#‘I can fix the system from the inside!’

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Five

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: 2 more chapters to go!

Masterlist: Here

The courthouse doors slammed behind you as you stepped into the empty hallway, your chest heavy with grief. The weight of the decision still hung in the air, pressing down on you like an unbearable burden. Ward had won. He had won Willa.

Your heart was a storm of emotions: fury, betrayal, hopelessness. You had tried so hard. You had fought for Willa, for Sarah and John B., to give her the life they would’ve wanted. But it wasn’t enough. In the end, the system didn’t care. The judge didn’t care. No one cared.

You found yourself sinking against the cold marble wall, your body trembling with the overwhelming sense of failure. You had promised Sarah you would look after Willa, that you would protect her. And now, in a single blow, it felt like you’d lost her.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and before you knew it, a sob broke free. The grief, the exhaustion, the helplessness—all of it hit you like a tidal wave. You buried your face in your hands, trying to steady yourself, but it felt like everything was slipping through your fingers.

And then you heard him.

Rafe’s footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you didn’t even have to look up to know it was him. He didn’t need to say anything at first—he simply crouched beside you, his hand reaching out to gently pull yours away from your face. His eyes, red-rimmed and brimming with pain, met yours.

“I... I don’t know what to do, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I promised Sarah and John B. that I would protect her, that I would keep her safe. And I failed them. I failed her.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his own pain etched across his face, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached over, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the storm of grief swirling around you both.

He didn’t say anything for a long while. The only sound between you was the occasional shaky breath, the quiet sobs that escaped without warning. But then, Rafe spoke in a voice that barely reached above a whisper.

“You didn’t fail her,” he said, his voice raw. “You fought like hell for her. We both did. We’ve still got a chance to fix this. We’re not done yet.”

You pulled away slightly, looking up at him, trying to see some trace of hope in his eyes, but all you saw was the same frustration, the same loss that mirrored your own.

“I don’t know how we can fight this anymore. Ward’s got everything on his side. He’s won... and I don’t know what to do, Rafe.” You shook your head, feeling the tears come again. “I just want her back. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Rafe’s hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle despite the storm brewing inside of him. His eyes softened as he gazed at you, and you saw something there—a kind of resolve you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m not letting her go, [Y/N]. I’m not,” he said fiercely, his voice trembling. “I’m not giving up on her.”

You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. You needed to hear that. You needed to believe it.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “But how? How do we stop Ward?”

Rafe was quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting away as if he was piecing together a plan in his head. His brow furrowed, and you could almost see the wheels turning. Then, his gaze locked onto yours once more, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

“We take it back to court,” Rafe said, his voice steadying with determination. “We find a way to show that Ward’s not fit to raise her. That we are the ones who should be raising her, not him.”

“Rafe,” you said slowly, your mind racing. “How do we do that? We can’t just... ask for a new judge or something.”

Rafe stood up, pacing back and forth as he thought. You watched him, waiting for him to finish putting the pieces together. He was quiet for a moment, then stopped in front of you, a glint of determination flashing in his eyes.

“We need evidence,” he said, his voice hardening with resolve. “We need proof of what he’s done. All the times he’s hurt us, hurt Sarah, hurt me. All of it. If we can show the court that he’s dangerous, that he’s unfit to care for Willa, we have a shot at getting her back.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Rafe’s words settled in. You knew what this meant. You knew the kind of things Ward had done. The abuse. The manipulation. But it had always been buried under layers of lies and secrecy. It was the one thing that had kept Ward in power for so long.

“You really think we can do that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe’s gaze softened, but the fire in his eyes didn’t flicker. “I know we can. We’ve got to fight for her. We’ve got to fight for Sarah and John B. We owe it to them.”

You stood up, wiping your eyes, feeling a spark of something in your chest—a glimmer of hope, the first you’d felt in weeks.

“Okay,” you said, your voice steadier now. “Let’s do it. We’re not giving up. We’ll fight him.”

Rafe smiled slightly, though it was tinged with sadness. He reached out, pulling you into a tight hug, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There was only the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The grief was still there, weighing heavily on both of you, but now, there was a plan. A way forward.

“We’ll get her back, [Y/N]. I promise.”

And for the first time since the hearing, you believed him.

Together, you’d fight for Willa. You’d fight for Sarah and John B. And this time, you wouldn’t lose.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It was late into the night when you and Rafe began mapping out your plan. The house was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional murmur of Willa's soft breaths from her room. Rafe sat across from you at the kitchen table, the dim light above casting shadows across his face as he tapped his fingers on the surface, his thoughts clearly miles away.

