#i've never had road rage. but fuck. THAT gave me rage.

[msbigredmachine]

Warm (Jey Uso/OC)

An on-again, off-again couple takes the snowy ride to the next town together.

PAIRING: Jey Uso x OC

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning: The usual smut and everything in between.

A/N: First fic of the year! Enjoy!

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Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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"Hey girl, got a sec?"

Looking up to see Nia standing right in front of her, Malia stood up straighter. The locker room was full of her friends and fellow wrestlers, all done for the evening and packing up to leave the arena. "What's up?"

"I totally forgot that I agreed to carpool with Maxxine after the show," she said as they exited the locker room together. "I'm really sorry, it totally slipped my mind."

"Oh, that sucks," Malia said, a little disappointed as Nia was great company. "It's no big deal. I'll figure something out."

"Are you sure? It's starting to snow out there. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Alone on the road with full control of the heating and my own playlist?" Malia laughed. "I'll be fine."

Nia nodded. "Okay. I feel bad, so I'll ask around and see if anyone needs a ride. That way you can split the bills and stuff," she offered, pausing when she looked over Malia's shoulder. "Oooh, look who's coming our way," she grinned.

Curious, Malia turned around, and her heart skipped a beat as Josh Fatu walked in their direction, his carry-on behind him and his phone in front of him. She plastered an unbothered expression on her face and turned back to Nia, but the Irresistible Force saw right through the facade.

"Girl, you're blushing already!" she cackled. "You and him still fucking?"

"No, I'm not blushing. And no, we're not fucking," Not lately anyway, Malia added to herself, fluffing her Afro as nonchalantly as possible.

"Liar. You two crack me up, you're totally in love with each other but keep acting like you're not. I did warn you about the whole friends-with-benefits thing."

She did. And Malia caught feelings and had been trying to run from those feelings since. But not with much success, given that she and Josh were both part of the Monday Night Raw roster and lived in the same goddamn city which gave him plenty of access to her. The problem was she was falling in love and he wasn't, so she tried to save face by imposing an extended 'break' from each other, under the guise of 'seeing other people'. Being alone with him on a long midnight drive wasn't going to help her cause to break away.

"It's a three-hour trip from here to Cleveland. Think you can hold off for that long if you go together?" Nia asked, a little too gleefully for Malia's taste.

"Stop with the slander. You make it sound like I'm this raging nympho," she rebuffed.

"When it comes to him? Yes! I've witnessed it! You jump each other's bones every chance you get. How you guys aren't official, I'll never understand. He's getting closerrrr," Nia sang, clearly enjoying the way Malia was trying not to squirm. "Let me go talk to him."

Malia started to panic as Nia moved towards him. "Where are you going?" she warned, "Nia, no!"

"Um, you want a ride or not? Hey, Joshyyyy!"

"Savelina!" Malia hissed, falling silent when Josh looked up from his phone, his gaze lingering on her for a long, tense beat before moving to Nia. "Sup ladies," he said, tipping his bearded chin up in greeting. His jaw moved repeatedly, and she saw he was chewing gum when he opened his mouth to speak. Juicy Fruit, she predicted. His favorite.

"I heard you're driving by yourself tonight," Nia said to him.

His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Yeah..."

"You want a passenger? Cuz my girl over here needs someone to ride with, in more ways than one..."

"Lina, shut up," Malia cut in, stepping in front of her and meeting Josh head-on. "Forgive our friend, Becky hit her in the head too many times tonight," she explained, her insides warming when Jey laughed. "I was supposed to carpool with bitch over here but she made other plans and left me stranded. So umm...if you're going alone, would you mind if I tagged along?" Why the fuck did she sound like she was asking him to Prom?

Again, the air around them simmered with an unknown element. When he took longer than usual to respond, her heart sank a little. "It's cool if you don't want to, I can find someone else-"

"Nah, it's all good, uce, you can come along," he spoke up with a smile. "But I'm 'bout to leave right now, so if you ready-"

"I am," Malia answered, a bit too quickly, and flushed with embarrassment when the corner of his mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. It was then she realized that Nia had disappeared, leaving the two standing alone in the empty hallway.

"Uhh...We should get going," Malia spoke up, scratching awkwardly at the nape of her curly Afro.

Josh nodded, pausing as his eyes scanned her up and down again. "This what you wearin'?" he inquired.

She made a quick, albeit thorough twirl to show off her outfit, a short, figure-hugging beige dress accompanied by a black pair of furry knee-high Uggs. "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"

"It's a lil' chilly, no? I mean, don't get me wrong, you look real good, it's just-" Catching himself, he trailed off nervously before he could say anything else inappropriate.

"My jacket is right here, I'll be fine. But if I do get too cold, I'm sure you can keep me warm." Her smile was syrupy sweet as she let the innuendo sink in. The awkwardness was melting away, leaving only the sexual synergy they were both accustomed to.

Josh chuckled to himself and stepped closer to her. "A'ight, I see what'chu tryna do," he said in a lower, huskier timbre that made her loins flutter. "Let's get outta here before I do sum'n we'll both like."

She wanted to ask what was stopping him but instead took the hand he held out to her. It was big and protective and the gentle way he rubbed his thumb over hers always made her feel safe. Together they left the building and into the indoor parking lot. He helped her put her things in the trunk of his Ford Expedition rental, and she fought the urge to stare at his ass when he bent over.

As they began their journey, her gaze landed on her on-again, off-again 'boyfriend', his own fixed on the road ahead. Wearing a fitting dual-colored Nike tracksuit, he looked yummy himself. The hand that had held hers was now on the steering wheel, and she found herself wishing it was touching her again but on a more risqué part of her body this time. They were on a 'break' but she envisioned a lot of difficulty keeping things platonic tonight.

"Since when do you listen to Bon Jovi?" She broke the ice several minutes later, talking over the eighties rock ballad that was playing on the radio and was surprised it hadn't been turned off. "You always used to tell me to change that shit," she laughed.

"They not so bad, they got some good workout songs," he defended with a shrug. "How come you didn't take a flight tonight?" he asked.

She gave a shrug of her own. "I don't know. I probably should have. But with the weather and everything, there'd probably be tons of delays at the airport. I would have ended up sitting there all night. How about you?"

"Same. I prefer the open road anyway," he replied. "Drive fast, blast some good music, you know what it is." He shot her a grin, making selections on the GPS. "Everything good? You comfortable?"

Smoothing her dress down her crossed legs, she nodded and tilted her seat back. "Yeah, I'm good," she responded.

"So how was Christmas? Whatchu do? Spend time with your man?" Josh asked.

Malia snorted and flipped her hair. "Ain't no man. He's an insecure bum so he's gone. I stayed with my brother and his family for a few days, played with my nieces, they're so big now."

He wanted to feel bad about the way his heart leapt for joy about her relationship status. "I told you he was a bum from the jump, uce," he mumbled.

"Well, you were right. Congrats," she bit sarcastically.

"I ain't wanna be right though. I just want you to be happy," said Josh, exchanging a glance with her, his stare filled with its familiar warmth that was charged with something else.

Being here is a bad idea.

"What about you? You were with your boys and their mom, I'm guessing," she kept the conversation going.

"More of the boys, less of their mom," he clarified.

"That's it? No woman to warm your bed?"

He snorted and shot her a bombastic side-eye. "If I remember clearly, you sent the last woman I was with packin', with your razor-sharp ass tongue."

Malia burst out laughing. "Ha, that bitch? She's a clout-chasing airhead. One conversation with her and my IQ got fucked up. Stop messin' with those NXT bimbos, Joshua. It's not a good look."

"Why you so pressed though?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.

"I'm not pressed. You smarter than that. She wasn't good for you."

"And you know this, how?"

Because she ain't me. None of them are. "I just know," was all she said.

"Huh. We seem to 'know' a lot about each other," Josh noted, "So why don't you want us to stay together?" he asked.

And there it is. "You already know the answer," she responded, with a hint of attitude.

"No I don't, so how 'bout you fill me in, huh," he retorted. They had stopped at a red light so he now had all the time to look her in the eye.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, she refused to get suckered in. "Because. Your roster is deep enough as it is," she mumbled.

"What roster?"

Malia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, we gonna play dumb now? I'm not the only woman you're fucking, Joshua."

"The last person I had sex with was you, right before you dumped me for ol' boy," Josh replied, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Correction. I did not dump you. Dumping implies that we were dating," Malia argued. "I distinctly remember you saying you weren't looking for nothin' serious, so it ain't dumping if there's no relationship to dump."

The silence that followed was deafening, even with the music playing. The temperature in the car plummeted several degrees. Josh simply shook his head. "Damn, that how you feel all this time? Okay then." he tsked, releasing the brakes as the light turned green. "A'ight. Note taken."

The hurt swirling in his voice surprised her. Rattled, she opened her mouth to speak, but wisely decided to close it back. Because there really was nothing to say. This was the consequence of getting involved with someone without setting clear boundaries; the result of repeatedly holding off the simple task of defining a relationship — nothing but uncertainty and heartache. It was the bed she made long ago and now she had to lie in it.

But oddly enough, that seemed to be the appeal of entanglements; the thrill, the warped sense of freedom to do whatever you wanted to each other with no strings. But intimacy always had its attachments, and Malia had been attached to Josh for a long, long time with no idea how to cut the strings without getting hurt.

"The snow seems to be getting worse," she changed the subject and with good reason. They seemed to be driving into a storm. The snowfall was heavier and the nearly empty highway was turning white. "Are you sure we'll make it into Cleveland like this?"

Her question was answered only a few seconds later, by the flashing lights and flares up ahead. A car wreck, and a bad one judging from the amount of fire, rescue, and police crews on the scene. As Josh slowed the car to a crawl, they were greeted by a gruesome tableau.

The many bright, flashing lights cast a grotesque glow on the crumpled remains of an SUV. A black bag, zipped and strapped to a stretcher, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Malia's eyes widened with horror. The mangled car was the same type as theirs, and the driver's seat was covered in blood, a lot of it splattered on the white snow. "Oh no...Babe..." she breathed.

Her voice was tiny. Scared. Josh grabbed her hand and squeezed it repeatedly to get her attention. "Ay, don't look. Look at me," he cajoled, waiting for her to do so, running his thumb over hers to quell her panic. "I'll take the next exit. Let's find somewhere to crash until morning." He cringed. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."

"You don't mind stopping?" she asked, feeling a little sick. There was no way she was going any further with what she'd just witnessed.

"Personally, I'd rather be late gettin' where I'm going than never gettin' there at all."

"I agree. I'll check if there's any available hotels nearby," she offered, reaching for her phone in the console.

"You good?" he checked on her again, his fingers flexing around hers.

"I'm okay. It's just...that was horrible," Malia shuddered. "But you calmed me down. You've always been good at that." She smiled gratefully at him.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss. He then rested his hand on her bare leg, running it up her smooth chocolate skin. Ironically, her dress gave him perfect access to the sensitivity of her inner thigh, and he allowed his fingers to dance over it.

Malia cast her eyes down to watch his hand disappear under her dress. This was what she liked about him so much; his boldness, his sense of adventure. Only he could dare to touch on her while driving on a dark, sleety highway. "Boy, what are you doin'?" she asked as he squeezed her thigh. She tried to play it cool, tried to act like her skin had not been set ablaze by his touch.

"Keepin' you warm," he affirmed nonchalantly, as he slid his palm over her lace panties, his favorite on her, enjoying the feel of her moist warmth against the fabric. He had since learned that he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "I miss you," he whispered, breaching her underwear with one finger.

"I miss you too," she admitted, jerking as the finger slipped inside of her. "Oh, shit," she gasped, tilting her head back against the leather headrest.

"Phew, you wet as fuck," Josh whistled, eyeing up his ex with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Ol' boy wasn't fuckin' you like he should?"

Before she could answer, he slid another digit into her wetness, drawing another moan from her. She moved her legs further apart, causing her dress to ride higher up, and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Fuck, yeah," she sighed, going slack in her seat.

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, Josh realized, as the sound of her wanton moans filled the car. As her pussy tightened around his fingers. He wasn't doing much for his own erect state by doing this, but the look on her face convinced him to keep going. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. "How's that feel, hmm?" he asked.

The only response she could muster was another breathy moan while strengthening her grip on his wrist. She didn't want to come just yet, but between his fingers twisting deep inside her tightening core and the added heat rushing through her, she knew she wouldn't last long. She wanted this to last forever, just like every time she was with him; she clung desperately to every second, because each one was always better than the last. He just hit different. He always did.

The spell broke when she heard him curse and he abruptly stopped, slipping his fingers out of her. "The fuck?" she whined.

"Sorry, I had to," Josh explained, pointing. The smoky haze of passion and frustration cleared quickly enough for her to realize they had left the expressway and were now pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. Crossing her arms petulantly, she sat up straighter and pouted. "Goddamn tease. You ain't slick," she grumbled.

"Nope. But you are," he emphasized, holding up his fingers covered in her essence and bringing them to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet and spicy, like always."

His dirty snicker had her pussy clenching again. This man was going to be the death of her.

Parking the Expedition in front of the hotel door, they rushed in with their bags to the check-in desk and found the exhausted-looking receptionist behind the counter. It was clear they'd had a massive influx of people and that she was the only one handling everything.

"You're just in luck. We have one room left," the lady replied when Josh asked her if they had any vacancies. "It's probably our smallest room and only has one queen-sized bed, but it's perfect for a lovely couple like yourselves," she smiled warmly.

"We'll take it," Josh responded, handing over his credit card before Malia could reject it. Given the state of the weather outside and that horrendous crash they came across, it was likely the best, safest option.

They got the keycards and made a quick stop at the nearby Chipotle to get some food. Josh paid again, boxing Malia against the counter with his big frame and frowning menacingly at the cashier who had the nerve to flirt with her. Though there technically was no territory to mark, she didn't mind. Besides, it was cold outside and his body heat was inviting and much needed. Afterwards, they returned to the hotel and made it into the small room that was warm, toasty, and quite clean, making them feel a bit better that they wouldn't be stuck in some Bates Motel-type murder house.

"Last time we were stuck in a room together, we spent all afternoon working out how many pinning combinations we could make each other come in," Malia reminisced as she bit into her burrito.

"Yeah. I remember winning," Josh grinned proudly. "You can have the bed, by the way," he gestured to her. "Imma sleep on the couch, give you some space."

"Why?" Malia gave him a stern look. "The bed is big enough for both of us. Plus, your back will be fucked up if you sleep on that lil ass couch."

She wasn't wrong; the couch felt rather firm and it wouldn't be pleasant. Josh was trying to be a gentleman, but he ultimately agreed since driving tomorrow with a backache did not sound ideal.

After finishing their meals, they settled in, and Malia texted the Talent Relations rep to inform them of her and Josh's whereabouts. Unfortunately, the weather forecast on TV was pretty grim as they were expecting upwards of forty inches of snow. Getting to their destination in time tomorrow would be a tough ask.

Josh used the bathroom first to give Malia some privacy. When he re-emerged, she was stripped down to a short white bathrobe that did nothing to hide that body of hers, giving him a little peek of her voluptuous behind as she picked up her toilet bag.

Fuck.

"Babe, do you got a spare shirt I can sleep in?" She stood back upright, her throat drying up at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. She watched the rivulets of water drip down his tattooed chest and felt parched.

Josh swallowed. "Sure, I got somethin'." He crossed the room, reached inside his open luggage and pulled out a 'YEET' hoodie. "This okay?"

He gazed into her eyes, and Malia felt her knees quiver, almost like they were threatening to collapse beneath her. "Yeah, thanks," she smiled, taking the hoodie.

"You called me babe again." There was a small, teasing smile on his face.

Malia felt her face burn. "Oh, um...Yeah. Habit. Sorry..." Lost for words, she quickly departed, silently willing her limbs to not give out on her.

Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Josh sank down on the bed and tried to focus on the TV. He could hear her moving around. Brushing her teeth. Undressing. Rubbing his face, he groaned when he heard the shower start. After their argument in the car and what he did afterwards, his emotions were all over the place, and now they had to share this bed. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be a tough ask.

Keep your hands to yourself, Malia repeated to herself over and over as she finished up her skincare routine. It's just one night. Behave yourself. What happened in the car meant nothing.

Yes it did, the voice she fondly named 'Delulu', debated, He misses you, he said so himself. That's why he acted the way he did in the car. That's why he almost bit that cashier's head off in Chipotle.

She had a point. She recalled the full-blown lust in his eyes as he touched her, the eager movement of his fingers inside her as though he couldn't stop himself. Overall, it felt good to know he wasn't quite over her just as she wasn't quite over him.

Don't do it, her other voice, dubbed 'You Right' because it always was, warned. You're just his plaything, always have been. Why do you want to play house with a guy who doesn't love you like you love him? He just misses the pussy. That's it.

Good point.

But I miss the dick too! 'Delulu' pouted.

'You Right' rolled her eyes. Too bad. Take another shower, a cold one this time.

With a heavy sigh, Malia wrapped up her hair and put on her pajamas for the night. The hoodie was big on her, reaching her thighs. She decided against panties, having made up her mind about the voice she was going to listen to.

She returned to the warmth of the bedroom, instantly landing on the ruggedly handsome man stretched out on the left side of the bed. His favorite side. His gaze flickered from the TV to her, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"You make my merch look so sexy, baby," he commented.

"Why thank you Daddy," she replied, then froze, her eyes wide. Shit, did she just say that out loud? Judging from the heated look in his eyes, the answer was yes. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as they regarded each other.

Sitting up straight in the bed, Josh clapped his hands. "A'ight, enough of this. Come here," he growled.

She thought he would never ask. She hurried to the bed and crawled towards him. He sat up straighter and reached for her, their lips crashing together before he had finished pulling her onto his lap. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of them both as they kissed like the desperate, needy souls they had become. They only pulled back long enough to take off his t-shirt before they embraced again. His bronzed skin was warm underneath her palms, the touch of his hands seemingly burning through the hoodie onto her own.

Without breaking the kiss, Josh shifted so that they were lying on their sides, helping her tug his sweatpants down his hips. Once they were gone, he pulled her tightly against him as he slid his leg between hers, draping her top leg over his waist. He then pushed his hands under her hoodie, his fingers digging into her waist to grind her against his thigh. Malia smiled at his surprised gasp, his realization that she was wearing his merch and only that. She knew he could feel the moistness of her core, smearing his upper thigh as their kisses got even more heated. She let him pull off the hoodie, and Josh's eyes blazed with need as he gathered her right breast in his hand and devoured it with sucks and licks. Meanwhile her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking for a few moments before easing him inside her.

"Oh, shit," Josh froze, his expression slightly panicked, "I ain't got-"

"Calm down, I still got my IUD. You good." She kissed his lips and reared back a little, letting him push fully inside her, and he ripped his mouth from hers in a low groan and tucked his face in her neck.

"Fuck, Malia..."

She moaned with him, gripping his muscular shoulders as he moved inside her, and groaned again when his hand scraped down her back to squeeze her ass cheek tightly.

"Mmmph..."

"Yeah, I know you like that," he whispered, slapping her ass this time, his breath hot and heavy against her face. "Say my name baby, call out for me."

"Joshua...Daddy..."

"Mm-hmm, I love it. God, you're fuckin' beautiful," he said, his voice rough with need as he tongue-kissed her slowly, matching his grinding thrusts, sending chills running all over her body.

"Ohhh," she gasped, tensing in his arms, bewildered by her desire for him.

"Relax. I gotchu," he promised with another hungry, borderline sloppy kiss. He was nearing the pit of her stomach with his lengthening strokes, but he wanted more. He held up her thick thigh, automatically sliding him even deeper inside her. A big smile lit up his face as her mouth fell open; he knew she could feel all of it, the head of his dick toying with her g-spot, her breathing quickening as her slick moisture made its presence known with every push of his dick into her.

"Hear that?" Josh whispered, "Hear how wet you are?"

