Not me you.” The words finally formed in my brain as guilt set in due to my resent outburst. “Tsireya… I am so sorry for yelling at me and…” Despite my apology not being finished, Tsireya pulled me in to a hug in which I gladly accepted. “No I’m sorry Y/n. Now thinking back, it would look suspicious for me to say something and form him to become a blushing mess. I’m so sorry I made it look like that.” “No don't apologise. You didn’t even know I was there so how could not how to act.” “Please let me explain…” pulling away from our hug.

As I listen to her story. I realise how wrong I was for believing he liked her not me. “He was holding your shell the whole time.” Now it was my turn to become a blushing mess. “He blushed because I brought up you and asked him whether he had a crush on you. And he admitted it.” I looked up at her smiled widely. “Go find him, girl.” With that I ran. I ran as fast as I could to find him. I needed to find him. I had to find him. As I spotted him, he took looked around frantically for someone as well. I ran towards him down the winding path I noticed his eyes light up when he spotted me as well. We both ran toward one another and nearly crashed into each other. Only stopping by hold onto each other. My hand on his chest and his on my waist. “Hey.” “Hey.” We awkwardly spoke to each other. Don’t mess this up now. “I have something to tell you-” We both spoke together. “You go first.” I told him, feeling that if I could wait then I could wait now. “But ladies should go first-” “Lo’ak just say what you were going to say.” He took a moment to gain composure before beginning. “Ever since I set eyes on you I have been infatuated by you not just your beauty but you kind heart and your determination to help people. I can’t stop thinking about you. Night and day my mind thinks of only you.” Without realising I get emotional at his confession. Only do I realise when he wipes under my eyes with the back of his finger. “Please don’t cry.” I laugh and once he knows I’m okay he continues on “I have never met anyone like you in my life before. You are blessing. I love you.” 

The last words come as I shock as my breath hitches in the back of my throat. 

“Say that again.” “Y/n, I love you.” “Say it again a thousand times.” I laugh as he grabs me by the waist and pulls me against his body. “I’ll say it until I get sick of saying it, if that’s what it takes for you to comprehend my love for you.” He closes the gap between us as he leans down and kisses my lips. Butterflies soar in my stomach as our lips move in-sync with each other. After a short time I break the kiss “I love you Lo’ak.” I say, his lips turning into the sweetest smile I've ever seen. “I love you Y/n.” He says again as he goes in for another kiss.

[lethalchiralium]

Open His Eyes | Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

a/n: so i’m watching scandal, like the totally normal drama series obsessed person i am and there is a specific scene in s3 ep3 that instantly made me think “holy fuck. it’s ghost and riot.” so uh yeah here, and now i’ve convinced myself that i’m gonna make this a small series but we don’t know! i’m flying by the seam of my pants like always!

warnings: HEAVY AND DETAILED MENTIONS OF INJURY AND MEDICAL ATTENTION (including needles!!!). mentions of cadavers and detailed accounts of autopsy, mentions of torture, vague mentions of sex but nothing too graphic

summary: Ghost had been gone for months, and the entire Task Force has exhausted every connection they had and were met with dead ends - except for you. By contacting an old friend, you get an unexpected present at your door late at night.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this - I can’t respond with this blog!

| NEXT

The glass of wine settled heavy in your hand, the long stem grew from in between your fingers while the bowl rested in your palm. Your best red wine swished and swayed as you reclined onto your couch.

Your house didn’t feel like home like it once had, many moons ago. Now, it sat cold - the fire that danced in the fireplace did nothing to soothe the atmosphere. Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the glass, you pulled it to your lips.

Your phone then rang on the table. Your eyes gazed at the screen, an unknown number on the screen. You reached forwards, placing your glass of wine on your table and taking your phone in your hand - you answered the call.

“We’re not speaking again.”

“Open your front door.”

It was your “old friend”. The man you hired to find Ghost. US Navy Captain Jake Ballard.

“Fuck you.” You stood, phone pressed harshly against your ear as you heard movement behind your door.

“Open your front door.”

You took a moment, contemplating it - but ultimately decided to walk towards the front door. You were ready to absolutely beat the shit out of Jake if he was going to be taunting you like this. Your hand grabbed the door handle, you were about to rip him a new one when you opened the door.

“Sunday, my house, Riot. 7:00.”

Your jaw dropped, tears pricked your eyes as they stared into Ghost’s dark eyes as he held himself up with the doorframe.