You, too, were deep in thought, mentally piecing together everything you knew about Ward, everything you had endured growing up in the Cameron household. The years of his emotional and physical abuse. The fights. The silence that followed each blow.

You felt sick just thinking about it, but you couldn’t stop. You had to. This was the only way forward. If you were going to keep Willa safe, you had to make Ward’s past a part of the case, even if it meant digging into old wounds.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, staring at the open folder on the table in front of you. It was filled with legal documents and notes from your lawyer, a roadmap for how to fight back. But it felt impossible—too big a task, too much to uncover.

Rafe leaned forward, his face tense, but his eyes were determined. “We have to, [Y/N]. We can’t let him get away with it anymore. For Willa. For Sarah.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being. The weight of Sarah’s death had been unbearable for both of you. But now it was more than just grief. It was about keeping Willa safe, keeping her away from the monster that had shaped so much of their lives.

“We need proof,” Rafe continued, glancing at the stack of papers. “We need to find something. Anything.”

You nodded, your mind already racing. You knew that Ward’s past was buried in the same place as all his lies and manipulations. His anger had always been a weapon—aimed at Sarah, at Rafe, and even at you when you had been younger. There had to be something—some record, some shred of truth that you could use to show the world just who Ward really was.

“Do you have anything?” you asked, looking at Rafe.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze distant. “I know a few things,” he admitted quietly. “But they’re not enough. Not on their own.”

You sat back in your chair, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in your chest. “What do you mean?”

Rafe leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. “I remember... there were moments. When I was a kid. I overheard things. Conversations. There were times when Sarah would—she’d try to protect me, try to shield me from Ward’s anger. But there were... documents. Letters. Things that could prove how he manipulated everything.”

You felt a chill spread over you, a sense of urgency taking over. “Where are they? Can we find them?”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, and he looked down at his hands. “They’re in the attic. A box of stuff that Sarah and I hid. I don’t know exactly what’s in it, but I remember Sarah saying she didn’t want Ward ever getting his hands on them.”

Your heart raced as a plan started to form in your mind. "We need to go through it, Rafe. Everything we can find. We need to dig through all of it."

He nodded, his jaw tight with determination. “I’ll go through it. I’ll find it.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The following morning, Rafe and you set out for the attic. It felt surreal as you made your way up the stairs to the small, cluttered space that held so many memories—memories of a past neither you nor Rafe had wanted to confront, but knew you had no choice but to face now.

Dust filled the air as Rafe opened the attic door, the wooden steps creaking under your weight as you followed him up. The space was cramped, boxes piled high, old furniture tucked away, things discarded and forgotten. You could smell the mustiness of years gone by, but there was no time to linger. No time to let the memories flood you.

Rafe began to dig through the boxes, pulling out old papers, photos, and forgotten trinkets that had once meant something to Sarah and him. You watched him closely, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable. He was doing this for her—doing this for Willa.

After a few moments, Rafe paused, his fingers brushing against something wedged behind a dusty old coat. He pulled out a small, weathered cardboard box, the tape on the sides barely holding it together.

“This is it,” Rafe murmured. He opened it cautiously, as if he expected something to jump out at him. You peered over his shoulder, trying to calm the pounding in your chest. Inside, you saw a tangle of old photographs and folders—records from the past that, hopefully, would be the key to winning Willa’s custody.

Rafe pulled out a folder first, his fingers trembling as he flipped it open. Inside, there were handwritten letters—letters that Rafe had clearly never meant to read, written in Sarah’s handwriting, detailing arguments, moments of fear, and Sarah’s attempts to escape their father’s control.

“I knew it,” Rafe muttered, his eyes scanning the pages. “Sarah... she tried so hard to protect us from him.”

You felt a lump in your throat as you read over his shoulder. The letters were raw, emotional, detailing Ward’s abusive behavior—his temper, his verbal cruelty, his violence. There were accounts of physical injuries Sarah had tried to hide from the world, and she’d written about the times Ward had hurt both of them, though she never named it outright. She’d tried to find ways to escape him, even at a young age.

“This is what we needed,” you said softly, a feeling of relief flooding through you. “This is it, Rafe. This is proof. We can use this.”

Rafe stared down at the letters, his eyes glossy. He didn’t speak for a moment, and the weight of everything he had lived through—everything you were now uncovering—seemed to press down on him.