Malia dug her nails into his skin, staccato breaths pulling from her lungs as he rammed up into her again and again. "Shit," she whined, "Aw fuck, please don't stop," she begged, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of him ceasing his actions.

"I ain't stoppin' baby." He couldn't seem to stop kissing her, doing it again as he increased his speed, his dick all up in her wet pussy. The sensations were dizzying, taking her to another dimension. "Uuuunh," she cried out with a shudder, the flutter of her pussy around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

"You wanna come, babe? Wanna come for Daddy huh?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his hypnotic eyes holding her gaze as her whimpers for him grew louder. "Come, Malia," he urged with gritted teeth, his heart pounding from the emotions vibrating through him. "Come, baby girl. Nut on Daddy's dick. You look so beautiful when you come."

Malia heard what sounded like waves crashing in her ears. Immediately her body seized up, and her voice was a high-pitched cry as the pleasure ripped through her. Moaning his name repeatedly, her head fell back and she saw stars as the bliss took over.

Man, she missed being touched like this, kissed like this...fucked like this.

Still trembling, she was vaguely aware of him pulling out, letting her leg down and rolling on top of her. Stroking her face, he stared at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness and something else she couldn't quite determine in his eyes.

"What?" she pressed.

Josh licked his lips, looked away for a second and then back at her.

"I love you."

She expected to be shocked, stunned by his declaration. Instead, it felt more like a eureka moment, like she had finally cracked a passcode she had been struggling with for eons, like the world had at last righted itself after an eternity of confusion.

"What took you so long?" she asked, emotion seeping through her tone.

"I don't know," he confessed, and when her brows furrowed, he elaborated. "I just know I can't do this no more. I'm fuckin' tired. I been feelin' this way for too long. You the only one that makes me feel like this."

"Like how?" she breathed. She wanted to hear it, wanted to know if his agony has been anything similar to hers for the past couple of months.

"Like I'm empty inside when I'm not with you. Even when I'm with someone else, I feel like I'm cheating on you," he went on, suddenly feeling free, unburdened. "I can't stop thinking about you, can't function...I don't just want sex, Malia. That's all good but I wanna be your man. For real this time. I want you."

There it was again, that intensity in his eyes that never failed to steal what was left of her breath. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. "I love you too. I wanna be with you. Let's not break up ever again. I don't like not being around you," she admitted.

"Same here," he said, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was so passionate, so deep and all-consuming, that she struggled to hang on to her sanity. She groaned against his mouth as he found his way back inside her with a couple of swift, seamless strokes. Her wetness instantly enveloped him again, prompting his hips to roll seemingly on their own accord. Malia wound her arms around him, holding him as close to her as possible. There was no more talk after that, letting their bodies do the talking, writhing together as if they were meant to exist that way.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he told her.

Immediately, she wound them around his waist with her ankles locked tight behind his lower back as he rocked into her. She moved with him, matching his tempo in a sweet symphony. There was no space between their flesh; and whatever tiny space remained was closed off with delicious, decadent kisses with lots of tongue. They savored every second in each other, every gasp and moan they elicited from the other. Her wetness compromised the friction between them as his dick slipped in and out of her with ease that still kept her walls snug and taut around him.

"God, you feel so good, baby," she moaned in his ear, weaving her fingers through his soft hair, anchoring him to her as though fearful that he would slip away at any given moment.

"I can feel you dripping all over my dick. You make me wanna pound this good pussy," he mumbled against her neck, his tongue swiping over her heated skin.

"Then pound it," she murmured, spearing him with a hot, hungry look when their eyes met. "Pound my pussy, Daddy, I need it," she practically begged, her voice a pleading whine.

"Bet." Caressing her thighs for a few seconds, he then propped her legs on each of his broad shoulders. Her gaze met the ceiling, clouded over with lust as he hunched over her, working his big dick in her. All she could see within the bluish hue of the small room was his larger, muscular body looming over her, like a glowing, almost nightclub-like dreamscape. His chest tattoos were a beautiful mural that she couldn't stop herself from worshiping, and she leaned up to drag her tongue along his nipple, flicking the hard bud playfully as she caressed his triceps. She was rewarded with harder snaps of his hips, his balls mashing against her ass from how deep he was digging. Every time she tried to look at it, she would grow weak from the sensitivity and fall back against the bed.

"Fuck, Joshua..."

"Mmhmm, I know it feel good. Your tight little pussy is creaming for me," he rasped. Holding her down to the bed, he circled his hips while buried in her for good measure, making her pussy greedily grip the entirety of his girthy length and wringing moans of pleasure from both of them. Dipping her hand down between her thighs, she rubbed on her clit only for her eyes to roll back as an intense fire lit inside her like a firework. Then, clearly intending to destory her, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding them to his chest as he thrust faster and harder.

"Oh my god," Malia sighed, planting one hand up against the headboard to steady herself. She could feel her breasts bouncing recklessly with each stroke, felt his long fingers grab one and massage it in his hands, then the other, arousing her even more. His dick pulsed inside her as she tightened around him with increasing frequency. She willingly let him take her as he wanted, because she wanted to feel all of him, savor the sight of him breaking down and plunging headfirst into that secret place of pleasure that belonged to them and them alone.

The tricky part was Josh wanted to take her there first. He switched up again by pinning her knees into the pillow on either side of her head, opening her wide. He fucked her like a man possessed, the force of his movements knocking the bed hard and repeatedly against the wall. His hard, pounding thrusts had her pushing her face into the pillow and screaming into it. They hoped the room was soundproof. Either way, he didn't stop, not until the coil inside her body unraveled, and Malia screamed again as she came, hard and hot, her orgasm flushing through her like a tidal wave. It was the sweetest, the realest, the product of the joining of not just their bodies, but something deeper, too.

Josh must have been thinking the same thing, because when he stopped to stare her down again with those beautiful eyes of his, they glittered with warmth and affection. They gazed at each other, the stunned joy of their shared feelings morphing into something richer, something fiercer. He really did love her, she could see it right there on his face. She didn't quite know how she managed to miss it before.

The air between them thickened as they remembered they were still naked and entwined. Reverting back to their primal, passionate state, Josh moved again, thrusting all up in her dripping tightness. Malia gripped his hips to pull him deeper, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pounded into her with newfound ruthlessness. The mattress squeaked underneath them, mixing with their moans and whimpers and the wet slapping sounds of their bodies. He was close; his strokes became increasingly erratic, his grunts heavier and more vocal, his cock pulsing inside her pussy and his balls tightening.

"Fuuuck, I'm comin' baby, come catch this nut," he pulled out of her and quickly straddled her torso, stroking his dick in her face. Malia opened her mouth wide and poked out her tongue, watching his gorgeous face twist in painful pleasure as he unloaded in her mouth, thick spurts of his salty sweet cum flooding her tongue. Completely turned on, she rubbed herself with one hand and grabbed his dick with the other, stroking him harder to milk him to the last drop. His deep, throaty groan broke her all over again, plummeting her into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer power of his.

Josh's chest heaved as he watched her slap his dick on her open tongue, coated white with his release. He then ordered in a husky voice, "Swallow it."

Malia obeyed heartily, slipping his cum down her throat then gently sucked him off for a couple of seconds, moaning softly from the unique taste of him mixed with her. Josh fought off the urge to nudge his dick deeper into her mouth and pulled away to lie down next to her. The realization of what had just happened must have hit both of them at the same time, because with one glance at each other, they burst out laughing.

"Damn," was all she had the energy to utter, allowing him to pull her against him as their joint laughter rumbled between them. He fucked the shit out of her. She felt like a brand new woman, even now, as he ran his hands all over her body, gifting her with a breathless kiss to her succulent lips. "I guess Lina's plan worked," she giggled, snuggling against him.

"Yeah," Josh agreed, his features suddenly serious as he carefully tucked a loose piece of her hair back underneath her scarf. "I ain't like how you be pushin' me away, Malia," he grumbled, "Don't be scared of us and what we got."

Not for the first time, she wished she'd been brave enough to express her true feelings. "It's not you I'm scared of... I'm scared of us falling apart if we become serious, and I don't wanna live without you," she confessed.

Josh chuckled and pressed his mouth to each of her palms. "You already can't," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smacked his arm. "You don't gotta agree."

"It's the truth though. But like I said, I love you and I'm not going anywhere. I mean that," he promised.

Hearing those three words from him again made her feel all giddy inside. "I love you, too," she whispered, smiling softly against his lips when he dropped a tender kiss to hers.

"How long's it been since we last fucked?" he inquired.

Two months and three weeks, but who was counting? "Couple of months," she answered, keeping it cool.

"Shame on us. I think we can make up for it, right?"

Malia raised an eyebrow when he started to crawl down her body, sprinkling butterfly kisses down her belly until his head was between her legs. Her body flushed with need. "You know we need to go to bed, right?" she questioned, her fingers sneaking into his hair despite her half-hearted protest.

"I know. But this pretty pussy is callin' my name." He winked at her and bit gently on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her throbbing treasure, soothing the skin with a wet lick. Her keening moan was all he needed to hear. "Now lay your sexy ass back and let Daddy eat."

And with that, he bent his head and spread his mouth over her, wiping every rational thought she owned with mind blowing pleasure.

THE END

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

So...did you like it?

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[farity]

Obsession, part 17

He was driving his truck, the furniture making a racket in the back as well as blocking a lot of his sight.

Lucerys Velaryon.

He could see the little shit's dark hair as he sped down the highway in his convertible, and a moment of impulse made him turn to follow him.

At first Luke didn't see him, didn't notice, lost in his stupid music, but when he did, even from where he sat, Aemond could see his face drain of color.

He pushed down on the pedal, swerving around another car to follow Luke, and the younger man - the boy, really - looked at him in the rearview mirror.

He remembered the taunting, the mocking, and that fateful fight when he'd lost his eye. The taunting and the mocking hadn't stopped, and rage filled him as he bumped the front of the trunk against the convertible's rear bumper.

Luke's mouth dropped and Aemond laughed.

There was a small driveway coming up and Aemond guessed that Luke would take it, try to get away. He guessed correctly, and he, too, swerved hard to take the turn. His truck, overloaded with furniture, as well as age, almost left the road so he compensated, his foot never leaving the gas pedal.

Overcompensated.

The old, cantankerous truck, decided to lurch at the wrong moment, and slid across the road to crash into Luke's little car, sending it careening off the road.

Aemond stopped, the air now too silent, until he heard no more.

* * * * *

You'd fallen asleep on the sofa, after reading the same page for hours and not really seeing a single word, and woke up to a knock on the door.

Helaena was calling your name, knocking over and over until you rushed, tripping over furniture, fighting the remnants of sleep to get to the door.

You opened it and saw only bad news in her face.

"He's alive."

You understood immediately. "Take me to him." Your voice was steady, despite the fear that gripped every muscle in your body. You took your phone with you and nothing else, and followed Helaena to car, where Aegon stood by the driver's side. He rushed to give you a big hug when he saw you, and then got in and started the car.

The drive to the private airport was short, and then you were on your way to Evenfall Hall in Tarth.

"He was hit in the chest," Helaena explained, "but his heart was beating when they flew back from Storm's End. He's in Selwyn's private clinic now."

You nodded, wanting nothing more than to see your husband. The thought of him hurt, of him bleeding . . . of course you knew it was always a possibility, but having it actually happen, it was your worst nightmare come true.

"Selwyn likes having the best working for him," Aegon said, but he looked worried. As worried as you'd ever seen him.

Soon enough you were landing in Tarth, the natural beauty of the place, which you'd heard so much about, completely lost on you as you were driven to the medical center.

One of the clinic's staff was waiting at the door as you, Aegon, and Helaena arrived. She shook hands with you all and then began explaining that Aemond had lost a lot of blood and had a partially collapsed lung. "He is stable, and the fact that he survived the surgery is a good sign. He is strong and healthy and now we wait."

"My mother will be flying in from Lannisport."

"We will have rooms ready for everyone, including Mrs. Targaryen." The woman looked at you. "Both Mrs. Targaryen."

By the time you reached Aemond's room, you were so nervous that Aegon placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Aemond is a fucking twat," he started, and you raised your eyebrows at him, "but he is the most stubborn asshole I've ever met. And he loves you. He's not going anywhere."

You gave him a small smile, nodding, and then walked into the room.

* * * * *

He raced to the coffee shop. Helaena was fine, some girl had pushed her to the ground and then thrown herself on top of him, and he was instantly suspicious.

He pulled into the parking lot and raced to his sister, made sure she was indeed okay, and then Helaena pointed at a girl. He looked at her, going through all the mafia princesses and female associates he knew of. The girl turned around and began walking away.

He couldn't allow that.

When he reached her, he realized she wasn't looking at him. She wouldn't look at his face, and something inside him loosened. If she could have flown away from him, he was willing to bet that she would have.

This wasn't how the Houses played. If she'd been a plant, she would have shoved her tits in his face, trying to ingratiate herself to him. Still, he wanted to know more.

He went home and ran a full profile on her, found a girl who liked to smile and travel, and who kept to herself. He found someone who had created a life away from some dreary circumstances. He found absolutely no connection to any of the Houses.

He would tighten security, check his information threads for the source of the attempt on Helaena.

And he would find out more about his sister's savior.

* * * * *

He looked so pale.

You knew the way his porcelain skin looked in the light and in the shadows, but this was different. There was a grayish tint to his lips and purple under his eyes. He was covered up to the chest with a blanket , the surgical site neatly bandaged, an IV going into his arm.

There was a slight frown on his brow, but otherwise his face was serene.

"Come back to me," you whispered, taking his hand in yours. "Come back to me, Aemond."

Helaena stood in the doorway and you beckoned her in.

"Sweet brother," she said, kissing his forehead. "I think Cregan is going to propose soon, so you need to wake up. You need to be at my wedding. You need to visit me in Winterf-" she started crying softly, and you reached over with your free hand, rubbing the back of hers.

When Aegon walked in, he stood at the foot of the hospital bed, staring at his brother. "Mother should be landing soon." He walked over to Helaena and put his arm around her shoulders, and she turned, crying in his arms. ""He'll wake up soon, Hel. He'll be back to being the annoying asshole we all know and love."

* * * * *

He was so tired.

He'd spent a lifetime defying the odds. When he was born premature, half the size and weight that Aegon had been at birth. When he lost his eye, and his mother slept in the hospital the whole time he was there. When he had taken over the family's security and shoved his report in his father's face, showing him the attempts he had stopped.

Always fighting, always struggling, it was exhausting.

Helaena had been attacked under his watch. No one knew how much it gutted him. How many nights he had stayed up, the guilt eating him alive.

And then he'd met her.

He'd run after her at the wedding, he'd broken into her home because he couldn't tolerate her thinking badly of him. He'd kissed her and realized he was close to taking her against the wall and that she would let him.

And then he'd finally had her, every inch of her, made her come with his mouth, his hands, his cock, felt her body convulsing against him as she cried out in pleasure. The taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her skin.

Her eyes as she looked up at him as she took him in her mouth, her lips parted in a soft smile, one she bestowed only on him. Her fingertips on his scalp, soothing and comforting.

And he was so proud of her. She'd taken everything in her stride, her head high as she married him, earning praise from his mother after her first charity event, her bravery when Bolton found her.

Telling him she loved him, when she knew what he was. Expecting nothing from him.

He'd met his match in her. The match he'd never found, certainly not in the many daughters of other Houses that Viserys had shoved in his face.

He could hear her voice, the gentle way she spoke his name.

Come back to me.

He wondered at her words. He would never leave her. Why would she want him to come back?

Come back to me, Aemond.

He heard Helaena crying. Why was his sweet sister crying? He'd slit Cregan's throat if he'd done anything to make her cry.

He heard Aegon calling him an asshole. Nothing new about that. But his voice sounded different.

He was so very tired.

* * * * *

You heard the staccato of heels and knew Alicent had arrived. She reached the hospital room and her shoulders sagged when she saw her son in the bed.

She threw her purse onto a chair and walked around to hug you. "They said he's stable."

"He is. He is healthy and he will come out of this." You couldn't think anything else. You wouldn't. "I will go get some coffee," you added, letting her have some time with her son.

Outside, Helaena was on the phone and Aegon was talking to Selwyn Tarth. "We appreciate this."

"As soon as he's able to be moved, you're welcome to take him back home or we are more than capable to continue treatment here."

You headed to a table that had been set up with various beverages and snacks.

"May I prepare something for you, madam?"

You hadn't even noticed the girl standing next to the table. You supposed that was the point with people who served these families. "I'm just getting a couple of coffees."

"Please allow me."

You felt your phone buzzing and realized there were a dozen messages, from Daeron, Otto Hightower, Cregan Stark, and even Cersei Lannister. Various sentiments of comfort and encouragement, which you guessed Cersei had her assistant type for her.

"That looks good, can I have one, too, and a chamomile tea for Helaena?"

"Of course, sir."

You turned to Aegon. "How are you?"

"We have Borros."

You froze, aware that it had been Borros Baratheon who had shot Aemond, but you'd forgotten all about him with the rush to see Aemond.

Aegon smiled. "We'll have a little chat with him later. You're welcome to join us, if you wish."

"Yes."

The word had left your mouth before you realized it.

He patted you twice on the back and headed back to Aemond's room.

* * * * *

His mother was crying. He'd seen her cry a few times in his life, like when he'd lost his eye and his father had done nothing about it. It had been tears of rage then.

He remembered the thud of his body hitting the pavement, a sharp pain in his chest, a red bloom growing on Floris Baratheon's chest. Floris. Was he supposed to marry her? Someone had wanted him to marry Floris. He'd said no. He was already married.

He had married his girl. To protect her, he'd said, but he'd known then that it was a lie. And when she looked at him, he knew that she knew as well.

And still she'd married him.

And told him she loved him.

He heard Aegon's voice. Then anger in his mother's voice.

And then she was there. His wife. His wife, who didn't back down.

Come back to me, Aemond.

She had such a sweet voice. He loved hearing it.

Come back to me.

* * * * *

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[ex-textura]

Hi hello! Any fun facts you would like to share about your characters? (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Eli~!

[i'm sorry this has taken me so long i've been picking away at this since you sent it 😶 apologies for the verbosity, but you got me started and i couldn't stop lmao]

I have SO MANY facts I want to share about my characters 👀 are they fun? ehhhhh. They sure are facts.

The big scar on Auric's face is from his sister's ex. He was jealous and abusive and the one time he flew into a rage in Auric's presence, he stepped in and took the hits so she could run. He almost died then. When he woke up his head was in her lap, he was surrounded by blood, and the abusive ex was dead.

He and Gale settled down after the events of the game, got married, and opened a tavern outside of Waterdeep with his sister and her love, Halsin. They have a teleportation circle in the basement connected to Gale's tower and they basically treat it like a guest house. They've also set up a place for Astarion in the basement so he can stay there whenever he's handy. He still doesn't really like Astarion, but his sister pleaded and he couldn't say no.

Ciaran collected every poetry book, love letter, and diary he could find once he started to get feelings for Gale. He also bothered everyone in the party constantly(Gale included) about what love is, how do you know that's what you're feeling, what do you do about it? He had no frame of reference for love so the whole thing was completely foreign to him. He was like an alien trying to learn human customs. He thought he was being sneaky.

Now that he's no longer trying to die all the time, he's taken up painting and gotten pretty damn good at it, too.

Jinx is 43 years old. Technically.

His skin used to be more red, but a wild magic surge turned him blue and the colour never totally faded.

He's demisexual

Fully incapable of picking up when he's being flirted with. He doesn't think he's handsome, or ugly. He's just Jinx.

He'll try literally anything once, so he let Astarion bite him, and then let him drain him because he'd never been bitten by a vampire before, and never died before. He turned him down for sex though because "I've already had gay sex before :) thanks though!" Astarion is still reeling from that one.

Amaris is one half of a splintered soul. They grew up with their other half as their best friend and had no idea.

The illithid abduction went funky and rather than just scooping them up into the nautiloid, it shunted them into an entirely different, mirrored reality. It wasn't until before the push on moonrise that they learned the truth.