“I’ll choose the wine.”

You didn’t even look away when you ended the call, Ghost’s large frame wobbled. “Hi,” He trembled before losing his balance, falling to the floor but you followed him. Your hands were gentle as they landed on his mask, he didn’t even resist when you pulled it off. A huge gash from his eyebrow and down to his cheek, a bleeding slice on his forehead.

“Si,” Your arms quickly went underneath his shoulders, using all of your strength to pull the man into your apartment from the small lobby. He groaned loudly in pain and as soon as his feet were not in the way of the door, you kicked it closed. “Simon,” Your hands patted his cheeks, his hazel-green tint eyes slowly moved to look at you. “Oh God.”

It was like something possessed you when your eyes met his, tears pricked at the corner of your left eye. You’re hesitantly placed one hand on his cheek, seeing how his pupils dilated slightly.

“I’m going to get my gear, you’re going to be just fine, LT.”

A weak graze of your leg made you look down, seeing how his left hand tried to grab for you. Your other hand gently took it, feeling him squeeze your fingers. You looked back to his face, meeting his eyes again.

“I won’t be long, it’s safe here. You’re safe here.” You whispered the last part, squeezing his hand a little before you got to your feet and ran down the hall, almost tripping over yourself as you burst into your bedroom. You tugged the small closet open, digging behind clothes to pull out a well-used black case full of medical supplies to treat wounds on the fly. You pulled it out so fast that it took down some of your hanging clothes, but you really did not fucking care.

It took you five seconds flat to sprint back down the hallway, sliding onto your knees and practically throwing the case onto the floor - it’s not like you haven’t before. You unlocked the case, ripped it open and took a moment to stare at it to think of what you needed. You moved back to kneel next to Ghost’s shoulder, taking your medical shears and with a swift motion, your hands grabbed the neck of his shirt and -

“No.” The man weakly opposed, his head swiveled to look at you while his right hand weakly reached towards the scissors.

“Simon, I have to see if your injuries.” You whispered, moving his right hand away before you began snipping the undershirt in half. You kept cutting the black shirt until it unveiled his chest.

You’ve felt his chest before, those nights you two had spent together. Granted, he always had his clothes on - you never pushed. You know his chest well, but not like this. Never in your dreams would you imagine this.

There were white scars, looked like whipping scars - years healed. There were angry red injuries, sewn up perfectly with black lines dotting them. Purple and almost black bruises dusted his skin, pink healing scars that looked maybe a month or two old. The worst of all? The one that made your heart and head stop, stop beating, stop working?

Thick, white lines in the shape of a Y, coming from both of his collarbones and down and around his belly button. Something you had only seen in seminars and lectures about cadavers.

Simon had autopsy scars. Autopsy scars. No one in the world has ever had an autopsy performed on them - because they’re alive. Hearts beating, lungs inflating. No one in the world would have these scars, because autopsies are performed when the person is dead. Those insidious lines don’t fucking heal - the skin is stapled back together so the funeral home can dress them as pretty as they could, put them in an overpriced casket, give them a run of the mill funeral. You thought you were going to vomit.

You didn’t take more than second before your brain turned back on, seeing how all of the obviously new injuries were well taken care of - including the signs that the stitches had been torn and restitched over. There were scabbed over small lines on his sternum, scabbed over ring-sized dents in the middle of his bruises. Nothing looked as if they had to be cleaned, which made you wonder why whoever took Ghost would take care of his wounds after they beat him. It was strange.

You tore your eyes away from him and opened a package of sterile gloves, pulling them on and now examining the injuries. Nothing looked urgent enough to require new stitching, you were concerned that his ribs were fractured or broken.

You almost jumped backwards when Simon’s fingers grazed the outside of your thigh, your eyes met his. You could truly see Simon then. A shattered man, holding on by mangled threads.

Your hands were gentle as you inspected his face, seeing that the gash wasn’t too deep and the slice on his forehead was something similar to the ones on his sternum. You took a cotton swab, doused it in hydrogen peroxide and looked back at Simon. “This is gonna hurt, close your eyes.”

He closed his right eye which was in between the gashes, but kept the left one open - watching you. You worked quickly - disinfecting the wound and bandaging it, then did the same with the one on his forehead. It didn’t take you anymore than five minutes to sit back, discarding the used medical gear next to your case. Your eyes met Simon’s one now, since the other was covered by a bandage. “Are any of your ribs broken?”