“I never wanted her to know,” Rafe whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted Willa to go through what we went through. I thought I was protecting her by keeping her away from all this.” He swallowed hard, his voice barely audible. “But we can’t keep running from it. If we want to win this, we need the truth.”

You nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his. “You didn’t fail, Rafe. You’re doing everything you can for her. We’ll make sure she’s safe. We’ll make sure Ward doesn’t win.”

Rafe exhaled deeply, looking at the papers in his hands. “We’ll do whatever it takes. We’re not losing her.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed him.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The attic felt smaller as the hours passed, the musty air thick with the weight of the secrets it held. You sat beside Rafe on the dusty floor, the pile of evidence between you growing larger. Letters. Photographs. Police reports. Even old school records. It was all beginning to paint a picture of a man no one ever truly understood—the man who had shaped Sarah, Rafe, and their entire childhood.

You flipped through a few more papers, the words on the pages starting to blur as your emotions overwhelmed you. There were times Sarah had begged to be seen, to be heard, and each word you read was like another stab to your heart.

“God…” you whispered, your hand trembling as you gripped the edge of a photo. It was one of Sarah, just a child, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The darkness that had been lurking in the background of their lives, the abuse they had endured, was so clear now. It wasn’t something you’d seen before—perhaps because you hadn’t wanted to see it. But now, as the layers were peeled back, the reality hit you like a flood.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Rafe’s voice cut through the silence, soft and gentle. “Hey, you okay?”

You blinked and wiped at your eyes, trying to keep it together. But the tears didn’t stop. “How could he do this to her?” Your voice cracked as you looked down at the photograph. “How could he hurt them like this? How could he… do this to you?”

Rafe was silent for a long moment, and you felt him shift beside you. You could feel the heat of his body, the tension in his muscles, the quiet grief that hung in the air like a thick fog.

You turned to look at him, catching him staring at you, his eyes shadowed with pain. The walls he had built around himself were always so thick—so hard to penetrate. But now, in this moment, with all the pieces of the past laid bare, the mask he wore seemed to crack just enough to let you see the real him.

“I’m sorry you had to see all this,” he said quietly, his voice heavy. “You didn’t deserve to know the ugliness of it.”

Your chest tightened. “No, I needed to know. I need to understand.”

Rafe took a deep breath, rubbing his hand across his face. His shoulders slumped, and for the first time since you’d met him, you saw a man who wasn’t just the spoiled, angry son of a cruel father. You saw a man who had been broken by his past, a man who had been fighting every day to prove he wasn’t his father. But in his search for redemption, he’d never realized that the hardest thing to do was forgive himself.

“I know I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of,” Rafe muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t... I didn’t want to be like him. I never wanted to be like him. I was just... trying to survive. Trying to protect Sarah, protect myself.”

You swallowed hard, your heart aching for him. You had always seen the worst in him, the ways he lashed out, the cruelty that sometimes bled through. But now, as you sat there with him, you understood. You understood that his anger, his rebellion, was just a defense mechanism. A mask for the hurt he carried, the fear that had been instilled in him from a young age.

“Rafe…” Your voice trembled as you reached out, placing a hand over his. “You’ve done so much for her. For Willa. You’re not like him. Not in any way. You’re more than what he said you were. More than anyone ever saw.”

The words were barely out of your mouth when you saw something flicker in his eyes. Vulnerability. Pain. A need for validation. For the first time, you realized just how much he needed to hear that. Needed someone to see him for who he truly was.

Rafe leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest against yours, his breath shallow and uneven. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything hanging between you. His hand, warm and slightly trembling, cupped the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin there. You could feel the electricity between you, the way his body tensed, the way you both seemed to exist in this moment where everything else faded away.

And then, as if something snapped, you moved without thinking. Your lips found his in a soft, tentative kiss—a kiss that was born from shared grief, from the fragile hope that had flickered between the two of you ever since you had started this journey together. It was a kiss full of longing, of understanding, of something neither of you had been ready to admit until now.

Rafe kissed you back, slowly, as though he was testing the waters. His hand slid to your jaw, holding you gently as his lips pressed against yours with a tenderness that surprised you both. There was nothing frantic about it, no rush. Just the simple, raw need to connect, to feel something good after all the loss.

When you finally pulled away, your breaths came in shaky bursts. Rafe’s eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. You didn’t know what to say. Words didn’t seem to matter in that moment.

But then you both spoke at once, as if trying to make sense of the overwhelming emotions swirling between you.