Their best friend and other half had a massive crush on the infamous Gale of Waterdeep that they used to give her hell about all the time. Until they met him, and fell for him too.

Luckily, due to alternate universe fuckery, they each got a Gale and everyone is happy.

Naught is something of an urban legend to people who travel the roads outside Baldur's Gate. He hunted highwaymen with the help of his birds Quothe and Madge. Known only as The Raven on account of the only warning of their presence being a ruffle of feathers and the cry of ravens before the arrows would start flying.

He took payment for his heroism in money, food, or sex. Whatever was on offer.

Before they hit Baldur's Gate and rented out the Elfsong they hadn't slept in a bed in over 10 years.

Their boyfriend was teaching him to read before the fire that killed him and sent Naught on the run. As such, the lad still can't fucking read.

Apparently their type is nerds who are older than him.

Jack married his ex-wife when he was 18.

Has two kids - a son and a daughter - and a grandchild on the way.

His job in the city was general labour. Lifting, fixing, building, cleaning. Anything that paid.

His ex-wife, and therefore his kids, are dwarves. He's 6'5. There's a bit of a height difference there.

He plays the drums.

Ilztaufein is a name he gave himself after escaping the fall of Ched Nasad.

He'd only been training as a wizard for about 10 years when he left. Still though, he thinks he's hot shit and won't hear otherwise.

The only wizard he thinks is better than himself is Gale. Elminster is a nobody in his eyes.

He's 5'4!

For all his big talk he's kind of terrified of women and will automatically obey any order given to him by any of the women in the party. Except for Shadowheart..who he killed......And Mystra... who he's got plans for.

He's been researching the gods after hearing Mystra's order for Gale's sacrifice. He wants to usurp her.

Most of his work on the surface has been in and around Waterdeep, and he's been to Blackstaff Academy a number of times in that time, in disguise, trading information.

He doesn't understand how humans age.

He's never seen a cat in person until they entered Last Light. He's obsessed with them (they're regal, vicious, fancy little bitches. Just like him). The first time he sees one with fur he's going to lose his damn mind.

He's never been with a human before. It's only been drow and the occasional surface elf. Gale's body hair is magical to him and he's not at all subtle about it.

He's 6'2.

Muse more or less adopted Flair - his partner in crime - when they were still teenagers. He saw this homeless kid trying to flirt with him after one of his shows and, like one might with a pet, decided this one was his and took her in. He taught her everything he knew about flirting, manipulation, and getting away with it.

Astarion clocked them both as thieves right away when they met Gale and immediately started trying to use thieves cant to communicate to each other that he was the perfect mark, and whose turn it was to do the flirting.

They caught on that Astarion was on to them later, so Muse was tasked with distracting him, lest Astarion rat them out or, worse, take their mark out from under their noses.

Absolutely devastated when Astarion started using the same tactics on him that he'd used on his targets and that shit actually worked.

He's really bad at the whole...feeling your real genuine emotions...thing. He's been writing songs about Astarion trying to sort out his feelings, rather than..yknow. talking to anyone. at all. ever.

He got really mad at Flair when she started giving Gale expensive items so he wouldn't explode. He voted to send the wizard to the underdark cause he wasn't worth the trouble.

He smells like patchouli and vanilla.

#i'm sorry i got so wordy? #especially at the end? #these aren't fun facts anymore i'm just infodumping #asks #my ocs #oc: auric #ciaran finch #oc: amaris #oc: jinx #oc: naught #oc: jack torada #oc: ilztaufein #oc: muse #oh god i have so many #thank you for the ask I had so much fun rambling!!

[blueicequeen19]

pleaseee do more stepbrother!jj, I just loveeee your smuts 😩😩😩😩 they are amazing!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Enjoy! 💕💕💕 thank you for the love!

Step Sis Dessert 🧁 Pt. 4

I wake up sweaty and sticky and in a bed that's not mine. I groan as a soreness like I've never experienced settles in deep between my legs. He really did fuck me stupid. I don't even remember getting to his bed. I try to sit up when I realize there's a weight practically on top of me. I turn and my cheek colliders with his forehead, his arm and leg thrown over my naked body. I throw his arm off and kick at him and he groans, rolling over and taking the blanket with him. I take a quick glance at his firm ass before slowly sitting up on the edge of the bed. Muscles I didn't even know I had hurt.

"Fuck." I groan, grimacing over how sticky I feel. I try to run a hand through my hair but it catches like a damn rats nest. "I need a shower." I mutter, slowly getting to my feet. Where were my clothes?

"We already took a shower." JJ mumbles with his face buried in a pillow.

"Another one then." I snap. "Where are my clothes? Is this cum in my hair?" I'm answered with silence so I smack his bare ass. JJ yelps then rolls over, pinning me with a murderous look.

"I'm tired." He growls, a snarl on his lips. Lips that feasted on me for hours last night. Yesterday? Fuck, how much time had passed?

"And I'm naked. Where are my clothes?" I demand again and he rolls his eyes before jumping up and disappearing through a door in his room where I hear a shower turn on. I quickly follow, the room already filling with steam.

"Helllllllooooooo? I need my clothes, Maybank. I don't have time for—." I'm yanked into the shower and I squeal as I'm plastered against his body. "You are infuriating." I growl, leaning my head into the spray.

"And hard again." His hardening cock is rubbed against my stomach and I bite back a moan.

"No, I gave you sex now give me information. Where is my mother?" I demand, snatching up a bottle of cheap guy shampoo and working a large amount into my nasty hair. His arms stay around my waist as I wash my hair. His fingers begin to tweak my nipples and I bite back the moan that wants to slip out. I quickly rinse my hair and shove his hands away. JJ sighs, almost like a defeated toddler.

"My dad usually crashes at Barry's after a bender. I'm sure that's where she is."

"You're sure? You mean you don't know?" Red hot rage boils over and I shove him away from me. JJ spins me around, slamming my chest into the wall, then he's inside me. He buries his face in my neck as he groans with the tight fit. The hunger in my belly is quickly extinguishing the anger that just surged through me. He's distracting me.

"One more for the road." JJ bites down on my shoulder as he fucks me and I cry out. I don't know how I'm going to be able to hide all the bruises from him.

It's quick and hard, his fist in my hair holds my face against the wall as he owns me. As much as I hate him, I love the way he fucks me. It's like all my problems evaporate for awhile and all I get to feel is the overwhelming pleasure. And the feeling of actually being wanted by someone. Even if it is just sex.

Skin slaps skin even harder as my toes curl, biting my lips to stifle my cries as I cum.

"Don't hold back. I want to hear your screams." JJ grunts, his pace wavering as he nears his edge.

"Shouldn't have pissed me off." I snap and I feel the moment he releases, pumping me full until it starts to drip between my thighs. We take a few moments to catch our breath then I quickly rinse the cum off my thighs.

I jump from the shower, stealing the only towel, and quickly go in search of my clothes before he tries to distract me again with his dick.

My panties and shirt are ripped so I pull on my shorts and one of his shirts that smells clean and I almost make it out the door when an arm wraps around my waist. He buries his face in my neck, pinning me between him and the wall.

"You smell like me, little sister." JJ groans into my hair, his boxer covered erection pressed between my cheeks.

"Let go of me, asshole."

"I'd tell you not to go alone but I got what I wanted so I really don't care."

"Such a gentlemen."

"Then again, I'll never hear the end of it if I let you go alone."

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj obx #jj maybank fluff #smutwarning #jj maybank x you #obx2 #rudy pankow #wattpad #tw unprotected sex #tw dark content #dark!jj maybank #outer banks smut #jj maybank #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #tw noncon #tw dubcon #outer banks

[inchidentally]

(screencapped to stay out of the tags)

I'm going to be bundling my other tricky asks as always in one post under a cut but this one as actually a learning curve for me as someone who doesn't really follow Max stuff.

I genuinely hadn't realized just how much time Lando had spent with Max privately and non-F1 weekend related. I'm not esp a Max fan which would explain me missing a lot but I did know they had a pretty solid friendship that dated more closely to his friendship with George and Alex - but damn that's way more time spent with Max than any other driver this season!

what's funny too is that Max is actually super happy to be physically affectionate in a flirty way with other guys similar to how Lando is. Carlos is only like that with certain guys, namely Charles and guys his own age that he deems as "pretty". but as someone who pulled shippy shit from any car|ando interaction I can honestly say that the "ooh they touched in a sexy way!" stuff was just how Lando is with guys. Carlos firmly has Lando in the little brother/friend space and literally says he thinks Lando is "cute" and that it's weird when people ask them to kiss. and yes, they have dinner sometimes and travel on the same plane sometimes to the next race - but just this season Lando did that with Daniel and Oscar and Max as well.

so surely Max including Lando in all this personal life stuff and spending time together online and in Monaco during the winter break is a HUGE threat to car|ando? I genuinely can't and don't want to try and understand the larry mentality of RPF but if I had to guess then it's something as wild as them considering Max as already part of a major RPF ship (|estappen or maxtie|) that's supposedly ALSO taking place under cover of all these "fake" girlfriends? man I wish I could remove the terms "beard" and "escort" from these people's vocabulary.

I've also got an ask that apparently charlos causes rage for both |estappen and car|ando bc they have an agenda that Charles and Carlos hate each other but then keep getting infuriated when Charles mounts Carlos or Carlos won't stop touching Charles' thighs or they try to kiss for the millionth time. akgfsakfgaf how exhausting must it be keeping these theories going I caaaan't

but returning to your ask yea fact is that Lando is way closer and more of a friend outside F1 with Max than Carlos. they meet up probably the same amount during the drivers parades as car|ando and sometimes even get handsy. but I guess somehow that's different ?? even when Lando has teased that RB would be his only temptation away from McLaren and Christian Horner wants to en plein air fuck Lando ???

from what I can tell, Daniel was never considered a threat to car|ando which continues to be bizarre bc purely objectively again, I would say he's more of a friend outside F1 to Lando than Carlos. not by a whole lot but Daniel and Lando share road trips and private flights and Lando fits into Daniel's friend group really well. I guess maybe since Daniel's just widely loved in fandom in general there was less motive to try and tear down his relationship with Lando?

that's true, I also seem to recall starting to see this anti-landoscar BS starting around Japan/Oscar's contract extension. I suppose if I were trying to look at it through their angle then the Japan and Qatar double McLaren podiums coming right after Singapore - including Oscar's extension - would be seen as some kind of "insult" ? I guess Oscar went from being cute and non-threatening to suddenly cockblocking the Carlos back to McLaren pipe dream (that Carlos would literally only do as a fifth or sixth option and only if Ferrari gave him the boot lol). especially since Lando insisted on being crazy happy about the double podiums instead of I guess wistfully thinking of how much he wishes he could play second fiddle to Carlos getting the only non-RB win of the season instead of trying to idk help his team and himself in the standings.

then there was the crazy mood swing when Lando and Carlos went to dinner after Mexico and flew to Brazil together (with Rebecca) - to the rage when it turned out that Lando hanging out in Brazil for a day or two after the race wasn't car|ando bc Lando went to Cali almost immediately for sponsors meetings while Carlos and Rebecca both posted pics and video of their private holiday together that went right up until the day before the Vegas race. I definitely saw the uptick in car|ando agit prop after that whole shebang bc then Carlos wanted Rebecca at the "car|ando cup" and kept checking in on her. the hatred towards her truly took on a whole ugly and dark turn after that.

it is still so damn weird that Oscar/landoscar is the target that it is for them though. I have another ask where in some F1 group Christmas art the artist depicts Lando interacting with Carlos and not Oscar and ??? it's a drawing??? and I'm assuming they don't rate Lily's existence as security for car|ando since apparently any woman can be conveniently written off as a fake gf. but Oscar doesn't play gay with Lando and he didn't push for a bromance and generally keeps himself to himself unless Lando wants him around! he's a Lando fanboy but he's not even hardcore pushing content of him and Lando on his sm! the poor guy is literally just standing there catching strays bc of a mainstream bromance that has nothing to do with him

I'm sorry anon this went so wide of what you were saying but genuinely I used to spend so much of my time on car|ando accounts and it's slowly turning into a larry "they are looking to each other" edit type fandom ;__;

but fr why does Oscar get put in the "we hate the real life girlfriends" category ?????? I genuinely laugh bc it's so insane why isn't he like Max or Daniel why is he That Fake Bitch Standing In Our Ship's Way and they aren't is it bc he's prettier and serves natural cunt afglajfgalgfslafg

#inchreplies #wank adjacent #no but thank you anon I wouldn't have known the parts about max otherwise and that's rly sweet

[maybebecomingms]

take time to contemplate who you are and where you want to go

January 15th, 2024

Last week I was having a really, REALLY bad night. I holed up in my partner's room in the dark, curled up on his bed in the fetal position, popped in some earbuds, and played Don't You Fake It by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

This album is my go-to when I feel like a brooding teenager. It came out in 2006, so I guess it counts - I was 19 - even if it was after high school. I reserve it for the very lowest depths of despair.

I wasn't even listening to it in 2006, though. My earliest memories of Red Jumpsuit Apparatus-fueled angst are from 2015 when I was on a horrible vacation with my ex's family in the wilderness of Ontario. I'm not fit for sitting in a boat fishing and drinking beer for 12 hours at a time without sunscreen, so everyone gave up on me fairly quickly and just left me behind each day. I took to trail running with Don't You Fake It in my ears to pass the time.

"Waiting" might be my favorite track, because it's so relatable.

Void I can't fill The doctor tells me to relax and stand still Prescribes me a new pill to quell my anger Wish I could make her pull herself up off the floor

I spent so many years feeling both like the person who needed pills to quell my anger AND the person who needed to get up off the floor. Just stuck.

It came on a streaming playlist a few years later one cold, dark morning while I drove my ex and myself to work. We carpooled to work for over 9 years, but I was almost never the one driving. He'd fallen asleep, which he always did as a passenger. Aside from long road trips, I've always hated that so much, too. It feels so lonely and disrespectful.

Waiting for this life to change seems like it's taking me forever

I turned it up and sang along, and it felt like a prayer I was afraid to say out loud or even think to myself.

Before that bad night last week, I'd had a pretty good therapy session where I was tasked with writing about what I wish I'd known back then, or what I would want younger women to know based on what I've been through.

And that's easy.

We are NOT meant for a life where we give and give and give endlessly to someone who does nothing but take from us. Losing yourself for someone else's benefit is never the answer.

Do NOT seethe with hidden rage. Do NOT get stuck on the floor.

Get up and DEMAND MORE. Take up space. Allow yourself to be messy and inconvenient and make mistakes. BECAUSE YOU FUCKING DESERVE ALL OF THAT AND MORE!

Stop giving all of yourself to someone and settling for crumbs in return, and please don't ever do it again.

#divorce #mental health recovery #therapy #things i wish i knew #the red jumpsuit apparatus #waiting #don't you fake it

[marcspectorstannie]

❖taste of love-rage❖ (Jake Lockley x reader)

Warnings: descriptive violence, cursing in Spanish, slightly mention of harassment

Summary: Jake almost kills someone in front of you but realizes he was beginning to scare you

A/n: this gif reminds me of Gomez Addams for some reason, also, the summary doesn't do the rest justice I had writers block ; also in sorry there's no 'keep reading' cut, for some reason I can't place it on my phone and I really need to drop this fic :((

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You knew Jake would do anything for you, let alone be your personal bodyguard. Going out was usually always a hassle due to his constant glares and death threats, but you appreciated his gestures and loved him anyway.

One day though, you had to go to your job to pick up some papers on your day off. Jake happily -well,his version of happy- accompanied you. He wasn't gonna let you go alone. What if something happened to you and he wasn't there to help you? He couldn't lose the only person who loved him for who he truly is. On your way to where you worked, Jake observed the areas around it. "These roads look weird,Princesa...are you sure this is the right way?" He noticed the empty lots and broken down houses up and down the block, the 1-2 people sitting outside drinking, the so called 'creeps' walking down the street with their hoods up. You sighed and glanced at him still staring out the windows. "Yes, this is the right way, I drive here almost everyday." You had already noticed the ups and downs of the streets when you first started working there. There was only one guy that would come in to see you, of course you wouldn't tell Jake that tho, he could possibly get shot in the knee for even speaking to you.

You finally reached your job as Jake quickly got out and opened the car door for you, holding his hand out. You smiled at his gesture and grabbed his hand.Quickly going through the front doors, you told Jake to stay by the door since he wasn't allowed near the back. He rolled his eyes and leaned against a couple of crates near the closed register. "Don't be long, I don't like this place.. " he called to you as you gave a quick thumbs up and went to grab your papers. Right, now where did they put them....ah, there they are- "Hey y/n....didn't expect to see you here today. Isn't this your day off? " You turned to the source of the voice and saw your coworker against the door, his shirt slightly untucked. You felt your body tense as your tried to avoid eye contact with him. This particular coworker always bothered you since your first day. The flirty comments and the perverted jokes specified towards you. He moved closer to you, making a space near the door for you escape.

"Yeah, but I had to come pick up these papers. Duty calls, am I right? " you a chucked awkwardly to diffuse the tension. Quickly exiting the room, you noticed him following you in the corner of your eye. You scanned the area for Jake and saw him staring at you, clearly already noticing the guy behind you. "So, you still single, or you finally let somebody, or multiple people, hit? Cuz yknow I've always had a thing for you...." He grabbed your waist, turning your body to face him. Your heart raced as you tried to stay calm. "Cmon y/n, let's hang out a bit.. It's only me and you here" You heard the clopping of hard bottom shoes hitting the floor.Jake quickly pushed the guy off of you and pushed you out the way of any other harm he was about to cause. "Hey, what the fuck, man? " the guy stumbled backwards, almost into a wall. "Hands off, capullo,don't make me the bad guy today." He had backed the guy up into a wall. The guy scoffed and looked back at you. "And what are you gonna do? " It seemed like all emotion but pure rage drained from his eyes. He turned the guy around, grabbed the back of his head, and repeatedly banged his head against the wall. You covered your mouth in shock. You'd seen Jake fight before but never so up close. Bits of blood started to dribble from his nose and mouth onto the wall, which now had a large dent in it. "You wanna say sorry yet? Hijo de perra." He lifted his head and turned it to you. Silence. "No? Alright then" He kicked his legs inwards, making them bend at a weird angel. He twisted his arms backwards and pulled them. " Te voy a romper la cara con las manos, now apologize to this lovely lady." The guy could hardly speak probably due to the blunt force trauma to his head.Jake wouldn't let him rest. He pulled out his gun and stuck it in the back of his head. "Now this is your last chance, pendejo, you speak or I blow this bullet in the back of your head."

"Jake... Stop." You croaked out a small plead. You didn't want to see him blow someone's brains out just because they made you uncomfortable. " Princesa,he hurt you. I can't have anyone hurt my girl,you know that." He quickly noticed the fear in your eyes as he looked at you. He tried to compose himself without laying one last punch on him. Putting his gun back in his pocket, he dropped the guy on the floor and grabbed your hand. "Get your papers, let's go" you grabbed what you came for and followed behind him. You head him faintly muttering Spanish curse words under his breath. He helped you into the passenger seat and got himself into the drivers side. "Jake, I'm ok, really." You sighed as he started the car with your keys. "He shouldn't have done that, pequeña perra.I should have stopped him sooner. I could've killed him right then and there." You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "And I'm glad you didn't. You don't need another death on your conscious, let alone over something like this." He lightly kissed your hand. "Are you sure you're safe,princesa? Do you need anything?" You shook your head and smiled at him.

"No I'm ok, now let's go home."

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

[thechangeling]

Friend make sense of me

HAPPY AUTISTIC ACCEPTANCE MONTH!!

It's been a long time coming,I've been working on this for two months, but I wanted to post this Alyssa and Jaime fic to mark the beginning of Autistic Acceptance month.

Cw: Discussions of ableism, masking, autistic trauma and cptsd.