Simon clicked his tongue and barely shook his head.

“Anything I need to take care of on your back?”

Again, he barely shook his head.

“Okay. I need to get you up.” You muttered, pulling off your gloves and tossing them aside, arms immediately underneath his shoulders as he let out a breathless groan of agony. You ignored the pang in your chest, opting to put all of your focus into helping him to his feet. And as soon as the man was able to stand, he almost buckled back to his knees but you were quick, pulling his arm over your shoulders and making his body lean into yours. You gazed over his shoulder, seeing nothing currently bleeding so you looked back to the floor.

The walk to your bedroom was slow, agonizingly slow because you kept thinking about him as his loud and heavy footsteps echoed in your apartment.

He had been missing for two months, taken by operatives of Makarov because he had forced you out of a warehouse before it exploded, and of course none of Task Force 141 were able to recover him from the rubble or from Makarov’s hands - until now.

God, you didn’t want to tell anyone. Let him rest, let him be safe - but you knew he wasn’t safe. He wouldn’t be safe until someone put a lucky bullet in Makarov’s fucking head.

As soon as you got to your bed, you tried to gently lead him to it but he didn’t care, he placed his knee on the queen bed and forced himself forwards and turning so he was able to starfish on the bed. He audibly groaned at the soft mattress. He really made the bed look like a damn twin size.

You pulled his arms onto the bed, trying to stay cautious and conscious of his body. He didn’t make a noise when you moved his legs apart and moved to the waist of his dirt-encrusted cargo pants. You made a mental note to wash them and switch your sheets. “Simon, I’m taking off your pants so I can see your legs and if you’ve got any more injuries.”

You looked up to him, seeing the slight nod before continuing. You unbuttoned his pants and began to tug them down his legs. You’ve pulled off his pants before, only a handful of times those very fleeting times where he felt safe enough to do so. You didn’t take the time to place the pants anywhere, you just threw them behind you. You examined his legs now, seeing matching purple and black bruises on both of his thighs and calves. Any open wound was stitched either cleanly or messily, obviously at different points in time. The pit in your stomach only grew.

This was your fault. If he hadn’t shoved you out of that second story window, you both would’ve ended up in the claws of Makarov and most likely still being tortured - since it took you pulling every string you had to even get him here to your apartment in Washington, DC. Your hands grabbed your white sheets, pulling them up to cover his body to his waist.

It was strange seeing his face, you felt shame for even pulling the mask off - but you needed to make an assessment of his injuries. You were sure he would probably understand as your hand then rested on his cheek, causing his eye open and gaze up at you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, placing your knee on the mattress to balance yourself. Your hand then moved to his longer dark blonde hair from his forehead. “Can I give you a dose of morphine?”

His fingers grazed your thigh again, your hand retracted from his head. His eyes held a look of longing once your touch had left, but he slowly nodded. You nodded back, moving off of the bed and away from his touch. You then rummaged through your bulletproof vest, finding one of your last single dose morphine shots and an alcohol wipe. You moved back to the bed, sitting near his left hip as your ripped open the alcohol wipe package with your teeth. You then wiped the top of his bicep, pulled the plastic casing off the needle and gently puncturing his bicep. He hissed in pain, you mumbled an apology as you quickly pressed the plunger down and pulled the needle out. You tossed the now used needle and wipe into your trash can on the other side of your night stand.

Ghost’s hand then rested on your thigh, your hand rested upon his as your eyes met his.

“You’ll be safe here, Simon. I’ll make sure of it, okay? Just sleep.” You gently rubbed the back of his hand, a hum rumbled in his chest as his eyes closed then.

If you had an ounce less of guilt, you would have leaned forwards and kissed his face - but you didn’t. You watched and waited with bated breath for him to fall asleep, and after a couple of minutes, he was out. You pulled his hand off of your thigh, opting to place a kiss to his knuckles before resting it back on the bed. You slid off, silently walking back to your living room. You turned off your gas fireplace, the flames flickered out in an instant. You then moved to the coffee table, grabbing the glass and the bottle of expensive wine before dodging the mess of medical supplies, grabbing your phone from the floor and retiring to your bedroom.

You closed the door behind you, moving to settle on the floor. You set the bottle and glass down, eyes watching as the Lieutenant’s chest slowly rose and descended.