“I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Wait, that was… I shouldn’t have—”

You both fell silent, the awkwardness creeping in. But something had shifted. The tension between you had transformed into something else—something deep, something unspoken. You realized, maybe for the first time, that the lines you had drawn between each other were no longer so clear. The walls were crumbling, and in their place was a fragile, but undeniable connection.

“I just…” you started, your heart racing. “I just needed to tell you that you’re not your father, Rafe. You never were. And I... I see you. I see all of you.”

He exhaled sharply, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, his gaze intense. “And I see you too. I don’t know what this means, but I—”

Before he could finish, you pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure everything out. For Willa. For us.”

Rafe nodded, his hands still resting on your face. You both knew that the road ahead was going to be hard—there was no easy way forward. But for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone in it anymore.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Cybertronian Equivalent of Pulling Into The Gas Station To Hide From Cops

411 words. I haven’t felt like writing lately but inspiration struck with this, not sure how to continue so I think I’ll just leave it. LITERALLY NOTHING HAPPENS HERE, just a slice of daily life briefly interrupted by a plane.

“You sure you don’t wanna come in? Hide in the shade?”

The hot Nevada sun bakes the asphalt, along with any planes unlucky enough to be parked on it. Of which there an’t many, the most prominent one being the lone, unmarked F-16 whose pilot seems to be out at the moment.

Nicole pushes open the hangar door just enough to let herself out, and leans on it with some sort of canned drink in her hand, mindful to stay in the shade. The shirt she usually wears is tied around her waist, pant sleeves rolled up to the knees.

“I’m sure I can manage.” Returns the voice over the radio hanging off her belt. She picks it up, pushing the button to talk.

“What are you doing here, anyways?”

“I hardly think that’s any of your business.”

“Whoa, okay. Just thought it might be boring. I’m bored too, you know.”

No reply. She didn’t take it to heart.

“It’s pretty hot out here. Want me to blast you with the pressure washer?”

“You bring that horrid contraption anywhere near me, and it will be the last thing you do.”

“Oookay then.” She takes the final swig of her drink, dumping the can in a small trash bin. The only reason she was here today was to finish up on some maintenance on her plane. The weather, while clear, was too hot for a comfortable flight anyway.

Taking one final look up at the sky, she heads back inside.

Nick’s mind wanders while she works. To Starscream, whatever the hell he was doing here. He already knew she wouldn’t report his presence to the Autobots unless he decided to cause trouble. That much had been put to understanding between them. She contemplates letting them know anyway. No, they would freak out, and it isn’t like he was hurting anyone. Why the hell was he in the town then? Not doing anything.

Time worked differently for cybertronians. Even if he spent the whole day here, it probably didn’t mean all that much to him. Heat must still be a problem, she thought. Nick tried to remember what Ratchet said about their temperature regulation systems.

Never mind that for now. The only temperature regulation system she should be worrying about was this carburator heater she had to fix.

Almost an hour passes until she emerges again, and it doesn’t take long to notice that Starscream is gone. His spot, across from the hangar, is now empty.

[mikewheelersfanfic]

OMG OMG OMG

ok i'm mostly focusing on my polycule i have going on so uh bear with me cause i can ramble (one song per guy bc of this)

1.mike

calico kid - humorus ; smalltown boy - bronski beat ; geyser - mitski

calico kid:

"You’ll see what we all thought you knew Confusing reflection for truth"

you think you know what people think of you; mike is someone that spends a lot of time reflecting on what people think of him, especially as a lgbt middle class boy from small town 80s midwest america. his family isn't the richest but they do live in a place where appearance is important.

this often means he looks for his own faults in what other people see in him, as neglect doesn't leave you with much confidence especially if your support system in 3 other kids and your best friend's mom and older brother when they're poor and probably living paycheck to paycheck.

"Things get hard when your heart is missing Calico, you have known all along Calico Kid you’re not broken Feel so hurt but you’re still hoping"

my S/I doesn't come in until after all their upside down stuff, so this is about will, his best friend, moving to california in 1985. he was lost, depressed, but he hoped that seeing will again would magically fix everything and he can go back to being okay for a while, even knowing he just wants the care will gives him in general

"Why try keeping it inside Let yourself let go, enjoy the ride"

he's autistic, he has a lot of trouble with "presenting correctly" even if he has obvious anger issues. he often struggles sharing his feelings about his trauma because people often brush him off because his default is anger. i help him quite a bit with that in our canon (will and i tackle it together), just learning he can still be loved even if he's hurting and angry and he can enjoy his life