The title of this fic is from A Hole in the Earth by Daughter. I highly reccomend listening to it while you read this. (Unless music distracts you from reading)

"Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief."

-Anne Carson

Alyssa was late.

As she often was. She wasn't exactly great at keeping track of the time. Sometimes it was like she would blink and twenty minutes had gone by. Probably an ADHD thing.

Still she wasn't in a huge rush to reach the LA institute, she knew Ty would be ok with her being late for dinner. It gave him more time to spend with his precious boyfriend.

Not that she was bitter or anything. Honestly Kit mostly seemed decent and they both seemed really happy together. Alyssa just couldn't help but wonder when it was all gonna go to shit.

Her therapist would probably tell her that was her cptsd talking making her cynical about human nature and people's intentions. Alyssa just called it being realistic.

She had been reluctant to go to therapy at first. Her parents had instilled a fear of it in her. Plus she really didn't want to go spill her problems to some middle aged white lady. Or any allistic person actually. But luckily she had actually found an autistic asian women in her thirties.

And Alyssa was grateful for her every day but sometimes it was uncomfortable being scrutinized like this when she had no clue what she was doing or who she was trying to become.

She wanted to be good. That she knew. She didn't want to be a beacon of pain and rage for the rest of her life. Or at least until she ended it. She wanted to be a better person. The kind of person her family could be proud of. The kind of person Ty could be proud of.

Her therapist would say that it was unhealthy for Alyssa to attach so much of her wellbeing and personhood to another person. And somewhere deep down Alyssa knew she was right.

But she couldn't help it, in a world where nothing was certain and nothing was infinite, nothing's in control nothing makes sense there's just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything, where she had no idea what she wanted to do or be. When she had no idea who she was she or if she was even real, she knew he was.

Ty was solid and unmovable. He was her tether.

Alyssa continued clomping along the side of the road in her white leather high heeled boots. Magnus had portaled her to the middle of the pier instead of the institute because there was an outdoor concert she wanted to see before meeting up with Ty.

Ali loved a good outdoor concert. The fresh cool night air combined with all the space to dance was heaven. No crowded claustrophobic stadium where she could practically feel the walls closing in on her. She let the noise fill her up and wash through her body, sparking her nerves and making her come alive again.

Something Ty would never understand. He hated noise and hated concerts. It kinda broke her heart.

She finally reached the entrance of the institute, twenty minutes later then she said she would be.  Fucking fantastic.

She was putting her phone away when she saw him. There was a boy sitting out on the institutes steps. Brooding, it looked like. Brooding and drinking from a bottle of whiskey.

Ok well now Alyssa was intrigued. He was also pretty hot. He had brown slightly wavy hair, deep brown eyes and light brown skin. Also a strong jawline, and full lips that were set in a dead line.

Brooding or having some kind of internal crisis.

Whatever. Alyssa could work with that.

He hadn't noticed her as she was walking up to the porch somehow, despite the fact she was literally wearing what Ty had disdainfully called the noisiest shoes imaginable, (I like to go clip clomp jingle jangle Ty! It makes my brain happy.)

The boy was probably just ignoring her which pissed Alyssa off more then she would have liked.

"Hey shadowhunter!"she called out to him, noticing the black marks on his arms. "You're in my way."

The boy slowly looked up at her, his expression shifting from melancholy to a slight smirk. He licked his lips. "Let me guess," he slurred his words slightly, speaking with a Latin American sounding accent. "Long dark hair, murderous scowl, you must be Alyssa Reyes."

He smiled after he said her name in a way that made her feel weirdly exposed. It wasn't a friendly smile by any means but it also wasn't mocking or malicious. Alyssa felt like she was under a microscope. It wasn't as though she didn't like attention or being noticed. Her ego certainly preened and puffed up at the idea of him already knowing who she was.

But any social interaction with a new person was bound to make her feel anxious and this strange boy had a way of making her feel vulnerable, which she hated.

But she wasn't someone who easily allowed herself to be deterred. Alyssa matched his smile and channeled her best Faith Lehane persona. "Oh would you look at that, I'm famous!  And you are? She asked with fake casualness. Alyssa stared directly into his eyes, ignoring the pain.

His gaze never left hers. "Jaime Roccio Rosales. I'm sure you have heard of me."

Alyssa shrugged. "I haven't," she lied smoothly. She had heard of Diego Rosales' younger troublesome brother from Ty. Apparently he was friends with Dru and it was a friendship most of their siblings didn't trust because he was older. But Ty didn't really care either way, as long as Jaime didn't hurt her.

Alyssa wasn't even really sure why she lied about knowing who Jaime was. Sometimes she shifted into bitch mode when she got scared.

Jaime didn't look offended though. He just chuckled. "Well now you have," he said matter of factly, taking another long drink from the bottle of whiskey.

Alyssa bit her lip, debating for a moment before she nodded her head towards the bottle. "You got enough enough to share?"

Jaime smirked at her again. "I thought you needed to get inside?

Oh she hated that. That knowing look.

Alyssa faked nonchalance. "Ty will understand if I'm a little late." She conveniently neglected to mention that she was already more than a little late. But there was something weirdly interesting about the boy in front of her.

She sat down beside him and grabbed the bottle taking a long gulp. The whiskey burned at her throat like she had just swallowed bleach. Alyssa grimaced and rubbed her shoulder against her cheek, dragging it across. It was one of her favorite stims from childhood. She was putting in an effort to unmask more now.

Jaime gave her a look, but it wasn't judgemental or disgusted. Just curious.

Alyssa ignored him. " Ugh! Why do you hate yourself?" She asked only half jokingly, shoving the bottle back towards him.

Jaime gave a humourless chuckle. "How much time do you have?"

Fucking none was the truth. She had negative time as per usual. Ty was going to kill her.

"I'm genuinely curious," she replied honestly. She had actually started flicking her fingers in excitement. If there was one thing she loved was hearing about people who were more fucked up then she was. It was strangely comforting.

Jaime shook his head. "You first. Why do you do that?" He asked, pointing at her hands.

Alyssa froze on instinct. Waves of panic shot through her. In the back of her mind she was already plotting her escape.

She took a breath. "It's just something I do when I'm nervous or excited. Or upset." She paused and then shrugged. "Basically any any emotion I guess. It's called stimming." Alyssa snuck a peak at Jaime's face. There was nothing that she could read. He wasn't giving her anything.

She shifted her position on the steps, pulling her legs to her chest. "You know how Ty flaps his hands sometimes? Or rocks back and forth? It's basically the same thing. It's because we're both autistic."

Jaime finally reacted. He raised an eyebrow at her.  "But..you," he said slowly. "You're not like Ty?

Alyssa scoffed and shook her head. "No one's like anyone, Rosales. That's how human nature works.

Jaime chuckled. "Fair enough, but.." he trailed off.

Alyssa sighed. She knew what he was referring to. She didn't particularly want to be having this conversation. However there was something nagging at the bottom of her chest to spill the thoughts weighing on her. Just to have someone listen.

Wow she really needed more therapy.

"The truth is when I was a kid, I was a lot more like Ty. Or at least I think I was," she paused. "A lot of my childhood is just blanks now. I only remember little peices and it's usually the bad stuff." Alyssa pulled on her braid and stuck her fingers in the loops. "But a long time ago I think I was happy. I think I was free. But that didn't last."

She dropped her braid and looked back at Jaime. His expression remained relatively passive, although Ali swore she could read a touch of melancholy in his features.

"Anyways that's enough about me. How about you?" Alyssa reached for the bottle again even though she knew it would make her gag. "You said you would tell me why you hate yourself." She took a swig.

Jaime blew air out of his nose half-heartedly. "You say that you can't remember your childhood? I would do anything to forget mine."

Embarrassingly enough, Alyssa perked up. "Well now I'm intrigued!"

But Jaime just shook his head and swiped the bottle from her.  She tried not to look to disappointed. Alyssa knew it was rude to try and pry thing out of people that they weren't ready to talk about. She couldn't expect everyone to just trauma dump like her. But she didn't want to monopolize the conversation.

"Did you ever, like did you ever have dreams of being something other than a shadowhunter?" Alyssa asked.

Jaime smirked. "Actually yes. When I was a child I wanted to be a faerie."

Alyssa laughed out loud. Whatever she thought he was going to say it wasn't that.

Jaime shook his head. "It's so stupid."

She rained herself in. "No, no it's not! It's adorable."

Jaime shrugged. "I was always obsessed with the fae as a child, same as Cristina. Most likely because of our family's connection to them. However unlike Cristina I was very persistent. I read everything I could find, devouring those books front to back. It was one of the only things that made me truly happy."

Alyssa couldn't help but smile at the ground. She clutched at her knees. "That sounds like me with dance. The first time I saw The Ballet I was obsessed. I begged my mother to enroll me. First it was ballet, and then contemporary and then jazz.." she drifted off. She could feel the old memories coming back to her.

"It was my sanctuary," Ali bit her lip. "Like as long as I was," she rubbed her fingers together, "touching the bar or doing pirouettes in front of the mirror then nothing could hurt me." She fought the urge to sink her fingernails into her palm and instead tapped her fingers against her thigh.

"But I was wrong. I quit when I was 16 and I've been too afraid to dance since."

Jaime frowned. "Why did you quit?"

Alyssa sighed deeply, a sound that may have more closely resembled a groan. "Because I was sick of pretending to be normal and focusing on the art at the same time? Because I was sick of playing by other people's rules? Because I was sick of being mocked and ridiculed by my so-called peers." She could feel tears of frustration coming to the surface.

"Because I had spent basically my whole life stripping away peices of myself and rearranging them to please other people, Alyssa admitted. "They call it masking. Such a simple word that means so much pain."

"Because how could I call myself a dancer or an artist when everything about me was fake right down to the root of my soul? And what I didn't destroy, everyone else was sure to take care of for me. Whether it was my parents or my sister or my teachers." She realized she had started to raise her voice and looked at Jaime sheepishly.

He shook his head. "No don't worry. I think you needed that."

Alyssa scoffed. "Still. I'm really only supposed to have outbursts like that in therapy."

Jaime raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Yeah it's this whole new thing I'm trying. To try and heal myself. To try and see if I can still save a peice of that little girl who wanted to be a ballerina. That little girl who believed in goodness and the beauty of this world." She managed a small smile. "I think I owe her that much."

Jaime looked strangely pained. "And what if she can't be saved? What if you're just stuck this way?"

Alyssa shrugged. "I don't know. I just know I have to try."

They were both silent for a moment as they sat together staring out into the night sky. Alyssa continued to tap as she let her mind wander.

Then she heard a soft sound from beside her. She peered over to Jaime and noticed fondly that he was tapping along with her.

He seemed to notice her staring and blushed sheepishly.

"I haven't done that since I was a child," he murmered in disbelief. "My mother used to put her hands over mine to stop them from moving."

Alyssa let out a dry laugh. "Same. Except when I used to flap my mother would literally pin my arms at my sides. Eventually I switched to playing with my hair."

"Flap? Like this?"

Ali could hardly contain her smile as she watched Jaime begin to move his hands more boldly and shake them at his sides.

He was probably autistic and that knowledge brought her immense joy as she always loved to meet more of her neurokin. But Jaime probably wasn't ready to hear it yet.

Jaime must have seen her somber expression because he had stopped stimming and staring pensively again.

"Do you really want to know why I hate myself?" He asked casually.

If Alyssa were anyone else she might have been put off by the uprumpt and dark subject change. But she was pretty used to this way if communicating.

Jaime didn't wait for her response. "Because I am my family's disappointment."

Alyssa blew out a loud gust of air. "Well hey I mean same! Like as if being autistic wasn't enough, I've also got ADHD and cptsd, although granted that one came later. Not to mention being a big fat queer."

"I honestly don't know half of the words you just said," Jaime said with a laugh.

"Well trust me, I'm definitely not my parents' ideal daughter."

Jaime looked down at the nearly empty bottle, he was tracing the lid with his finger. "I was never what my parents wanted either. Especially not compared to my older brother Diego. I even feel guilty for harboring any sort of resentment towards him or my parents. Honoring and being loyal your family is an extremely importent part of my culture."

Alyssa smiled. "Yeah same. I think that's something that pretty much all collectivist cultures have in common. In Filipino culture we have this term, Kapwa which basically means connectedness or a shared inner self. Like essentially you are one connected family unit and what you do effects the whole family, so you should be considerate of that."

Jaime nodded. "Right. And in the beginning I wanted to be. I wanted to be good and make my family proud. But so much of what I did naturally, so much of what I wanted and naturally felt, was not in line with the rest of my family. And at a certain point I started to feel like I was a bad person. As if I was evil or there was something wrong with me because making your family proud shouldn't be this difficult."

Alyssa felt a giant pang in her chest. It was almost as though Jaime was speaking her own words back to her. She could feel the urge to cry creeping up on her like a steady wave, but she fought it.

"Diego was everything I was supposed to be and he still is," Jaime continued. An exemplary shadowhunter, a kind and respectful son. Cristina and I used to call him "Perfect Diego" because it's seemed like there was nothing he couldn't excel at."

Alyssa snorted. Jaime's description of Diego reminded her of her older sister Grace. Grace was everything that Ali wasn't or couldn't be. The perfect student and the perfect daughter with her perfect boyfriend now husband. She had recieved straight A's throughout her entire academic career and was now in medical school training to become a doctor. It was a high paying job that would allow her to repay their parents for all they had done for her as a child.

Alyssa wanted to be able to repay her parents as well for all they had gone through to get to the US, but Ali had never been a good student and in the end had just barely graduated despite all the tutors her parents had hired. She wished she could have been a savant or an autistic person with profitable skills instead of a dancer who refused to dance on other people's terms and a professional drama queen whose talents included getting into fights and then blasting Queen or David Bowie into her ears.

But then she had gotten scratched and now her main concern was on getting her cover story straight. Her parents thought she was studying psychology at a college in Brooklyn. Alyssa had actually gotten in due to her decent grades in English and she had attended for awhile before her pack duties had gotten too demanding.

Lying to her family broke her heart but it wasn't exactly like she could tell them the truth.

Alyssa smirked. "Yeah my older sister is kind of a handful too."

Jaime sighed. "Diego isn't really though. I was the handful. I-" he trailed off. "I betrayed my best friend."

At the mention of Jaime's best friend, Alyssa instantly thought of her own. She had completely lost track of time as she had the tendency to do. And when someone wasn't directly in front of her, after awhile they stopped existing.

Ty.

Ty who was waiting for her. Ty who had his boyfriend to keep him company and he probably hadn't even noticed she was gone.

It was a petty and unfair thought. Ali knew that. But she couldn't help it. That familiar ache that came from sensing abandonment. The worry that Ty didn't really care about her as much as she cared about him.

She shoved those thoughts aside. "It's ok," she told Jaime. "Whatever you did, I forgive you."

Jaime looked stunned. Alyssa could see tears welling up in his eyes. "But you don't even know what I did."

Alyssa took a deep breath. "No, but I know what you were going through. Probably better then anyone else. And I also know that you need someone to forgive you. And I know you won't forgive yourself." She tentatively reached across the porch, slowly reaching for Jaime's fingers.

She gave him time to pull away before she took his hand in hers. He didn't resist.

"So I forgive you."

Jaime inhaled deeply, probably in an effort to stop himself from crying and squeezed her hand back.

The gesture again reminded her of Ty and Alyssa's heart sank. She slowly pulled her hand back.

"Hey listen, this has been great but I really need to get inside. Ty's waiting for me," she said reluctantly.

"Oh! Mierda right of course!" Jaime exclaimed. "I'm sorry about that."

Alyssa shook her head "No it's fine It was my bad. Besides I'm sure Kit's keeping him occupied." She tried not to snarl Kit's name but the look on Jaime's face told her she was unsuccessful.

"Not a fan of the Herondale?" He asked playfully with a return of the smirk.

Alyssa sighed in a way that was probably overly dramatic, but she was nothing if not a drama queen. "He's fine I guess. I just don't trust him with Ty." She had gone back to flicking her fingers, this time in annoyance.

Jaime smirked at her. "I don't think you would trust anyone with Ty. Anyone except you."

She narrowed her gaze. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "People say that you're in love with him. Is that true?"

Alyssa recoiled in disgust. "Who, Kit?"

"No. Ty. Is that true?"

Alyssa was genuinely stunned. She stared blankly at Jaime without making a single expression. There were so many questions running through her mind.

How? What? Why? Huh?

Alyssa blinked rapidly. "How could anyone think that?

Jaime scoffed. "I don't know honestly. Apparently because you're always all over him and your relationship just seems really intense. At least that's what Dru said."

"So what hugging someone a lot and caring deeply for them means your feelings gave to be romantic? That's so stupid!"

"I agree," Jaime said. "It's annoying when people make those kinds of assumptions. People used to assume Cristina and I were dating back home just because we were close."

"It's beyond annoying!" Alyssa snapped. "It's so violating. That people would just assign you romantic feelings like that without a second thought. And it pisses me off because," she paused. "Look I know the friendship between Ty and me is unconventional. But my friendships have always been weird and unconventional because I'm weird and unconventional!"

"The love we have for each other isn't based on traditional rules for what platonic relationships should be. And honestly society's idea of friendship is pretty shit."

Jaime gave her a small smile. "You don't have to argue with me. Believe me I understand. It's frustrating when everyone devalues your friendships and assumes that you want a romantic relationship."

Alyssa grimaced. "Sorry. I guess I'm just kinda sensitive about this stuff. I don't want to date anyone and I don't think I ever will."

Jaime smiled. "Me neither. We can be alone together."

She smiled, feeling strangely moved by his words. In the short time they had known each other they had already bonded. Like how she and Ty had but bonded, but not at the same time.

It was refreshing to be able to talk to someone who understood her need to keep her connection to her family and her culture, as well as her drive to please them but still be allowed to honour herself. Ty's advice usually amounted to something along the lines of "just cut them out of your life."

And Alyssa knew she needed to take care of herself. In the end that was why she was in therapy. But things weren't as simple as Ty made them out to be.

And in some ways she envied him. Envied the way he could just move through this world without a care in the world and just demand things. And he could do it because in their eyes he was respectable. He was brilliant. The top of his class at the scholomance. He clearly deserved their respect.

Not Alyssa though. Never Alyssa.

She sighed and prepared herself to finally haul her ass off this porch. "I need to get through that door," she announced. "He doesn't deserve me bailing on him like this."

Jaime nodded. "Probably not."

Alyssa wasn't sure how to proceed. She always felt awkward during goodbyes.

"Well I guess I'll see you around."

"Wait!" Jaime exclaimed, getting up from his spot. "I'll come with you. Dru's probably worried about me."

They entered the institute by Jaime opening the door for them both which Ali was thankful for. If he wasn't there she would have just had to knock. The hallway looked empty, but she could hear sounds in both the dining room and the upstairs thanks to super hearing.

"I'm actually going to go dump the rest of this before I find Dru." Jaime gestured to the bottle. "I suppose we might see each other later."

"Yeah maybe," Alyssa heard herself say distantly. Her stomach was twisting in knots.

"Hey," Alyssa turned at the sound of Jaime's voice. He smiled at her, a moment of genuine emotion. "It was an honour to meet you Alyssa."

She grinned, feeling some of her old cockiness come back. "Well I should hope so. I'll see you around Jaime."

With a nod, he dissapeared into the kitchen. Leaving Alyssa alone again.

She took a breath and slowly made her way into the dining room to check for Ty.

When she entered the room his eyes immediately found her, and she was heartbroken to see how concerned he looked.

"Ali! Are you ok? I was worried!"

Alyssa meant to tell him that she was fine, that everything was fine and she was sorry for making him wait but instead she just deflated, completely disregarding the other people in the room.

"No. No I'm not ok."

Ty approached her cautiously. "What do you need?"

And hearing that made Alyssa want to scream. He was so good to her. Always. And she could never repay that. What did she even need? More therapy probably. A fucking lobotomy. Or a personality transplant. She wanted to rip herself to pieces and reassemble herself until something clicked. Until she was real and whole. Until she had become who she was meant to be.