Your phone felt heavy in your hand, you looked down at it and unlocked it. You pressed Price’s contact, writing out a message.

We have a problem.

A very tall and injured problem.

———

Copyright © 2022 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[atlaserine]

Now, in your opinion, because I'm struggling with the falling in love part

How do characters fall in love with their enemy realistically? Which isn't love at first sight!

And how do idiots characters keep falling and falling into the hellhole sticky situation that is love with your enemy?

Love,

@heroes-villains-side-blog

Okay so first thing first, just to be clear. I am far from a "writer" so I don't have any experience myself 💀

I'm more of a reader though, to me there's a lot of ways to bring someone to fall in love with their enemy [again, idk much] but if I were to read a book, I'd love to read something like this :

A hates B, like a lot. Literally wants to kill B. B can either hate A back or just playfully hates A back. And then usually there's a third person in the story, someone who sort of breaks the line between good and evil, straight up..all the dark things you could imagine. Twisted, sick, psychopath which I'll call C.

1. C can either wipe everything away which made A and B in a forced proximity (working together to save something) because A is bad but they still have morals/they do the bad things because of a good reason/their ideology. They work together-> becomes close and fall in love

2. C can still be all the above (sick, twisted, psychopath) but add a little bit of ✨charm✨, a little bit of ✨manipulation✨, a truly cunning antagonists suggesting A or B to work with them. Let's say C is working with A now -> B fights two people -> B loses -> C and A wins -> A still wants to kill B but C refuses so C simply turns B into their "pet" or "slave" -> A and C rules the world/anything -> B is not in a good place (tortured? Assaulted? Maybe C has some sick fantasies that A doesn't know of?) -> maybe everyone/some group is looking for B and A hears the rumors -> A scoffs (still hating B) -> A hears that B does something small but good and interesting? Like turns out B would always go to the animal shelter to volunteer or play with the orphanage, charity and what not -> A got a bit piqued of the real "B" Because all A know is the B that B shows to A, the B with ambition and annoyingly good fighting skills and a stubborn righteousness (bcs before this, A never really cared or was interested in B's personal life, just seeing B as an obstacle) -> A gets curious and asks C/finds B themselves -> A finds B -> B is really really down(sad)either dying and what not ->

Now this can either go two way again,

B being so low that they answer anything A asks -> A pities B and becomes soft-> A saves B -> turns out C bad -> A and B defeats C and fell in love in the process.

or ORRR ORRRRR (this is the one I love 😁)

B is dying BUT B is still stubborn and defiant -> A still thinks B is annoying but maybe has a bit of pity and curiosity so A asks B what C did -> ever since B got defeated, B kind of grows a hate for A (and of course, hates C more) but answers anyway...bcs A is forcing B to- -> A shooketh, A was like "holy shit...C did what?", B just stays quiet, not wanting to talk to C and also B is like "yeah, why do you care?" -> A kinds of zips it, but inside, A had a small awakening. Maybe A thought C was someone above, not knowing about this and now is doubting C. -> A goes to find out more while B is still sad and prisoned -> Turns out all B said was true, A's awakening became bigger -> A plots a plan (so this is kind of like evil vs evil but we're trying to make the less evil win) -> maybe B helped? Maybe didn't? Doesn't matter, point is A wins and C is defeated -> A rules now, maybe even sort of owns B in a "you're free to do whatever you want but you're mine (because I saved you) " kind of way/ made a deal with B so now B and A lives peacefully with each other -> BUT THIS TIME B REALLY REALLY REALLY HATES A remembering all the time before C came, A doesn't really care about it -> B kind of stays away from A, ignoring and giving A the cold shoulder -> A becomes annoyed with this attitude and decides to talk about it to B -> they fight, drama, B breaks down, A sighs and is like "..fine, im sorry. I can't stand you ignoring me like this, what do you have in mind?" -> they make a deal -> a bit more freedom for B, maybe B now just works for A with some conditions from B (B doesn't kill or anything) -> they now really do live in peace but still a bit awkward -> B finds someone, a new enemy? A new villain? disguises as a good person. B doesn't know and was leaning to that person's comfort -> A notices and tells B -> B stubborn and defiant -> A is like "fine, do whatever you want" But A had a really bad feeling in their gut, as if they just can't let that happen but acts ignorant on the outside (this, I think I where the romance starts) -> B goes to a date with the person but oh no! A was right all along! Was B going to die? That can't be! B is strong! -> But nope lol, the person turns to be stronger -> A comes out of nowhere (Jk, they've been watching from the bushes) and saves B -> B half heartedly thanked A -> A sighs and was like "look, just let me take care of you alright? You're an idiot and you're too reckless for your own good" -> B is defiant and in denial, "You? I can handle myself. I'm fine" but in the end agrees with A..still half heartedly -> A is in a close proximity with B? B lives with A now? Something like that, now A was soft with B (not in a fluff way) just a normal amount like " I got you food" Or "I got you roses, I heard you like them", or maybe A is in denial themselves thinking they had no feelings for B but A's body is already a machine of self service -> B is shocked but kept themselves from being flattered..because their stubborn, but their heart kind of melted at this point-> something bad happens again, C comes back to live? JKJK this is so unrealistic, maybe a new enemy. Doesn't have to be C, idk -> B's in a life threatening situation -> A saves B and almost dies, giving B their last words -> B was like "no no no, please. I'm sorry. I love you, come back. Come back to me, I'm so sorry" And cried cradling A in their arms-> A shocked, and was like "B loves A?" but they were dying so they just smiled and was going to accept their death -> THEIR LAST KISS????? (Bonus) -> A gods miracle happened / if you want it to be really realistic then maybe A can be saved logically..somehow. -> A and B hugs each other, kiss again bcs why not, happy ending, lives happily ever after with B loving A the fullest and A loving B too but also being so apologetic for trying to kill B in the past, just straight up on their knees worshipping B with love, realizing how much they love B and could even go a bit possessive about B cause they're just naturally selfish. Hhahaha! The end

[amaretigris]

The Possibility of You

Taglist: @luna2034 @notagreekgal28 @hopeisrising @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @freyagallileaevans @daydreamerwithnohobbies @jonahhauer-kingg @jonahmermaid23

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Ch. 3 | 2.4k words | Fluff & smut suggestions

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You strolled into the cafe the next morning feeling quite annoyed that you were up so early without having caffeine yet. You weren't exactly a morning person. You stopped inside the door of the restaurant when you saw Jonah's curls at your table. His back was facing you, so he hadn't seen you just yet, but you felt yourself fluster at the sight of him. What was he doing here already? Quietly walking to your table, you spotted two iced vanilla lattes on the table in front of him.

"Why are you here so early?"

It came out softer than you meant it to. You chalked it up to you not being fully awake yet.

Jonah's bright blue eyes smiled with his lips at the sight of you.

"I wanted to get your coffee for you this morning. I got one for myself to try as well," he slid a cup over to your side of the table as you sat.

You looked to the counter to find Lyle pouting, staring in your direction. The sight made you giggle as you turned back to Jonah.

"Yeah, Lyle wasn't too happy about it," he laughed.

"How was your night?"

Jonah chatted with you while you unpacked your laptop and books. After telling him that your night was fine, you included information that you probably shouldn't have.

"I'm happy that my best friend Vanessa gets back in town today. I've been counting down the days since she left."

Cringe. You sound like a loser.

"Oh, so you're not a total loner?"

Jonah smiled.

"I'm glad that you have someone to confide in. Everyone needs someone like that in their life."

You were getting into the habit of sharing more personal information with Jonah. You needed to get a grip. It hadn't even been a week since you started seeing him daily, and he was already wearing down your defenses.

"Who's your person?"

You were genuinely curious. And maybe if he continued to share information with you it wasn't so bad. It was a mutual exchange.

"My dad," Jonah answered with a soft smile, but it gave way to a frown as he fiddled with the rim of his plastic cup.

"You said he travels for work. I'm sure you must miss him," you watched Jonah's eyes lift to yours again.

"I do, but he should be home soon," he sighed.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to get so personal today."

His statement surprised you.

"Don't apologize," you assured him.

"Thank you for my coffee. You didn't have to do that."

You reached out and brushed your fingers against his knuckles. The sensation instantly sent a surge of goosebumps through your skin, and unbeknownst to you, Jonah experienced the same jolt. You watched his pupils dilate slightly.

"What if one day we could be that for each other?"

You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the question - no, the possibility.

"I can't be your dad if that's what you're asking," you deflected.

That was a classic move of yours. Anytime someone gets close or serious, you have to try to drown it out with humor. Jonah surprised you again when he laughed. A real, genuine laugh, not a polite or mocking one.