"Hold me. Put your arms around me."

And when he wrapped her in his embrace and squeezed so tightly she honestly thought her ribs were about to crack, Alyssa honestly couldn't remember why she'd been so worried that she would lose him.

His breathing was steady against hers as she shook. Alyssa remembered a conversation with her therapist when she had asked her, "how do I move on?"

She had sighed pensively and responded with, "It's a complicated process that takes a lot of time. But the very first thing you need to do is want to move on. I think you've gotten very used to living in your anger because it's safe and familiar for you. And of course anger can be useful, but not when it's trapping you. You have to be willing to let it go."

At the time Alyssa had been furious and thought that she was full of shit. But now as she clung to Ty in this far too brightly lit kitchen, she could see how all her anger, as justified as it may be, was just masking grief.

Grief and shame.

Shame over allowing those things to happen to her. Shame over not being what her parents wanted or expected. Or over being fundamentally broken and incapable of keeping most people happy in her life.

Alyssa was ashamed of herself for all she had lost, because she still felt deep down, that it was her fault.

But it wasn't. None of it was. And if she could accept that and accept that she didn't deserve any of the things that happened to her then maybe, just maybe she could look herself in the mirror one day and say out loud, "I am not a bad person."

I am not a bad person and I deserve to be free.

Maybe someday she would believe it.

The line "nothings in control, nothing makes sense there's just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything" is a Faith Lehane quote from Angel The Series.

A lot of the information about Filipino culture that I used for this fic came from this article here. I reccomend checking it out. It's pretty interesting.

I am actually planning on writing a Ty centric fic for the month as well so keep an eye out for that!

Tagging: @lavender-scented-rat   @littlx-songbxrd   @arangiajoan   @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @tired-vin @phoenix-and-dragon @amchara @wagner-fell @sandersgrey @the-wckd-powers @spooky-drusilla @the-blackdale

#tsc #tda #twp #jaime rosales #alyssa reyes #fae's oc #alyssa is my oc #actually autistic #autistic acceptance month

[aki-mochi]

Levi x Reader: New Life

WARNING: contains language and mentions of prostitution.

This takes place in the Underground.

Being a teenager wasn't easy, especially if they lived in the Underground City where you had to fight to survive. Literally. Levi huffed as he wiped the blood off his cheek from beating another man to tried to talk shit about his late mom. As he turned down into an alleyway, a few men were seen hovering around something as they talked as he got closer, he could hear their conversation and decided to hide behind a barrel to eavesdrop.

"Think we should sell this little girl in the black market to pay for our next meal?"

"Nah, we should teach her a lesson for stealing from us" he partner said as his knuckles were cracked in the process, ready to beat the shit out of the girl they had cornered.

"You pigs didn't need all that food since you're already fat enough!" the girl yelled as she tried to stay brave.

"You little bitch!" the man yelled as he raised his fist as it made contact to her cheek.

The girl fell to the ground due to the force as she held her cheek in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes but refused to let them fall. She shakily got back up to her feet and glared at the men in front of her. "Y-You punch like an old lady! That didn't hurt at all! You're weak!"

"This kid just doesn't know when to stay down. Very well, you'll get what you asked for" the man growled as he went to punch the girl again.

She just stood there, waiting for the impact but it never came as a knife had been thrown into the man's head, killing him on the spot. His body collapsed onto the ground while his partner's throat was slit open by another blade. She watched in horror as blood splattered all over her clothes and face. Backing up to the worn down wall, her legs gave out as she slid to the ground, terrified of the bloodbath she had just witnessed. The person's shadow came closer to her shaking form before it appeared under the streetlight.

"You ok, kid?" Levi asked.

All she could respond with was a nod.

"So, you stole their food?"

"Th-they had a mountain of food on their plates....and I haven't eaten in days...." she whimpered as she held her hollow stomach.

At that, Levi finally got a good look at her form. She looked no older than ten. Her frame was all boney and sick looking, her ribs were probably showing under that oversized tattered shirt, hair all matted, dirty and probably overgrown. He looked just like he did before Kenny had found him after his mother died. He couldn't let her suffer the way he almost did, and based on her appearance, she doesn't have any parents either. With a small sigh, Levi knelt to her level on the ground and offered a hand.

"Come with me. I'll help you get your strength back but you gotta help clean and help me hunt when you do, ok?"

She stared at his hand before shakily reaching her own boney hand out to take it. Once she did, Levi helped her onto his back and started to carry her back to his place.

"You have a name?" he asked.

"(Y-Y/n)....it's just (Y/n)..." she whispered tiredly.

"(Y/n), huh? I'm Levi. Go ahead and sleep, it'll take a bit to get home."

'A home...? Sounds nice....' (Y/n) thought before she drifted to sleep.

Levi glanced back at her sleeping form before sneaking into alleys and back roads to keep out of sight, wondering what his life will be like now that he has a partner to survive with,

~Several Years Later~

Years have passed and Levi and (Y/n) have done well surviving the hell hole they live in. The constant struggles of earning money, stealing food when they couldn't afford any, kicking other thug's asses. It's hard, yes, but they have each other's backs and company when all felt wrong. Levi comes in the house and finds (Y/n) asleep on the loveseat with her legs hanging over the armrest. Lately, he's noticed how tired and sore she'll be during the day and how she would go earn money at night. One day, she went to bend over to pick up a cup that she accidently dropped but had hissed in pain while placing a hand at her lower back. Going to help and ask what was wrong, she waved at him saying she had lifted too many crates for an old man. Levi knew she saw lying since her lips always moved when she does but didn't say anything else.

Walking over to her, he shook her shoulder. "Oi. (Y/n). Wake up, lazy brat."

(E/c) eyes fluttered open as a yawn escaped her mouth. She stretched her stiff limbs before sitting up and rubbing her neck "Do you have to call me lazy everytime I take a nap?" she mumbled.

"Yes, I do. Now get up. I brought food and it's your night to cook."

"Damn it....alright alright. Just give me the bag already." she sighed as she took the bag from his hands and went to the kitchen to see what all he had brought. As She was sorting through the ingredients, Levi stood and watched in the doorway with his arms crossed before hearing her speak up while her back was turned to him.

"So....Kal s-said there's an open spot at-" she was cut off by a fist punching the wall.

"I don't want to hear it, (Y/n)! You promised that you wouldn't sell your body to disgusting men and be a prostitute!"

she turned to him "But Levi-"

"No buts! You're not doing it! I forbid you!" he seethed with a dark glare.

An audible gulp was heard and nothing else was said as she continued to figure out what she could make in silence. Sudden footsteps made their way over to the young woman before stopping right behind her as arms made their way around her waist.

"L-Levi...?"

"I know you want to help but I can't let you do it. You know about my mom and how she died. I don't want it to happen to you too." He said softly with his chin on her shoulder.

(Y/n) sighed but rested her hands on his arms, rubbing her thumb on his skin. "Alright....I won't do it."

"Good. Now, finish dinner while I get cleaned up." With that, his gave her cheek a soft kiss before letting go of her waist and leaving to clean up the non-existent dirt off of him. (Y/n)'s cheeks went ablaze as she held a hand to the cheek he had kissed. She felt happy but she knew that he will find out about her secret job soon and it would tear him apart.

~A few weeks later~

(Y/n) knew that once Levi had cleaned and put away his knife he goes straight to bed. As she watched and made sure he wasn't going to come out anytime soon, she grabbed her bag and quietly sneaked out of their house, making sure to lock it so he wouldn't get on her ass about 'forgetting to lock the door before bed'. Looking around for any stalkers, she quietly made her way down a street, unknowing of a person hiding in the shadows watching her every move.

After turning a few corners here and there, she finally arrived at her destination. She looked up at the sign and cringed in utter disgust, loathe, and regret.

Kal's Prostitute Service.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) reached for the doorknob only for it to be roughly snatched away by a hand. With a gasp, she was forcefully turned around and now staring into the fuming eyes of a very pissed Levi.

"L-Levi, I can explain-"

"You're damn fucking right you'll explain. You're coming home. Right. Now."

At that, he forcefully dragged her by the arm, ignoring her whimpers and protests of how he was hurting her wrist. He was fuming. Raging with anger. He didn't know where to start. She promised him she wouldn't do it. Why the hell would she break her promise?

When he got there, he slammed open the front door and tossed her inside. She landed on the hard floor with a gasp before turning to look up at him. She's seen him angry before, but fucking hell, he was terrifying right now. With a gulp, she sat up a bit with a small tremble of fear.

"L-Levi please let me explain..."

"Explain what?! You went behind my back and did things you promised you wouldn't do! What fucking reason do you have for going back on your word?!"

"I had to! I couldn't stay at home while you did all the work anymore! I wanted to help!"

"You knew how I felt about you doing this shit! Why did you do it?!"

"B-Because..."

"Because what?!"

"Because I did it so we could get our citizenships to live up on the surface instead of this shithole!"

Levi stopped in his tracks and just stared at her. That was her reason? To help get the both of you to the city above them? Tears watered her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she continued.

"I-I had to....I hate seeing you struggle and come home tired and dirty....I couldn't stand it anymore....s-so I took the job of being a-a prostitute.....only until we got the money to get out of this place and have a little extra to get the things we'll need....I couldn't stand being useless anymore, Levi. I-I'm so sorry...!"

She curled up on her spot on the floor and sobbed into her knees with her hands in her hair as Levi watched her, hearing her apologize over and over again through her hiccups. His anger burned out like a fire without air and carefully went over to her shaking form. When he kneeled down to her height, his arms encircled her form, making her tense as her sobs suddenly paused.

"How much...?" he asked softly.

"H-huh...?"

"How much do you have saved up?"

"M-More than enough to get us past the gate a-and to get our citizenship....I've asked around...and someone told me the prices......I saved twice as much than what we needed..." she explained.

He held her closer. "I'm sorry for getting so mad. I was just worried that I would lose you just like mom. I'm still not happy that you went behind my back....but I'm happy that you and I will get to live a better life up there."

(Y/n) blinked before she smiled through her tears and hugged him back. They both stayed like that for a small while before Levi pulled back with his signature glare. "Now, I'm all dirty."

That made (Y/n) laugh.

~Timeskip~

A few weeks had passed and Levi and (Y/n) had finally settled in their new home on the surface after buying some new furniture for it. And, of course, brooms. Levi couldn't forget the brooms. While Levi spent the days cleaning and organizing their new place, (Y/n) ran a small stand in the market. She had a big surprise for Levi. As the sun was starting to set, all the other stands were closing down, meaning (Y/n) could go home and have the day off tomorrow since her boss knew of her surprise. As she quickly packed up her stuff, she ran down the familiar street she takes everyday and soon made it home. With a smile, she went inside and placed her bag in its normal spot that Levi made just for her.

"I'm home~!"

Levi peeked his head from the kitchen and hummed before walking over to her. "You seem happy. What's the occasion?"

"You'll see tomorrow. Boss gave me the day off because of it."

"Oh? Then it must be a big surprise if you get an entire day off for it."

"Mhm! You'll love it~" she smiled.

"I enjoy everything that you give me, (Y/n)" he said as he ruffled her hair, making her whine in protest. Levi only chuckled and went back to the kitchen to finish the food he was preparing.

The next day, everything went smoothly until she had suddenly finished all her cleaning early before noon and had told Levi to get ready for his surprise. With a grunt, he got up from his spot on the couch and slipped on his boots as he waited for the woman to grab whatever she needed. Once she was back, the two headed out and began to walk. When they turned down a specific street, (Y/n) went behind him and covered his eyes, making him mumble a few curse words.

"Calm down, I'll make sure you won't fall. Just trust me." she smiled.

"Alright, fine. Hurry up, though. I don't like not seeing where I'm going." he huffed.

(Y/n) only giggled and carefully led him to a specific building before uncovering his eyes. In front of him was a small tea shop. And it wasn't no ordinary tea shop either. Inside was clearly cleaned to where it shined and several different types of tea was displayed neatly behind the counter with a good few table sets were evenly spread out enough where people can walk. He noticed that no one was here so he turned to her.

"You brought me to a tea shop with no one here?"

"Nooooooo. I brought you to your tea shop! You said you've always wanted to open one so, Ta-da~!" she grinned.

Levi was flabbergasted. The tea shop is his? He looked at her before suddenly pulling her in for a sweet kiss. (Y/n) tensed and turned a dark shade of red before slowly returning the gesture as her arms found themselves around his neck with his around her waist. The kiss lasted for a minute before Levi pulled back.

"I love it. And I love you. Thank you for everything." he smiled.

"You're welcome. And I love you too, Levi."

"I'm glad. Now, let's go see what kind of tea we have."

(Y/n) laughed at this but followed him inside as their new lives have only just begun.

#levi aot #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #shingeki no kyoujin levi #snk levi #levi x you #captain levi #levi ackerman #attack on titan #snk #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #snk fluff #snk x y/n #snk fanfiction #snk imagines #aot x you #aot anime #aot imagines #anime #attack on titan x you #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #levi heichou

[unhinged-wallflower]

Overwhelmed

Who: Geto Suguru x GN! Reader

Warnings: Comfort. Slightly reckless driving. Light angst? Grammatical Errors. A tiny, tiny, TINY spoiler.

A/N: This is inspired by true events. Unloading is not easy, and we get so wrapped up trying to ignore that it's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to cry when you don't know the reason and seek comfort from the person you trust the most.

Summary: You have to be fine, not for everyone's sake but for yourself. So, why after tonight's event, you find yourself crying and conflicted to call for help. Though someone notices your behavior and does not hesitate to be there for you.

Muffled voices surrounded you, but strangely enough, you can hear what they are saying. You laugh when everyone does, you answer when someone asks you things, but behind that smile, you were lost. It was like if your body was on autopilot.

You look at your watch, and it was getting late. "I'm sure everyone still wants to hear how great you are, but we have students to teach early tomorrow," you got up from your seat.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! Don't be a party pooper. I'm sure we can still hang a couple more minutes," Gojo pleaded.

You shook your head and gave an apologetic smile to the waitress who has been waiting to clean the table.

"They're right, Gojo. Can't you see it's time to close! Plus, we see each other every day." The black hair man scolded the pouting white-haired man.

Gojo pouted and got up, "You three go ahead. I'll pay for our meal."

Shoko was already walking ahead and pulling out her smokes. Geto walked a bit further but noticed how you were walking slow and looking at your surroundings. It was as if you were trying to distract yourself.

He opened the door and hold it for you.

"Hey, are you okay?" He stood next to you as you took your keys out of your pocket.

You scrunched your eyebrows, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be."

He shrugged, "Just asking." Though he knew that you were lying but didn't push anymore.

The four of you came in separate cars, but Gojo and Geto came together.

"Ah! I guess he's up to his antics again," You pointed at the window.

Shoko and Geto looked in your pointed direction. They see Gojo flirting with the young waitress. The three of you sigh, and Shoko decided to go back in to drag Gojo away from the poor woman.

You yawned and stretch out your limbs.

Geto chuckled, "I guess you should head out before you fall asleep here."

You hummed in agreement.

"Come on. I'll walk you to your car." He nodded towards where your car is parked.

As the two of you were walking, you were questioning if you should ask him if he wants to go with you, but your automated brain wasn't letting you.

Geto could have asked you if he could go with you, but he knew that something was going on with you, and you needed some space. Though that didn't stop him from worrying.

You got in your car. Before Geto closed the door for you, he stared at you.

"Umm, Sugu?" You asked nervously. Squirming at his intense gaze.

He shook his head, "Sorry! Are you sure you able to drive? I know you struggle driving at night." He wanted to stall, anything to be by your side.

You gave a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine! The campus is close by. I can make it! Besides, you have me in find friends. So, if anything, just look where I am at."

That's the thing he doesn't want to resort to that. He wants to believe that you'll be fine, but his gut is warning him that he should be with you.

He nodded, agreeing with your last statement, "Please drive safe then. Text me once you're close by."

He lets you close the door, his eyes not leaving your car as it drives away.

*******

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips, and in a millisecond, a sob came afterward.

You were driving to an intersection, and it's your turn to make a stop. You were about to make a left, but your head wasn't letting you think straight. You were so caught up sobbing that you didn't properly look at both sides and almost hit a car.

"Clear your head, Y/N. You can't drive like this. Clear. Your. Head." You took a couple of deep breaths. Once the road was clear, you made the left turn, but you started to sob again. Your "Clear Mind" mantra was working-ish, but the tears weren't stopping.

Stopping at a traffic light, you started to rant, "You we-were never in m-my life, and you have the au-audacity to talk shit about m-me?! W-who do y-you t-think you are to say...to say th-that I've never done any-anything to p-prove that I can l-lead the c-clan. T-that I'm not smart en-enough to lead. I'm a t-teacher for fuck sakes!!!"

Your eyes glance at the light. The traffic light taking its time to turn green.

"Uncle, y-you are in-in no position to-to say that-that I'm n-not worthy of the title. B-because I am w-worthy!!!! I-I don't have sons w-who kno-knocked up and ha-have di-different baby mommas!!!! Plus, I ca-can destroy your weak ass sons!!!"

You reach to turn up the music. The back of your head wanted to deny this action, telling you that you need to let everything out. Though you just wanted to block your thoughts.

When your sibling found out about it and told you, it didn't hit like right now. In fact, you laughed and said that your uncle's sons didn't have anything compared to you. The elders in your clan already confirm that you were next in line to lead your clan. So, why is something like what your uncle said affecting you?

Shouldn't you be crying over your work? That there were innocent people you couldn't save, and their families blame you.

From taking your students to missions, making sure they survived, making sure the elders didn't touch one of Gojo's students, preparing to become the new clan leader, training to perfect your domain expansion, to go on solo missions. It was an endless cycle, but why are you crying for a small comment?

Could it be that you're just overwhelmed? That this is your body trying to unload?

Your thoughts were all over the place, and the music wasn't helping. The light turned green, but soon the road lights were fading, making it harder for you to drive.

"I can't drive like this," You let out a shaky breath. "What s-should I do?" You hiccupped.

You slowly pulled to the side of the road and parked your car. When you thought you had calm down, another wave of sobs burst out of your lips. Before you know it, you screamed, and punch the steering wheel trying to let go of your frustrations.

Minutes turned to an hour, and you were dozing off. Would it be a bad idea to sleep on the road for the night? Then again, you'll have to explain to Suguru why you haven't come home yet.

You didn't want to bother anyone, especially at this hour. You've learned that dealing with these emotions was best because who could understand you better than yourself?

Although...

You have friends who trust you with their vulnerability, but do you trust them with yours?

What's the point of having friends if you can't be real with them?

Aren't you the type of person friends come for comfort?

For once, don't you want someone to comfort you?

Lowering the music volume. Your phone was in your hand, and unconsciously you dial Geto. Biting your lip, you immediately cancel the call. You feared what he'll think or that he can't be there for you.

The ring from your phone startled you, he called you back.

You cleared your throat and swallowed a chunk of saliva. Hoping he wouldn't notice your broken voice.

"Hello?"

"Unlock your door." That was all he said before he hanged up.

You looked around your surroundings and saw a dark outline of a car parked behind you. A figure walked towards your door, and thanks to the moonlight, you were able to see that it was Suguru.

When he opened the door, your lips quivered, and another wave of tears streams down your cheeks.

"S-Sugu I-" You wanted to ask how or why, but he didn't give you a chance.

He leans towards you and unbuckles your seatbelt.

"I going to pick you up and put you in the back, okay?" His face was inches from yours.

You nodded and hiccupped.

He leaves for a second to open the back door and comes back, picking you up gently.

After he places you gently on the back seat, a voice comes from the direction of the other car.

"Are they alright?!" they yelled, worry hidden in their voice.

Geto pulls back and wipes some of your tears away, "I'll be back."

You didn't want him to leave; his warmth made you feel safe.

It felt like an eternity for Suguru to come back, but then you saw the headlights from the other car turned on and drove off.