"Ah, funny and charming. How delightful," he smiled.

You blushed at his dimples and the sudden compliment. You nervously tucked some stray hairs behind your ear and brought your beverage to your lips with the other hand.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Jonah ducked his head to meet your eyes again.

"I feel as if I've tortured you enough with my presence today. What's your favorite flower?"

"Pink daisies," you admitted.

Jonah nodded, planting his hand on the table.

"I'll get out of your hair," he grabbed his coffee and moved to stand from his seat.

"Wait," you blurted out.

You didn't want him to leave so soon.

"You haven't answered a question for me today. That's the new deal, right?"

Jonah observed you with a smirk, sitting back in his chair.

"Yes, I believe so. Although I thought your question earlier was your one for the day."

You thought back. Shit, that wasn't what you had planned to ask him today. Not that you'd thought about it.

"Oh, no I didn't mean for it to be. Can I have another?"

You tried your best to bat your eyelashes at the stunning man across from you.

"Anything for you, love," Jonah's expression turned more serious.

You fought the new blush creeping up your neck, and spat out your question before you lost the nerve.

"Did you actually sleep with all of the women you took out from campus?"

The idea had admittedly been itching at the back of your brain since you met him. He was charismatic, handsome, and fit. You wouldn't be surprised if he was the playboy you'd heard him described as. All of the easiness dropped from his features at your question, and gave way to a darker expression.

"It seems like someone is trying to get to know me after all," he leaned forward until his face was mere inches from yours.

He then spoke in a low voice only for your ears.

"No, I didn't. I told you that, but no one seems to believe me when I say it. Why do you ask?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat at his proximity. He was even more beautiful up close like this.

"Curiosity, I suppose," you breathed.

He had said that phrase to you before, and you weren't sure that he'd recognize that, but he gave you a knowing smile.

"I welcome the curiosity, but it'd be cruel to give me false hope."

Your eyes bounced between his, then descended to his lips. Jonah's breath hitched in his throat.

"Who said it would be false hope?"

Jonah scrunched his brow as his eyes dipped to your lips as well. He made a tsk sound.

"So many questions today," he whispered.

You didn't know what was happening or how it had happened so quickly, but you felt a magnetic pull to Jonah. You brought your face closer to his, letting your eyes drift back up to his baby blues with a hopeful gleam. Jonah inched his lips closer, and you felt the slightest brush of them when, suddenly, someone loudly cleared their throat next to your table.

The sound startled you and Jonah out of your trance, but Jonah grabbed your upper arms to steady you and keep you from bouncing out of your chair.

"Can we help you?" Jonah snapped at Lyle who stood there with a mischievous grin.

"I just came to see if the lady needed a refill on her drink," Lyle cast a glance to you.

"No, Lyle, I still have over half left," you let out an annoyed sigh at the intrusion.

Lyle nodded.

"Okay, carry on," he left after throwing Jonah another smug smile.

Jonah shoved his hand through his curls.

"Fucking wanker. He's down bad for you."

You wore a sad smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd actually interrupt us like that."

Jonah reached across the table to grab your hand.

"Why are you apologizing? Don't be silly."

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You know, we could meet up somewhere besides the cafe, and that wouldn't be a problem," Jonah suggested.

You pursed your lips in thought. You couldn't imagine being alone with Jonah in private; not after the attraction you'd just experienced. You feared all your inhibitions would fly out the window. You rubbed your thumb across Jonah's knuckles. The skin was shockingly smooth.

"Like where?"

You hated to admit that you were debating it. You felt like your were caving too easily.

"Anywhere. The theater, a restaurant off campus, or my house even," Jonah stroked your wrist.

"Don't give me false hope," you repeated back to him.

"Darling," Jonah chuckled, "I couldn't if I tried."

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You thought about your almost kiss for the rest of the day. Jonah's lips had touched yours ever so slightly, and you tried to memorize the way they felt - soft and pliant. You had to make it through your lectures, and then you could go see Vanessa. The two of you had so much to catch up on.

Later that evening, you swung the door open to your apartment, and put your keys in the bowl by the door.

"Hello?" You called out.

You heard footsteps racing down the hall, and Vanessa came barreling around the corner.

"Hi!" She squealed as she snatched you up in a hug.

You laughed, hugging her back.

"I missed you," you squeezed her extra tight.

"I missed you too," she outstretched her arms to give you a once over.