You hiccupped, and the tears never seemed to end.

"Sorry if I took long. Mind if you scoot over." He said softly.

Your mind was back to autopilot and did what was commanded.

The two of you sat there uncomfortable. Geto did not know if it's okay to pull you into a hug, but he decided to do it. He makes you sit on his thighs, chest against chest, and he then pushes your face towards his neck. One arm is wrapped around your waist, while the other one is rubbing your back.

"It's okay to cry. But for once, let me hold you and soothe your raging thoughts, just like you've done for me. Let me be your shoulder for you to cry on, trust me with your vulnerability," he pleaded and hold you tighter.

You wanted to push him away, but instead, your hands reached to grip his shirt. You gritted your teeth and let out another sob. Suguru didn't stop rubbing your back and kept giving soothing words.

This craving that was starting to build, you didn't want it to end. You never thought that being wrapped in someone's arm can be so warm and slightly refreshing.

"Whenever you feel ready to talk, I'll be here with you. It doesn't matter if it's something small or silly; your feelings are important. Don't think that I'll judge you because I won't," he reassured you.

It took you a while to gain some of your composure back, but you manage to regain some strength. A shaky breath left your lips, and you pull back from his warmth. His hand reaches your cheeks and wipes away your tears. You were able to hold eye contact with him, and his gentle smile makes you feel at ease.

"Sorry for making a-a mess on your sh-shoulder," you reached to pat dry the wetness.

He grabs your hand and intertwines it with his, "It's okay." While the other one is still wiping your rebel tears.

"Umm, I'm-I'm sorry." You mumbled and looked behind him. Finding the passing cars interesting.

He knew why you were apologizing for and clenched his jaw. "There's nothing to be sorry... Look at me."

You hesitated, but he gently grabs your chin and pulls your attention back to him.

"I want to be here with you. For you." He squeezes your hand. "Remember when I was pushing everyone away, but you were able to see through me?"

You nodded.

"I didn't know I needed someone until you came, and you told me that it's okay to feel the way I was feeling. So, what did you do?" He said a bit humorously.

You smiled at the memory.

"You made it your mission to pull me out of that hole."

"I did it because I care," you unknowingly whispered.

He squeezed your hand, "Exactly! And guess what? I care about you too."

That word care, it was still foreign to you. Strange, huh? You care about others but have a hard time believing when others say they care about you. Maybe it was because people have let you down when you needed their comfort. Or chose to ignore your cries for help.

Yet, here's this man giving you warmth and comfort. Something that you have been craving for too long. It was still foreign for you, but your craving wasn't going to deny it.

When his hands cradled your face, your cheeks flared up. This type of intimacy was a bit too much, but you welcomed it. Finally, realizing Suguru is being genuine and not acting.

Tears started to stream down, and you leaned to hug him. The man didn't hesitate to hug back.

"I hope those are happy tears."

BRB I going to go cry now. Ps. I made it home safely.

JJK Masterlist

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #geto suguru

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ A FUTURE COP ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: hi i hope ur having the greatest week on the planet , can i request where reader is younger than hank and she tells him shes pregnant and telling him with some fluff

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

You have lost the count of how many minutes you've been sitting in the locker room, in silence. Your head is loud enough right now. Hank has left the police station already, and you're waiting the time accorded before doing the same and driving your way to his house. Almost one year and you keep staying there ten minutes more than him, to not make anyone suspect about your relationship. But you aren't sure if you're ready to go.

The fear of losing Hank for what you have to tell him is consuming you, like a big fire reducing your bones to ashes. It's painful, for describing it somehow. The pressure within your chest is going to kill you, suddenly breaking into an anguish crying, resting your back against the wall and curling your legs to your torso. The two of you haven't talked about starting a family. The loss of Justin still being an open wound, bleeding a little bit every day. How are you supposed to tell him that you're pregnant?

“(Y/N)?”

Antonio's voice races your heart, peeking his head out through the lockers. He sounds worried. He looks worried, walking slowly towards you without profering any sharp move. Kneeling next to you, not sure about what he can do, the detective holds your hand to caress the back of them with his thumb; thinking that this gesture can help you to relax. But the sob continues stuck in your throat and the tears roam your cheek like a torrential and furious racing river.

Sitting down by your side, Antonio places an arm over your shoulders, urging you to rest your head on his. He doesn't know what to say. And even if he wanted to say something, his vocal cords fail when your phone dings with a notification and he sees the screen illuminating over the floor. Hank. “Voight?” He thinks raising up an eyebrow, in a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Where are you? Something jumped off?”

Grabbing your phone and blocking it to keep it inside your pocket, you turn at the man. Your lips are trembling. You're not sure if you can talk, but you need to rip it off from your chest. You don't want to lose Hank, at this point, not even your work matters.

“Ant—Antonio… I am… pregnant”.

Shaking his head slightly, his eyes widened surprised. His forefinger points at the floor for a moment, to the position of your phone a second ago, asking without words if Hank is the father. You nod pressing your lips. He's in shock. You can see in his eyes, trying to find the correct sentence to say. Congratulations? Are you kidding me? Voight, seriously?

“We… started to date… a year and a half ago and… hm… made it official almost a ye—year ago”.

“Who knows it?”

“Only you. No one else. And I'm terrified, be—because… I was there when he lost Justin and… shit, we've always taken all the care, but… this happened”. Biting your bottom lip, as the tears keep filling up your eyes, you try to not cry anymore. “I don't know… how to tell him. I don't know if he wants this. I don't want to lose him, Antonio”.

“Hey, listen now. You're not gonna lose him, okay?” Turning his body at you and adopting your same position, he hits your shoulder briefly with his fist. “I've an idea. Write him and tell him that you're on your way and meet me in the hall”.

Nodding, he shows you a soft smile before standing up to leave the locker room. Cleaning your cheeks with the back of your hands, you do exactly what he has told you. After writing to your boyfriend and picking up your things, you walk out of the place to wait downstairs. Not a minute after, Antonio comes from behind the main desk saying his goodbye to Platt, before following you to the outside.

Offering you the bag he's carrying in his right hand, keeping the other in a pocket, you take it with curiosity.

“This department, his career, is his life. This is a good way to tell him”.

Grabbing the piece of clothing inside it, you read the emblem of Chicago P.D. before noticing the small size of the shirt.

“We usually give these shirts to the kids who come to see the station”.

Yes. That's the better idea. Your lips curve up in a tender grin of gratitude. You can't help but hug him, without caring who can be watching you.

“C'mon, go to his house and give it to him”.

“Thank you, Antonio… I don't… I don't know what to say”.

“You don't have to. Tell me tomorrow how it has goin'”.

In silence, you nod after placing a kiss on his cheek, keeping back the grey t-shirt inside the bag to go find your car in the private parking.

As always, the road is somewhat empty, reaching Hank's neighborhood in a sight. You can see the lights turned on inside, through the windows, and a free place to park your SUV behind his. Taking your time to leave your car there, you step out having a deep breath trying to calm yourself and your nerves. In your head dance a lot of possible ways about how he will react, and every one of them scares you like never.

Putting your eyes on the bag, you find the needed encouragement to come into his house. Leaving your backpack at the entrance, you lead your steps to the back garden, finding Hank sitting on a wooden chair, leaning forward and shaking his knees nervously. You haven't come this ‘late’ before. But as soon as you sit by his side, placing the bag over the dinner table, he feels less agitated.

Resting his back against his chair, tangling his hands over his abdomen, he can't help but feel curiosity about the content of it and the worrying installed on your face.

“What kind of hell are you into, hm?”

Rubbing the line of his jaw with his thumb, he intertwines his hands again waiting for a response. Maybe we need to talk aren't the words you want to choose, but they're the ones that escape from your throat. Watching how his face hardens, you gulp before licking your bottom lip.

“I don't know how it happened. It's not like… I planned it”.

“Don't beat around the bush and be clear with me”. Hank gesticulates with his forefinger, as he always does when he's losing his nerves. “That's why you have been acting distant, right? If you don't want to continue, just tell me”.

He hisses the last three words, hiding the misery in his tone of voice, leaning forward to you. And that really hurts you, to think that he believes you don't love him anymore. That he may think that his life is not compatible with yours. But that's bullshit. You would make them both fit at any cost, if you would have to.

“What? No, no, no! I'm not going to leave you, Hank. I don't want to”.

“Then, what is this about?”

You can't help but close your eyes and take a deep, deep, deep breath until you feel your lungs about to explode. Expelling the air through your nostrils, you decide to give him the bag instead of continuing screwing up the situation by using the wrong words. Frowning, he slides his hand inside it to take off the shirt of small size. Putting it between his fingers and in front of his hands, Hank raises an eyebrow without understanding what that shirt means.

“You stole it?”

“Technically… It wasn't me, but… Antonio”.

“Antonio stole a shirt and gave it to you, because he doesn't know how to return it?”

Moving your lips in silence, trying to say something, you can't believe he's really this fucking dumb. Shrugging he keeps it back inside the bag, pressing his lips.

“I will do it tomo—”.

“To be a detective, you're too stupid, Henry”. The laugh fills up the garden for a moment, starting to feel less scared than five minutes ago. “Hold the shirt again and put that brain of yours to work”.

He grunts tired of your games, doing what you just told him. Placing it stretched over the table, your boyfriend seems thoughtful rubbing his chin. Looking at you sideways, he shakes his head not getting what you want to tell him, turning towards you clapping his hands.

“I hate riddles. Spit it of a damn time, sweetheart”.

“I'm pregnant”.

Hank doesn't move a single inch of his body, as if he hadn't listened to you. His brown eyes are glued on yours. He doesn't even blink, looking at you as if he's studying your face to make sure himself that it's not a macabre joke. That you aren't kidding. That you're telling him the truth. When he kisses his lips, still remaining silence, you feel at the edge.

“Listen, I was scared of telling you. Not only because it means that people should know we are together, but because I don't know how you feel about it. But I swear for my badge, if you don't say anything in ten seconds, I'm gonna punch you in the face. And believe me, I have had a horrible day, Hank. Got too much rage accumulated in my hands”.

“I don't know what to say”. He whispers while you finish your threat.

Barely breathing, you nod, licking your incisors, putting your gaze away somewhere in the garden. It wasn't the response you wanted to hear, but it was the one you were waiting for. Being sure that he's going to end your relationship, but at least taking care of your baby, the tears fill up your eyes, reddening them again.

Cleaning a furtive one running down your left cheek, you get up from your seat about to leave the porch to come into the house, grab your things and go to your apartment. The only thing you were afraid of since you met him is now destroying you slowly. But Hank doesn't let you pass him away, gently gripping your forearm to make you take a step back and sit on his lap.

“I'm sorry…” You sob covering your face with both hands, not being able to look at him.

“Why?”

“I just… I don't wanna lose you. I've never felt happier in my… fucking life, before meeting you. I'm my best version since we're together. I lo—I love you with all my heart, I swear it…”

“Is this because of Justin?”

Your cry suddenly stops, using the sleeves of your jacket to clean your face, raising it towards him. It's been a long time since you talked about his son for the last time, keeping the mourning for himself.

“I saw you, Hank. You were devastated… Your wound is still bleeding and it's okay. It's normal, I understand it. I will never tell you to not cry for him. I didn't want you to… feel like I'm trying to cover this hole in your heart, just because the only thing I want is you to be happy. I didn't wa—”.

“Justin died, that's a fact. I miss him every day of my life. I should have been a better father for him. Maybe he would be alive now, maybe that night wouldn't have ever happened. But that doesn't mean I don't want this”. He points at the grey t-shirt, giving you some hope. “There's no one who cares more about me than you do. I've imagined my life with you thousands of times. How it would be to have a family together. Do the right thing, because it's never too late to change. And as you said so, you made me a better man too. I want it, (Y/N). I want this life with you. I want this kid. And I want you”.

You pout at him, feeling much better knowing that everything is clear. Placing a hand on the back of your neck, he pushes you closer to catch your lips with his to transmit you all the happiness and the tenderness he has inside his soul, after giving him this second chance in life.

“We will talk with Crowley and Platt tomorrow, okay with that?” You nod in response. “So… Antonio knows, uh?”

“Yeah, he… found me crying in the locker room and saw your message on my phone. It was his idea”.

“He had a good one”. Hank assures while chuckling, urging to rest your head against his chest. “I will give him a biscuit tomorrow, you know, for being a smart dog”.

“He wasn't in Narcotics for anything…”

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡ #hank voight x reader #hank voight imagine #hank voight #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #one chicago

[simeon-with-a-shotgun]

So a thing I've noticed

Older generations make fun of people who are struggling and then cry a river when people are dying. While younger generations help people whenever they can, and fight for the people dying so no one else dies.

Many a time have I been filled with rage over my mother making fun of and or laughing at homeless people or people in financial struggle asking for help

The other day there was a homeless man on the road holding a sign. He wasnt even asking verbally. And this man stopped his car. Got put fo the car. Then began to verbally assault the homeless man telling him to get a job and how pathetic he was. And my mother encouraged him and was like "finally someone says it! Hes fully capable of walking into walmart and getting a job! You go man!"

And I was so fucking tempted to jump put of the moving car on the highway to give this innocent man whatever I had in my purse. It was disgusting.

I dont care if he does use the money for booze or whatever the fuck. At least I'm the one with an ounce of kindness to give him what little I can.

THE OTHER THING

Our neighbors horse had a medical issue recently and they can't really afford the vet bill to help it. So they put on Facebook what was happening and said. "Please if anyone was planning on getting me anything for my upcoming birthday, money is fine instead to pay (horses name) medical bill. "

AND MY MOTHER FUCKIGN MADE FUN OF HER

What the fuck made boomers think that people asking for a little bit of help should be shamed upon.

Thsi is coming from the same woman that tells everyone and their mothers about how "good I turn out" when I come home and say that I didnt eat because I gave my food away to someone that cant affors it or all the times I've split my food with my poor friends that never ate lunch at school because of money issues. Or when I gave my bestfriend 10 bucks to go to home coming because he barely had 5 dolllars to his name at the time.

I grew up poor as dirt. The first time I was allowed to pick up a cheap toy from the store without being told "$2 is too much ask santa" was when I was 10.

I never finnish full meals I always have leftovers so when I noticed people around me not eating I'd ask them if they'd like to split my food. Then I'd start bringing extra food because of them.

I was never taught that. I did that myself.

AND MY MOTHER HAS THE AUDACITY TO CLAIM THAT SHE TAUGHT ME THE KINDNESS THAT I HOLD.

Yes she does good deeds. She helps people out. If one of her students camt afford fees she let's them learn for free and she makes deals they can afford. She does care. And she is a good person. But she didnt teach me shit.

I'm just absolutely fucking ashamed to see her treat people that way. Just because you're not saying it to their faces does not justify shit.

[hotcheri]

Always Something There to Remind Me (a Jen/Khalil Black Lightning fanfic)

by hotcheri © 2021

DISCLAIMER: I own none of the Black Lightning characters. They solely belong to DC Comics and the CW Network. This is just my take on what could have happened after the show ended.

Prologue

Khalil's POV

They were meditating when TC crept into Khalil's mindscape like a thief in the night.

Well, at least, Khalil was meditating. He loved to empty his mind of all thoughts and focus on his breathing, relishing the mental stillness and the sense of peace he didn't have in his normal life.

Painkiller sat to the side of the mental dojo like he always did whenever Khalil was centering himself, a mocking sneer twisting his lips up as Khalil tried to ignore the rage that was baking off his mind twin like a rabid fever.

Painkiller was always angry, and the people he was mostly enraged at were the Pierces. Jen, to be exact. They lived in Painkiller's head rent free, and since Khalil shared the same mind as him, and almost all of his thoughts, the image of Jen was never far from Khalil. Pain in the ass Jen, who also happened to be Khalil's first love. What a mind fuck to love someone with all your heart while part of you needed to kill her and was in pure agony every second she was alive. Khalil didn't need anyone to tell him about mind fucks, having Painkiller relentlessly prowling through his mind was more than enough.

Every time TC appeared in Khalil's mindscape, Painkiller leapt up from his seat and started pacing back and forth in a tight little line like a tiger stalking its prey, hands clasped behind his back, nostrils flared, glaring at TC as if he wanted nothing more than to boot him out of his head after savaging him a little.

Too bad it's our head, and I'm trying to hear what he has to say.

The thought flitted through Khalil's mind grimly, and he sucked in a breath before opening his eyes and gazing at TC, who kept shooting quick little fearful glances at Painkiller. Khalil knew how he felt. Until he had started working actively with Painkiller, forcing the duality in his brain to coexist, he'd been terrified of him too.

"Uh, hi guys," TC started, his voice trembling as he looked around for exit points even though all he had to do was break the connection with the chip in Khalil's brain if he wanted to leave. Khalil supposed when someone entered a room and found themselves face to face with Painkiller, even if it was a virtual reality room, that person could get very scared very fast. In cases like that, logic was the first thing to escape.

Khalil liked the kid, had liked him even before he had locked Painkiller behind a firewall in his head and had shown Jen how to coax Khalil out of the safe space he'd created in his mind. Khalil knew without a doubt that the Pierces, especially Anissa, would have taken him out after Jen had blasted him with lightning to ward off Painkiller's attack on her family as he tried to complete the kill directive, because that's exactly what he would have done.

But TC had done the inconceivable. He'd managed to read Khalil's real thoughts, thoughts that had somehow filtered through the Painkiller operating system as soon as he set eyes on Jen. Thoughts that he must have been hiding way down in his secret heart, feelings that must have survived the A.S.A. mindwipe that transformed him into a lean, mean, biological weapon. As he lay prone on the table in Gambi's work station, on the verge of unconsciousness, his sharp ears had listened as TC, a total stranger, had his back.

"Hey. Who's Jen?" TC had interrupted the post fight argument, glancing around at the faces of people he didn't know.

Impatiently, with the touch of heat that Khalil loved and had missed with a sudden depth of emotion he hadn't felt since he was just track star Khalil, and not two warring parts of a government weapon whole, Jen replied, "That's me."

"He loves you."

And Jen's suddenly shaky, tear-filled voice had whispered, "How do you know that?"

TC's answer had been simple. "He told me."

Yeah, TC was good people. And even though the reunion between Khalil and Jen hadn't lasted, even though it had been bittersweet and doomed to fail with a painful, brusque ending, for a short, sweet time, he had been happy again.

But there was no use in thinking about that, no use in brooding over something he couldn't fix. With Painkiller in his head, being with Jen wasn't an option.

Painkiller was the first to talk, stepping forward as TC gave Khalil a half-hearted wave. "Oh, you must be crazy bringin' your ass here," he growled out in his distorted, angry voice.

TC took an involuntary step back, wringing his hands. Khalil could feel the fear in the kid increase as Painkiller stopped inches from his face, glowering down at him.

Raising a hand, Khalil talked to Painkiller like a patient parent calming down a tantrum throwing toddler. "I invited him," he lied, not caring that Painkiller would know that he hadn't.

Sharing his mind with a psychopathic, heartless killer sucked all the time, and keeping secrets was nearly impossible. Painkiller knew he was claustrophobic, that he loved trains, and that he thought about the one that got away daily. But when it came to people Khalil cared for, he didn't give a fuck if Painkiller knew he was lying to protect them from his rage. TC was a friend, and he wasn't going to let Painkiller's angry ass intimidate him.

"Don't think I won't kick your ass, too," Painkiller growled. Khalil fixed him with a steady look. He'd won more fights against Painkiller, especially after his return after a year long silence, and Painkiller knew it. After a few seconds, Painkiller sucked his teeth and resumed scowling at TC.

Spreading his arms out placatingly, TC asked, "What if I come with good and great news?"

A curious expression darted across Painkiller's face. Khalil caught it and grinned to himself. Psychotic or not, everyone liked the idea of good news.

"Speak," Painkiller ground out.

Swallowing nervously, TC said, "Tobias Whale is dead."

Okay, that was unexpected, and so was the rush of relief that coursed through Khalil's body, relaxing muscles that had been tense ever since he had started working for Tobias. Even though the A.S.A. mindwipe had taken all his memories and locked them away, they had been retrieved as soon as TC had put the firewall in his head, and so too had the underlying current of fear that always pulsed whenever he thought of Tobias.

And now his former boss, the man who had ripped out his spine and dumped him on the church steps when he was done with him, the evil torturer who had been responsible for leading Khalil over to the dark side was finally dead. Closing his eyes, Khalil sent up a prayer of thanks to a God he no longer strictly believed in.

Even after becoming Agent Odell's  chief asset, Khalil still harbored thoughts that Tobias would come to him, eager to finish what he had started, wanting revenge for Syonide's death, the attempted robbery at the club before Khalil and Jen became runaways, and every single other thing he'd done that had pissed Tobias off. He'd reluctantly come to believe that a showdown with Tobias was inevitable, and even though his road to atonement had led him to Akashic Valley and a new life, he always knew that Tobias would eventually come for him. It was in his nature. But now this piece of good news had been thrown into his lap and Khalil took a moment to bask in gratitude.

Painkiller's reaction was the polar opposite of Khalil's restrained joy. Anger blazed onto his face and his brow creased as he listened to TC give Khalil the best news he'd heard in a while.

Sounding like a petulant child after being asked if he had McDonald's money, Painkiller groaned. "Damn. I wanted to kill him." He fisted both hands into his unruly curls and glowering up at the ceiling. "That's not good news." Turning to Khalil, his voice turned wheedling. "Let me kick his ass just a little."

With a quick glance towards Painkiller, TC cleared his throat before dropping his bombshell. "I've isolated the system code for the kill order. I can free you."

TC backed away till his back was against the wall, as far as he could get from a snarling Painkiller. When he got furious, Painkiller acted just like a wolf ready to attack. Luckily, Khalil had him on a mental leash. Ignoring him, Khalil focused his attention on TC.

"TC, what is your other news?"

Khalil let out a shaky breath, a glimmer of hope blooming in his chest.

At last.

"Good." Both TC and Khalil turned to face Painkiller, who had a look on his face so unnatural that Khalil didn't immediately recognize it. He looked like a doomed man seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Is he...is he happy? "Let's do it."

"But there's a catch," TC started slowly, plucking nervously at his sleeve as his eyes slid from Khalil to Painkiller and back again. Khalil sighed, motioning to TC to continue. There was always a catch and he knew that better than anybody, but for a second he had allowed himself to believe that getting rid of the kill order that brought such pain to both Painkiller and him, finally being freed from the chains that the A.S.A had wound around his body and in his mind, was ripe for the taking, with no blowback. "It's linked to everything you know and love about the whole Pierce family. If you break the kill order, you won't remember the Pierces at all."

The breath went out of Khalil all at once, leaving him feeling weak and boneless. He was glad he was sitting down, because if he had been standing when TC spoke, the strength would have ran out of his legs. And even though this was all in his mind, his physical body had stopped breathing for a second, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

This wasn't a catch, it was a fucking dilemma. There had to be another way.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Khalil found himself thinking about the technology he and Painkiller had found in Maya's safe house. Surely there was something there that would help isolate the kill switch without messing with his memories more than they'd already been messed with? Because this alternative that TC was suggesting... it wasn't fair. After leaving Freeland to keep Jen and her family safe and away from him, hell, after saving Anissa's wife from kidnappers, after everything that had happened in Khalil's life to get him to this point in time, losing the only good memories he had left just plain wrong.

"So what?" Painkiller asked, his top lip turned up into a snarl. Whether he was oblivious to the wave of emotion Khalil was weathering, or if he just didn't care, Khalil didn't know. Painkiller knew what he wanted. He was tired of the agony that came with not fulfilling the kill order. "They're pains in the ass anyway!"

In a chillingly calm voice that brooked no argument, Khalil stared evenly at Painkiller and said, "Shut up and sit your black ass down." Shocked into obedience, Painkiller sank down to the floor as Khalil looked at TC, a pleading tone in his voice. "TC, there's got to be another way around."

"There's none." Khalil could hear the despair in TC's voice, and he knew he was telling the truth. Of course he was. "I've checked and I've double checked."

Painkiller was still silent, and Khalil turned to look at him. "Damn!" He clenched his fist so hard that the veins in his arm popped out, but he took no notice. "You won't stop, will you? Sooner or later you're going to kill Jen and the rest of the Pierces."

Nodding sagely, like he had been the one meditating, Painkiller said, "Best believe. But I'm not nobody's puppy." He pointed at Khalil, his face stern and absolutely serious. "Cut the damn cord."

The muscles in Khalil's jaw worked as he stood up, turning his back on TC and Painkiller so that they couldn't see the emotions playing across his face. He wanted to be free of the kill code more than anything, needed Painkiller to be at rest so that he could figure out a way to become whole again. But the cost- losing Jen again- was it just too great?

Khalil closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was back on the Pierce's roof with Jen after Painkiller had broken free of the firewall for a couple of nasty minutes to wrap his hands around Jen's neck. He could feel everything in that moment, the wind brushing lightly against his face, the shingles of the roof under his sneakers, the terrified look Jen shot him before schooling her features into a coolness Khalil had never seen on her face. Both looks hit him like a ton of bricks.

She was scared of him.

Painkiller had shown her his true colors and had, once again, pushed someone he loved away from him. And what she had said had chilled him to the core, a sudden lump rising in his throat, and tears smarting in his eyes as she let him go.

"I can't love a weapon that's pointed at my family, even if it does have a soul." Her shoulders hunched pitifully as she wrapped her arms around her legs, all at once seeming far younger than her years. "See you around, Khalil."

He took one last look at her, her curly hair brushing past her chin, her eyes chilly and flinty in the dusk as she turned away from him, blinking away tears of her own. "No. You won't," he said, and with that, he had exited Jen's life.

Some things you can't go back to. The way Jen had ended things between them still hurt, and the realization that he wasn't going to be able to salvage things with her caused him pain that was almost physical, but if TC was able to isolate the kill code and erase his memories of her, the pain would go. All the pain would disappear, and his fresh start in Akashic Valley would be just that, a fresh start.

Behind him, TC started to say, "If you need more time, I can-," but by now, Khalil's mind was made up. There was no other choice.

"I always known I'd give my life for that girl." Khalil heaved a sad sigh, running a hand over his face as he turned to look at a nervous TC and an impassive Painkiller. Painkiller smirked, knowing what decision Khalil had made, and in that moment, Khalil hated him, the A.S.A., Odell- everyone who had gotten him into this situation. Especially himself. "Never thought I'd have to forget her." A nod towards TC. "Do it."

TC nodded dumbly, just as another thought flitted into Khalil's mind. If TC was able to isolate the kill code and erase some of his memories, wasn't it possible that he could remove his very worst memory?

Before he left Freeland for good after shooting Odell and letting Black Lightning deal with the evil son of a bitch however he saw fit, Khalil took a detour to the cemetery, picking a bunch of blooming flowers from the ramshackle garden of Mrs. Sutton, the Payne's old landlady. Khalil didn't think she would mind, she had loved Nichelle Payne dearly.

Once at the cemetery, he had laid the flowers on his mother's grave, sat down with his back resting against her tombstone and cried a little. Nobody had been around to see him; Freeland residents weren't crazy about going to the graveyard at nighttime.

"I shot the guy who made me kill you, ma," he'd whispered, his words blown away by the breeze as the tears blurred his vision. "I know you always said vengeance never pays, but I had to do it. I'm sorry, ma. I love you, and I'm so, so sorry."

Nichelle Payne had raised him to be the best in whatever he did, and what had he done in return? Snapped her neck, and the best excuse he could come up with was he'd just been following orders. The knowledge weighed heavily on his soul, and he knew that he would pay for it in time. Everything comes due. But if TC could somehow make him forget...

"I can try," TC said doubtfully, and Khalil raised his eyes from his clenched fists, remembering where he was through the sadness that engulfed his soul.

"No." Khalil shook his head, resigning himself to reality. "It's part of who I am, and I need to find redemption for it, or a way to live with myself."

TC opened his mouth and hesitated before shyly asking, "Do you want to- I mean, I could give you Jen's number and you could talk to her one last time?"

Painkiller groaned, storming around the circumference of the dojo angrily. "Can we fucking do this already? No more flashbacks, no phone calls- get this kill order the fuck out of my head!"

"Our head," Khalil reminded him. "And right now, I'm in charge." He bit his lip, wrestling with himself. Saying goodbye to Jen wouldn't make things better, it would just bring home the truth that he would never see his first girlfriend again, and even if by some weird coincidence he did, he wouldn't know her. It was stupid. They already said their goodbyes on the Pierce roof, what would he gain from this? "What's her number?"

Painkiller actually growled at this and stomped off somewhere. Khalil could still feel him burning in his mind, but it looked like he had opted out of being a part of Khalil's final goodbye. Not that Khalil minded in the least. Before Painkiller, his relationship with Jen had been special. He didn't want his insane mind twin tainting the very last moment he would have with her.

Courteously, TC severed the connection with Khalil's brain chip, promising to return when the phone call was over and start the process. Khalil stared down at his phone and punched in Jen's number before he could lose his cool. Meditation seemed like a lifetime away, it was all he could do to keep his heart from galloping away like a war horse.

Jen's phone rang once, twice, three times, and Khalil was just about to hit the end button when suddenly-

"Hi." Jen's bold, brash voice was in his ear, and Khalil forgot to breathe. The background noise was filled with laughter and music, a noise that Khalil associated with family time, even though he was never fortunate enough to have enjoyed family time with his mother working two jobs, his father in jail, and his brother running the streets with the 100. "You know you're calling from a- Anissa, stop!" Khalil closed his eyes, savoring the sound of Jen's hearty giggles as someone- Anissa, probably- tickled her or something similar. "You're calling from a private number, who is this?"

A male chuckle sounded, and Khalil recognized Gambi's voice sounding from the distance. "Probably a scam, hang up before they get all your info."

Same old Gambi, trusting nobody. A wistful smile turned up Khalil's lips, but he still couldn't come up with a thing to say. It was like all his thought circuits were down, and he wondered if Painkiller had something to do with it.

"Helloooo? Who is this?" Jen's voice turned speculative, and she gave a derisive snort. "This better not be TC playing with me again, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not going to prom wit' you?"

"I'm literally right here," TC protested in the background.

And Khalil found that he couldn't bring himself to say anything, let alone goodbye. He wasn't great with goodbyes, anyway, so who was he fooling? "Uh, sorry," he muttered. Why had he thought this would be a good idea again? "Wrong number."

In the few seconds it took for him to press the end call button, Jen's voice sharpened with recognition and she exclaimed, "Wait, that sounds a little like-."

Call ended blinked up at him from his phone screen as his pulse jumped in his throat. Safe getaway. Of course, he'd ended the call before Jen could say his name, or even more hurtful, the name of somebody else.

But fuck, hearing her voice was bittersweet.

"You hung up?" TC was back in his head, eyes gleaming with relief that Painkiller wasn't around.

Nodding, Khalil strove to keep his face blank and impassive. "Yeah. I'd rather remember her the way she was on that phone, happy, carefree, pain in the ass J."

She sounded happy and normal, like the old her, before the 100 had kidnapped her and she had discovered she had powers. She sounded like the Queen of Garfield. By coming back into her life even for a few seconds, he might jeopardize that happiness, and if there's one thing he wanted her to be after the events of the past few years, it was at peace and she wasn't going to find it with him.

"But you didn't get to say goodbye."

Pity was written all across TC's face, and once again, Khalil felt the wave of sadness engulf him. Did it ever stop? Even with his memories of Jen gone, would he really be at peace?

"I didn't need to." Khalil stopped, his shoulders slumped, and came to stand next to TC, who was still looking at him with that sympathetic look on his face. "TC..."

Looking up at him, TC said, "Yeah?"

"Don't tell her."

TC let out a dramatic gasp that made Khalil crack a smile, even though he had never felt less like smiling. "What? But I was just about to-?"

"No." Khalil shook his head resolutely. "Let her live her life." TC opened his mouth to protest, but Khalil talked over him. It was the only way. "You told me she lost the guy she was seeing, and she's already lost so much. Just- let her think what she's been thinking, that I left Freeland to live my life." He started pacing like Painkiller sometimes did, back and forth, his arms behind his back as he spoke. It felt like atoning for his sins. "I poisoned her. I almost killed her."

Interrupting, his voice utterly horrified, TC exclaimed, "That was Painkiller, not you!"

"Yeah, but don't you get it? He's in me, so even if I know that I'm not the one doing the poisoning, everyone else thinks it, because he's in my head wanting to kill all the time." Khalil stopped pacing and turned to TC, his face serious. "With the kill code gone, we can co-exist without the anger and rage that drives Painkiller. I came here for a fresh start and removing the memories of the Pierces will give me that." To show that he meant business, he clapped his hands together. "Let's do this. How's it gonna work?"

Getting back to business removed the pity from TC's face, and Khalil was glad. Seeing that look on his normally cheery friends face and knowing it was directed at him made him feel like even more of a shitty person.

Tapping his chin, Khalil asked, "So I won't remember that they're metas as well?"

"You'll forget about them. Anything related to them, too."

TC's eyes started to flash green as he went over the logistics of changing Khalil's life.

"No, you'll remember that, you'll know about Black Lightning, Thunder and Lightning, you just won't know their identities. You won't remember they're Pierces."

Nodding, Khalil said, "Got it." Actually, it sounded confusing to him, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. "But if I want to reinstate my memories, can't I just come to you and-."

TC laughed as Khalil made a casual popping noise with his tongue in his cheek. "No. You won't even know that your memories are gone."

"And you're sure they'll stay gone."

This was the most important part. What ifs ran through Khalil's mind with the speed of a Formula One car. If he somehow ran into the Pierce sisters on vacation. If he helped someone from a mugger and it turned out to be Doctor Pierce? If Black Lightning ended up in Akashic Valley like Anissa had and they ran into each other?

Shifting from one foot to the other, TC said, "Um, 90% sure."

"90?" Khalil asked incredulously.

TC shrugged. "That's an A."

"I used to get straight A's in school," Khalil said musingly. "And then Odell dropped a few Master's degrees into my head, but that happened after I stopped caring about grades." TC gave him a confused, yet concerned look, and Khalil said, "Let's get rid of these memories."

A few minutes later, Khalil was lying on an operating table, a brain scanner that looked like a crown on his head. Philky just happened to have one lying around, which was pure Philky, and after TC had uploaded his program into the lab's computer, he'd told Khalil's master of tech exactly what to do. Donald was on standby in case something went wrong medically. And Painkiller? He was still in the dojo, and Khalil could feel the excitement thrumming through him. Khalil didn't blame him; he was excited too.

A high-pitched whine started up, and Khalil felt a pinprick of electricity tickle his forehead as the process started. TC had warned him about this.

What TC hadn't warned him about was, as the memories left, they replayed in his head, almost like a flashback reel.

Khalil saw himself on the Pierce roof with Jen, giving her a chaste, shy kiss as she agreed to be his girlfriend.

He saw himself stealing into Garfield High and meeting up with Jen by the lockers after enduring more abuse from Tobias, knowing that she was the only person he could really talk to despite what had gone down between them. Sitting down in silence, not needing to say a word because their connection was that powerful.

He saw them running away together, Jen using her lightning powers in front of him for the first time and blasting the 100 hoodlums. How he'd kissed her later on and it had been electric, and the hottest kiss he'd ever had.

He saw himself (the memories were blurry around the edges, soon they'd be gone but so would the kill code, it was for the best but it hurt, TC didn't say it would hurt this much) sitting next to Jen in his special place, his private place, his favorite place, the abandoned subway car, eating ramen and reminiscing on how he had asked her to be his girlfriend, and he had been so shy when he gave her the necklace, something that had caught his eye in Freeland's jewelry store and he'd saved up for two months to buy it for her, a necklace he was giving to her for the second time because he loved her, and he'd lost her once and wasn't about to let her go again and...

The memories faded as Khalil's mind cycled through the deepest, darkest levels of consciousness, and there was only darkness, and finally, blissfully, peace.

(See more on ao3 or wattpad!)

#black lightning #fanfic #khalil payne #jennifer pierce #jordan calloway #china anne mcclain #wattpad #ao3fic

[monsoonblooms12]

Detectives by Chance: Chapter 8- The Final Bow

Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?

A/N: This is the end. The end of the first ever series, the first ever fanfics I ever wrote. It's melancholic you know? Bidding adieu to Open Heart and Detectives by Chance all at one? Anywho, I hope you enjoy this piece💕

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Rating: Teen (to be safe)

Warnings: Blood, Murder, Swear Words, Gun Violence

I would recommend reading the previous parts first, because I am sure this makes little sense without knowing what happened previously.

Read the previous chapters here!

The trail from the crumpled door to the back ground felt likes hours of navigating through the blazing desert, no one in sight.

The scarlet memoirs of the wounds that now covered her skin did not give her much relief either. Blood soaked into her shirt, colouring it red from cream at a steady rate. Lazy tracks formed as solitary drops slipped down to meet the ground.

Papers clutched with a death grip, her resolve did not waver. After all the goose chase she had done in the manor, she was sure she could do this. But then again, there was not much of a choice there.

Ethan's POV:

A hazy screen appeared before his orbs as they slowly, timidly, fluttered open, as if scared to look around. A blackness had spread around him, and his mind could not make out if it was a musty old dungeon or some place else.

Soft scents of the intoxicating vanilla and bluebell perfume gently let him know of their presence, and he sighed in relief.

Wherever he was, he was close to her.

And with that knowledge came a subtle sense of calm, a realization that as long as he was near her, he wouldn't mind even dying.

He just wanted her, his strength, with him.

He tried to get up, and the wince of pain came almost immediately. His legs ached due to the cramped position in the short space of wherever. As he managed to pull himself up from the sleeping position, a very faint jingle of keys could be heard in the background of his groans.

Then with a click, the front door flew open and he unclearly made out a thud of some kind of folder in the front passenger seat. Soon the driver's seat was occupied as well, and the engine was raved to life.

The scent of vanilla and bluebell grew strong and he knew it was her.

"Pooja?" He whispered so lightly that for a second he wondered if he had even spoken it aloud.

"Ethan! Oh thank fucking god you are- Ah!" She was cutoff mid sentence by a horrifying but muted shriek which had escaped as she tried to close the door.

"Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" Worry laced his tone as her other hand painfully completed the supposedly easy task.

"You are okay and I've everything we need to save Lex & Mark. That's all that matters, E."

"What about you?"

But her attention had already shifted to the driving the automobile. She had always been like that, too unconcerned about herself. As well as he knew her, he was sure she had been biting her lip a tad bit harder with every moment just to keep painful screams at bay.

"It doesn't matter."

A shrill roar suddenly invaded the eerie, uncomfortable silence of the abandoned area. The voice was human, but the intensity of the sound reminded them more of an enraged tiger trapped in a cage, ready to pounce at the chance of freedom.

Staying here for a second more could be a dangerous idea.

A slow pain spread though his forehead, an after-effect of whatever that was forcefully injected during his investigation of the murky place, too dishevelled to call it even an office, let alone a hospital. The ache became all-too-consuming, his struggle to keep his eyes open turning futile. The blackness grasped him steadily as consciousness bid adieu and the dangers of the world in front of him, at bay.

End of Ethan's POV

Pooja's clutch on the steering wheel was so hard that the fingernails that dug into its material left deep moon shaped indents, as a mark of their visit. The teeth pressed so deep into her lip that it had drawn blood. The gap of the missing tooth felt like an aftermath of the reckless rescue operations she had led at the building.

Why did her mind refused to cooperate with her now, when she had finally made her way out?

Another line of thought began to form, but before it spread it's being, a second horrifying scream broke through the audible silence like a dagger.

Sweat of hardwork was now the cold sweat of fear. A sense of great danger that lingered now completely flooded every chamber of her heart & she refused to stop.