"I'm sorry you couldn't come on our family trip this year because of that stupid midterm," Vanessa rolled her eyes.

"It's okay," you shrugged. "It hasn't been all bad."

Vanessa gave you a curious look.

"Oh, it hasn't? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" She joked.

You playfully swatted her arm.

"My early mornings at the campus cafe have gotten more interesting lately. A guy started noticing me and I've been seeing him every day since," you started, ducking your eyes away from Vanessa.

"What?! Why am I just now hearing about this?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes.

"I didn't want to intrude on your family time. I know how much you love the annual trips," you excused.

"Yeah, whatever," Vanessa waved her hands dismissively.

"So who's the guy?"

You bit your lip with a grimace.

"You know the new foreign exchange student, Jonah?"

Another squeal pierced your ears.

"Bitch, shut up. No it's not, is it?"

You reluctantly nodded. This was the real reason you hadn't told your roommate yet. You knew she'd make a big deal out of it.

"It is, but so far it's nothing serious. Nothing may even come of it," you shrugged again.

"What do you mean nothing may come of it? That is one hot piece of ass. If you don't pounce on that, I will," Vanessa fanned herself for dramatic effect.

"Wait," she added. "So have you gotten his number yet?"

You gulped.

"I just got it today. I haven't texted him yet...," you trailed off.

The memory of Jonah typing his number into your phone and sliding it back across the table replayed in your mind.

"There. Now you can text me anytime you like, sweetheart. Or not. You do love to keep me on my toes," he winked at you.

"(Y/N)? Hello?" Vanessa burst your thought bubble as she grabbed your arms and shook you.

"What?"

Vanessa laughed.

"Someone had a dreamy look in their eye thinking about him. I asked you a question. I asked if you guys were planning to go on a date soon."

"Oh, um, maybe," you were getting a little flustered at the thought.

"He mentioned something about that today, but nothing's set in stone yet."

"Well, you need to text him!" Vanessa encouraged.

"I will, but, um," you were almost embarrassed to ask.

"What are the rumors you've heard about him?"

You swore Vanessa's grin almost split her cheeks.

"Oh, they're great. You know all the women he dated on campus?"

You reluctantly nodded.

"Well, supposedly, he only ever took a handful of them home. And when he did take them home, he didn't sleep with them. He only serviced them, then sent them on their way," she snickered.

Your mouth fell open.

"Serviced them?"

Vanessa nodded.

"Yeah, apparently he has a thing for eating women out. But he never wanted it reciprocated, and he never actually had sex with any of them. He sent the two or three chicks he did it for straight home after it was over."

Your heart rate spiked. Why was that so hot?

"What? Why would he do that?"

Vanessa gave a lazy shrug.

"I don't know, but like I said, if you don't hop on that train, I will," she winked at you.

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That night when you got in bed after you and Vanessa had caught up, you stared up at the ceiling trying to process the information you learned earlier. You hadn't texted Jonah yet. You didn't know if you wanted to after that. It had excited you more than it should have. How could he be so selfless, wanting to give pleasure out to others, only to receive none in return? It didn't make sense.

You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to will the mental image of Jonah's curls between your legs out of your mind. You kicked the covers off of you in a huff, wondering why the hell you couldn't force yourself to sleep. You could text Jonah. Maybe he'd still be up. You could ask him about it yourself. The very thought made your adrenaline spike.

You picked up your phone, and pulled up Jonah's contact information. You chewed on your bottom lip, debating your next course of action. You could call him. You wanted to hear him say it. Something about hearing the words come out of his mouth enticed you. You pressed the call button, shakily pressing the phone to your ear.

The phone rang a couple times, and you closed your eyes. Why the hell would he answer a random call at this hour? He didn't even have your number saved yet because he'd given you the option to reach out to him. And now you are because you're sexually frustrated. What an idiot. You sighed, and you were about to hang up when a deep voice answered the call.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" You cringed, biting your thumb nail.

"No, I was just resting my eyes. It's good to hear your voice, (Y/N)."

You smiled.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your rest. I couldn't sleep."

"Stop apologizing. Why can't you sleep, love?"

"Vanessa came home today. I was so happy to see her. I asked her to actually tell me what they say about you. The rumors..."

The line was silent for a beat. You almost checked the screen to see that the call was still connected, until you heard a low groan on Jonah's end. He spoke in a dark, dangerous voice.

"What exactly did she tell you?"