Digging her teeth into her lips, tears streaming as every movement made her want to shriek and wail in agony, she revved the engine, turned the steering & fled out of there.

————————————

A rash drive followed. She sped through the roads, going straight without a turn until she was sure the they were not being followed.

A safe distance away, she stopped. Every moment was precious now, but she was done. She could not do this anymore.

Hell, she could not do anything anymore.

The left portion of her shirt that she wore was now soaked in scarlet, the stench of blood growing on her. She doubted that if she wasn't a doctor, she would have thrown up or passed out by now.

Pooja looked behind, the scarce daylight making it a difficult job to be done. She was quite sure that Ethan had been overcome by another bout of unconsciousness and the feeling of helplessness spread through her chest, forming a hollow through its path.

Her head felt light too. The injuries were starting to show effects, although the overwhelming sense of failure and danger had already numbed their pain.

Taking a deep breath, and another, and another, she tried to centre herself, though not to much avail.

Something she had realized was now, the necessity to keep moving was a need & not a want.

A slow kick on the gas pedal & she carried on her journey to the final destination.

————————————

At the police station, the unfolding of events occurred like a film sequence set on fast forward.

Pooja had barely made it there, an urgency ringing through her mind, a constant worry that she was late, too late. But thankfully, she wasn't.

Dragging her foot (her entire body, at this point) she entered and almost fell face down on the station floor.

Hastily handing over the evidence she had meticulously collected and suffered all the injuries for, she tried to explain what she had found.

Officers repeatedly asked her to calm down, but she refused. The three of them, Ethan, Alex and Mark, They were her family. They always mattered more than her. They always will.

At last, all she managed was to point a finger at her car, before her body gave up on the fight. A small smile of satisfaction decorated her tired, overworked features. It was a win. A well deserved one. A strange sense of pride, overwhelmed her as she slowly faded into unconsciousness.

————————————

It has been 36 hours since the ghastly raid of Miles's manor.

The evidence collected opened a lot of tied knots, the page from Miles's diary, even though muddy, serving priceless for the investigation. Almost everything got crystal clear from it.

Pooja underwent a major surgery, and was still under bedrest. Minor to Major, there were a plethora of injuries that needed to be treated. Recovery was going to take a long time but her response had been up to the mark.

As for Mark and Alex, the court deemed them not guilty for any of the charges made against them & they were released. The very instant they rushed to the hospital, tears streaming down endlessly both in gratitude & in worry.

Miles Danvers, as expected, was not found. The manor was investigated after the release of Mark & Alex, a big mistake, and nothing was left behind except a few beeping machines & broken furniture. The investigators now await Pooja's recovery for interrogation & to close the case as soon as possible because stories of a deranged murderer roaming around the dark streets doesn't exactly spark a rush of serotonin through the citizens.

Meanwhile in a dark, gloomy alleyway:

It had been seconds too long. The man's pace faltered at slightest sounds, fingers fidgeting the two ring that shone under whatever little light reached the area.

Why were they not here yet?

But his wait was cut off soon. Muffled footsteps echoed like, every step closer increasing their intensity. Even though he had been expecting them, his heart leapt up his throat, which tightened in fear.

He turned around, not being able to make out their faces. But at the time, he found it to be a blessing in disguise, because he was sure he would have thrown up from the fright of being the cause of their anger.

A hand extended out, the silver bracelet dangling from it gleaming in moonlight. It gripped the lapel of his coat, and a scared murmur escaped him without caution.

The person on the other side, let out a slow growl of rage, boiling blood coursing through their veins. The man's teeth chattered, the cold pressing against his skin even more as a chill ran down his spine.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, the touch of cold metal against his neck made him shudder.

It was... It was a gun.

"Thi..s, Th..., This w-was not what, w-what we plann-nned upon." He quietly muttered, shocked that sound still escaped through the dryness of his throat.

"What were you supposed to do?" The person, no, the man, That man, growled, the evil of his heart almost visible in the spoken words.

The man stood soundless. It took two hard knocks of the metal to make him speak.

"K-K-Kill"

"And what did you do? Let her escape with a bagful of evidence." The words were being hissed now, with so much intensity that the man was surprised that he hadn't peed his pants yet.

"And since" The gun was displaced and he let out a sigh of relief. "You did such wonderful work, you deserve to be rewarded."

And before the man could even process what just happened, a single shot pierced through the fog settling around, and hit right in the forehead.

Seconds later, his lifeless body met its origin & any sign of life in the alleyway seized to exist.

End Note: Open Heart ended and it feels unreal. I have had a weird, wonderful journey with it. I would have never come to tumblr, make edits or write fanfics if not for it. It is a series which many of us, me included, hold close to our heart.

Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who provided their precious thoughts over the past chapters of this series. I always have & always will hold Detectives by Chance close to my heart, because it has some of my earliest fanfics & it was the beginning of a wonderful journey for me. So if you took your time & have followed this story from the start, I am so very grateful for you. Thank you❤

With OH ending, many have chosen to continue in this fandom & some have decided to move on. Whatever your decision may be, I hope you be happy & have a good time ahead💕

Detectives by Chance gets a Bonus part, with no relation to the storyline, like not an epilogue, but something that will answer the lingering questions. As for if this is really the end of DbC or not, I will let you guys decide that😉

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @helloayz

Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010

Ethan x Pooja (fics): @aleynareads @stygianflood @choicesaddict5 @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#pixelberry choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #open heart #choices stories we play #choices #choices open heart #choices oh #my fanfics✒ #pixelberry #pixelberry studios #open heart mc #open heart oc #open heart ethan #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan x pooja #pooja sharma #oh mc #oh ethan #oph choices

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE PROPOSITION ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Chapter Three, final. Index.

Request #1: Hola! Angel asking for Felipe to have Marisol's ring cause he went to propose to his girlfriend. But Felipe says No cause he thinks EZ deserve its more. ( And cause WE know he love EZ more ) So Angel is like " Fuck this shit" And either is breaks in Felipe house to steal this ring Or Either he go brought the biggest and perfect ring ! 🤩

BY ANON

Request #2: Hey! Angel do something very impressive for his girlfriend ( like big and impressive asking for marriage or Travel 5 states just for see her) and this ending by Felipe being very impressive by his Sons and take conscience he is a bad dad for Angel. 🙏❤️🤟🤟

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @pantherclawz

Masterlist.

Almost one week without hearing his voice. Receiving one or two text messages per day, just to tell you that he's tired or that he's working. You know he is hiding something, confirming your suspicion when EZ began to decline all your calls. And, when you talked with Felipe three days ago, the only thing he told you was that he didn't know anything about his kids. So you started to think the worst. At first you thought that maybe Angel had an accident and his brother was trying to cover him, but when you called Bishop this morning, you heard your boyfriend's voice saying that he was ‘going to pick up the girl’. And now, you don't know what to think.

Licking your lips, sitting in the back garden of the house, you play with your phone between your fingers. It's almost midnight and it's a little cold outside, wearing nothing but an Angel's shirt. You decide to call him again, but it's his voicemail who answers again, even if you shouldn't be doing it after drinking too many beers, while your friends are sleeping and resting for the last seminar the next morning. But you wait for the last tone.

“Hey, it's me… your girlfriend, remember? I've been calling you… I don' know, maybe the fucking whole day. Where the fuck are you, Angel? And don't you fucking dare to tell me that you were working, 'cause I heard you this morning talking about some bitch to pick up. But fo' say something, first you have to answer the fucking phone!”

Sounds pathetic the way you are talking to him, saying all the things that you wouldn't say to him being sober. Hiccuping, you find yourself crying unconsolable, with an agonic pain oppressing your chest and squeezing your heart.

“Just… two fucking weeks, Angel! You couldn' keep your fucking dick inside your pants, for two fucking weeks! Is that the… shit I mean to you? Two years thrown overboard because of what? How many times have you done it, ah? All these… shit about not calling during a run… were you doing the same shit, Angel? How many fucking times has you betrayed me?!”

You can't help but laugh bitterly, cleaning your tears with the back of your hand, trying to calm yourself and to not wake up anyone.

“I fucking love you… with all my heart. I didn' complain about anything, never…” Although your voice sounds low and a little bit calmed, inside you there's a storm devastating you. “I put you first, always, since the first moment I met you… I can't fucking believe you're gonna lea—leave me and… the way you're doing it… I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong”.

Hardly sniffing, you close your eyes letting go everything inside your chest, before finishing the message. Curling up your legs to surround them with both arms, you rest your chin over your knees. You can't avoid thinking about all those times he has promised you a future together, living in a big house and having children. Or about all those times he has been crying clinged to you, talking about how his father has been always putting him apart. You have cared about him more than anyone in his life. You have given him all. Without asking anything back, more than loyalty. And you wouldn't even have to ask for it.

Even so, you're starting to regret all the things you have said, without knowing if it's true or not. But how are you going to find it out, if anyone says nothing?

“Oh, shit… Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Angel is sitting on top of his bike, with a hand holding his phone and the other rubbing the bridge of his nose.

His brothers are looking at all the gestures that he's drawing unconsciously on his face. Rage, sadness, incredulous… When the message ends, he lies down over the handerball, softly hitting his head against it. He tries to call you, but your phone is practically dead, off of battery. Bishop walks towards him, having a sip from his beer.

“All good, Angel?”

“She thinks I'm fucking cheating her, because he heard me say about picking up Leti, this morning”. Stepping out from his motorcycle, he looks for Tori's number, hoping she answers the call.

Walking around the parking like a locked lion in the zoo, he's starting to think about driving right now to Los Angeles.

“The hell is wrong with you, shithead?” The female voice sounds tired, being interrupted by a long yawn.

“Tori, listen. Find (Y/N). She's drunk, thinking I'm cheating on her”.

“Yeah, 'cause you have been ignoring her ass”.

“I've been workin—”.

“Nah, c'mon, Angel. Tell these tales to someone wh—”.

“I was working to buy a wedding ring”.

Silence. Tori suddenly sits up on her bed, turning on the lights and waking up Sarah. The girl who was sleeping peacefully, now is being woken up by shaking her left arm. Having some growls as response, she looks at her girlfriend frowning, while she hears Angel's voice through the speaker.

“Just listen, please. Calm her down, okay? 'Am coming tomorrow to LA. I already talked to your boss and I can't tell you anything else. Just… calm her down, please”.

“Okay, we got this, Angel”.

Hanging up the call, both girls jump off from the bed, walking towards your room. Empty. But following your crying, they stick out their heads by the window, finding you in the garden. This hurts them too. They were with you the night you met Angel, and they also love him a lot. They know how much he cares about you and even if Sarah and Tori couldn't believe that he was with another girl, it wasn't normal his way to act the last days. But now, everything has sense, and they are pretty excited to see him tomorrow and discover what he has been preparing for the proposition.

Going downstairs and trying to hide their happiness, your friends sit by each side to hug you. A collective hug to make you feel somewhat better, but you can't stop crying.

“Baby… what's up?” Tori asks, caressing gently your hair.

“This… fucking bastard… I fucking gave him all, the best of me!”

“You talkin' 'bout Angel? C'mon, (Y/N)! He told you he made the most of his time to work a little more, and not miss you. Two weeks is too much time for you both”.

“I heard him talking about another girl”.

“So, what? Since when he can't have friends, ah? I have slept with him at his house… hundred times, and that doesn't mean that I cheated Tori, or he cheated you. And believe me, your boyfriend is a fantasy even for me”. Sarah says, making you chuckle in some way. “I'm sure he has been working hard, as you do when he is traveling. So, don't think any bullshit about Angel. He loves you more than anything, okay?”

“Let's go to bed, okay, honey? We have to be awake in five hours for a long, long, long seminar. Lucky it's the last one”. Tori says standing up on her feet, helping you to get up from the grass.

Angel comes into the clubhouse with an excited smile on his lips, like a child on Christmas Day, rubbing his hands and clapping happily calling everybody's attention.

“You got it, hermano?”

He nods energetically, walking fast to the main round table, where the oldest were waiting for him to come back from the jewelers. The Reyes tucks a hand inside his pocket in complete silence, putting over the wood a small red velvet box. Between his fingers, he supports the bottom part to open the top, showing the ring for what he has been working too hard the last two weeks; without sleeping, without resting, without a drop of alcohol, without partying. Nothing. Just working hard. The fine gold ring is perfectly resting inside a small gap, showing only the top of it. A king's crown with a diamond in it, that shines so easily with natural light that could illuminate a whole room. The crew is looking at it fascinated. And yes, the ring couldn't be perfect, but it's the feeling of pride for Angel that makes them smile.

“Fuck, brother… If she doesn' want to marry you, I will”. Creeper is captivated by the jewel, with his eyes fixed on.

“Why the fuck she wouldn't want to marry me, dumbshit?”

“Ignore him, carnal”. Coco palms his back, resting his arm on a shoulder.

“So, what you say, ah?” He asks, anxious to hear Bishop, Tranq and Taza's opinion. Without them, it couldn't be possible.

“Fuck, man, I would marry you too if you propose me with this ring”. Che is the first one, taking the step to grab the small box and have a closed look from it.

“You did a good job, Angel. You deserve it”. Tranq just says with both arms on the table.

“Prez?”

Bishop keeps looking at the box, seeming thoughtful, slowly raising his eyes to the others after some seconds in silence.

“I think you are doing the right thing for the first time since I know you. That girl deserves a man like you, Angel. And I know she is not the kind of woman who would care about the ring, but you found the perfect one”.

Your boyfriend can't feel more proud. It would be impossible.

“Go change your clothes, you have four hours of road ahead”. El Presidente places a hand on Angel's nape with a soft narrow over it.

He just nods, keeping again the box inside a pocket to get up and leave the place to his dorm, where he has been sleeping the last two weeks. The black jeans and the white shirt are perfectly stretched over his bed. The Reyes hurries up to have a shower, not wasting a second more, brushing and doing his hair with trembling fingers. He hasn't known anything about you since he talked with Tori and Sarah some hours ago, hoping that they finally calmed you down and got you rid of those ideas about him cheating you. When he's already dressed, sitting on the edge of the mattress to put on his boots, Angel grabs the black bomber jacket trespassing the box from a piece of clothing to the other, zipping the pocket to not lose it.

Coming back to the main room of the clubhouse, his brothers receive him between whistles and cheers.

“Man, you smell good”. Coco says coming too close.

“Ah, ah. Take care, brother. Don't want you to stain my fresh clothes”. He says taking a step back.

“My apologies, your grace”. He chuckles.

“Bishop?”

“Templo”. Taza says having a sip from a coffee.

Checking the hour on his phone, assuring himself that he has enough time, the Reyes leads his steps to the meeting-room, closing the glass colorful door behind him.

“Already leaving?”

“Yeah, prez, I just… want to thank you for giving me the three k left. I will continue working to gi—”.

“Take it as a wedding gift”. The mexican stops him with his own words, shaking his head and making a light gesture with a hand.

“I couldn't do it without you, Tranq and Taza”.

“I heard what you told to your brother. In the office”. He says then, lying back on his chair. “I am not going to… give you my opinion about your father, but he shouldn't behave like that, Angel”.

“I know, Bishop. And… I would thank you for not telling anything about it to (Y/N). She loves my pops”.

“That honors you”.

“Don't know, but I don't wanna be like him”.

El Presidente simply nods.

“Bring back Mrs. Reyes”.

Your head hurts like hell, having to use your glasses because of the blurry gaze you have got by the hangover. The seminar is turning out eternal. The last thing you care about right now is how to operate with an open heart, you have already done it and you could skip this part. But it's for compulsory attendance. So there you are, drawing nothing on your iPad as if you were taking notes, fighting against the pain, the tiredness and the uncertainty about Angel. He continues not answering your text or calls, and you can't help but think about what Sarah told you last night.

“... you for coming, and I hope that these two weeks have been productive for your learning”.

The claps flood the conference room, while the other doctors begin to pick up their stuff and finally leave the place. You can't believe that it's already done and that you're allowed to come back home, checking again your muttered phone expecting to find something. But the notifications bar is empty.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you don't mind, I'm going to steal you a couple minutes. Sit back, please”. The voice of your boss through the speakers makes you raise an eyebrow.

“The desire to be noticed by that man fucks me up”. Tori chuckles with a low tone, sitting again over her seat.

“I know that we all are tired, but it's just going to be a couple minutes, I promise. I just want to help a friend”.

“No…” Sarah looks at her girlfriend really surprised, making you frown confused.

“Girls, the fuck you did?”

“You just… enjoy the show, my dear”.

You can see your boss making a gesture to someone by a side of the stage, to come closer. But when your eyes find Angel walking over it, your blood freezes and your heart stops. Lucky you're between almost more than two hundred doctors and surgeons. Leo gives up the micro to your boyfriend, looking for you. And obviously, your two friends start to yell like crazy to call his attention.

“Hey, ahm… You don't know me and I don't know you, but… I'm Angel. Dr. (Y/L/N)'s boyfriend and I came to… give her an important message”. He says with a nervous tone, before smirking at you, clearing his throat. “Hey, baby, can you… can you come here, please?”

“Go”. Your friends push you to get up, but your legs feel like butter about to fall downstairs.

As soon as he's able to hug you, he does, not caring about the claps from the people in front of you.

“Okay, okay, listen”. Holding one of your hands and pulling himself away, he laughs a little bit nervous for a second. “We met two years ago, in the middle of nowhere. I was fuc— sorry. I was hurt because of a fight. And you fixed up my wounds with so much love, patience and care, that I fell for you”.

“Angel…”

“Sh, listen. I think I'm going to have a heart attack, so let me talk before falter to the floor. Listen, you have been my best friend, my anchor, my reason to live since then. I love you more than I could ever love anyone... I can't live without you, baby. And before you say anything else like last night, no. I didn't try and I'm not going to do it, because I'm lost without you, (Y/N). So, ahm… Hey, boss, can you hold the mic'?” Turning to Leo, the man takes it back.

You're trembling, looking at your friends for a moment trying to find an explanation. But when your gaze is again on your boyfriend, he's already kneeling with a hand inside a pocket grabbing something. A small red box. And you can't believe what's happening. Taking a step back and covering your face with both hands, you start to cry like a child, with your pulse racing under your skin.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you marry me?”

The crew is waiting anxiously at the porch, after not receiving any news back from LA. But they all get up from their seats on the sofas and the stairs, when they hear Coco's car being driven by Angel coming closer. As soon as he parks it close to the bikes, not finding you on the passenger seat and looking at the devastated gesture on his face, they know that the proposition wasn't as they were expecting. Stepping out of the car, he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Hey, carnal, it's okay. She will reconsider it”. Coco says hugging his friend, trying to comfort him.

“She will say yes, Angel, don't give up”. Bishop palms softly his nape.

And you are drowning in laughs hidden on the floor of the back seats. Looking slightly through the window, you find the crew very affected because supposedly you said ‘no’. Taking some air, you jump out of the car yelling with a huge smile on your lips.

“Surprise, madafakas!”

“Jesus fucking Christ! I'm too old for these frights!” Taza shouts at you back, indignant with a hand on his chest barely breathing.

“I'm confused”. Gilly says from nowhere.

“What? Doesn't sound good Mrs. Reyes for you?” Walking towards them, raising the hand with the amazing ring, they all look surprised.

“I'm going to fucking shoot you, Angel”. Bishop threats him, before leading his steps to yours. “Welcome home, querida”.

“Thank you”. Hugging him, you rest your head against his chest. “Angel told me you help him”.

“It was nothing, kid”. Clicking his tongue and pulling himself away, he caresses your cheek for a second.

“Yo! Mami! You look stunning now that you're engaged”. Coco lifts you up between his arms, narrowing you under his grip.

“Yeah, you see?!”

“Hey, hey, social distancing”. Your future husband takes you off from his friend's hands, to hold you closer with an arm surrounding your neck.

“Look at you, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes”. Creeper says very proud, nodding in accordance.

“Let's celebrate it that you didn' kick my ass, mi dulce”.

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