"You’re still waiting for the dogwood trees But these seasons change as they please If you’d take some time to let what is be Then your words can match the world’s melody"

pretty much the same. i'd say he embodies this more towards when we meet, but meeting me is kind of a sign that he won't have to change alone (adding will into it too as soon as i meet him)

2.will

nobody - mitski ; boys don't cry - the cure ; car lights - james marriott

car lights:

"Some more fake smiles, I'll just nod my head For one small glimpse of your breath"

will, my love, has always been a quiet guy. a romantic from the background by silent yearning. he'd rather watch his crushes from afar than actively seek them but he'll also do anything just to spend more time, stay a little longer, talk a little more... "c'mon just one more movie?" softie. and with mike and el (his sister, mike's ex)... he was pushing them together using his own feelings in canon when mike nor el really wanted to date each other but had serious comphet

"Forget my fears, ignore all my frets Just lay your mind on my chest"

he's tactile, though not as much as mike, but like before, just wants to stick as close as he can before he's left behind when his feelings are found out. mike and i love hanging off him so we can convince him to do cuddle piles

"You sure we're out of their sight? They're staring, through the car lights I hate what you're doing, I hate that it feels so"

he's self-conscious, aware of what being gay means for him and with everyone expecting him to be queer, of course he's paranoid despite liking small moments with mike and i even in the forest, our bedrooms, or next to the lake when it's empty.

"I'm not scared there's nothing to run from, well I feel like I'm falling for someone"

technically same as before, but because of all the overt homophobia he's afraid of being in love, of liking someone, even if he knows it's okay (we remind him all the time, though, even when he doesn't ask bc we want him comfortable)

You there. Selfshipper. Tell me what song(s) you associate with your F/O(s), and if you want to, say why! This is an open call to nerd and gush to your heart's content! Bonus if you do full lyric analysis bc that's my jam :)

[varibean]

The worst part about tangled us that they gave me a lil autistic guy who focuses on accessibility, believes in government transparency, fought against a corrupt monarchy and tried to expose the government’s secret fucking police, was used as a scapegoat, and imprisoned and the show wants me to believe that his Good Happy Ending is him working for the very institution that he became disenchanted with to begin with

‘Royal engineer’ sorry beloved, but no <3

[mobblespsycho100]

thinkin abt topaz from an indigenous perspective also is SOOO

RIGHT. RIGHT 😭😭😭 SHE MAKES ME SO... AUGH

[biitchtake]

Last post about this but it feels so unfair and disatisfying as a story for Dabi to end up like this, especially after the prev chapters. I like tragedies as much as the next person but he deserved a better fate man. He should be relearning to live with his family after everything they'd been through together, not being punished so cruelly by the story like this. I'm an enji hater but even these supposed consequences for his actions feels so shallow... Like he still has his wife and two other kids by his side, he still gets to live his life with them and have chances to atone while Dabi can't do shit but slowly wither away, strapped to a machine barely keeping him alive. And again, that shit with Hawks?? 🌽🌽🌽

All the parallels with Touya and Keigo, the implications, only for it to end like this? Keigo simply ending up President bootlicker and apparently close buddies with his one sidded pseudo father??? No input, no acknowledgement of enji's abuse of his family as a victim of abuse himself, no futher thoughts about the sytem that failed himself, Dabi, Twice, etc. Ok.

[starvinginbelair]

sometimes i just want to yell and scream about people who all "my character needs to be morally pure in all manners" because THAT IS NOT THE POINT! THE POINT IS HAVING NUANCED. CONVERSATIONS. ABOUT. WHY. THEY. ARE. THAT. WAY.

[alullinchaos]

also I think we need to entirely reframe how we view mental health and "psychopathology" and I am not fucking kidding

[lowkeyren]

reverse dating tropes w hsr men!

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3

gepard aven sunday vers here!

boothill ꩜ .ᐟ

love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again. 

when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.

he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.

though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.

weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.

boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang. 

"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.

boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours. 

“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)

“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now." 

“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.

"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”

boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."

you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.

“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)

you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.

“—and we’re already dating, silly.”

a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.

“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”

and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.

jing yuan ୭ ˚.

"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.

on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.

“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”

“no jing yuan, not now…”

he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.

“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.

this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.

as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.

suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...”  yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.

clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.

oh bless that kid’s poor eyes… 

you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.

“so… can i have my kiss now?” 

aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)

blade ؛ ଓ

"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.

“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.

“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.

you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”

“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)

march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!” 

“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder. 

(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)

“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends. 

just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”

dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”

before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.

(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)

“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it. 

it’s just the both of you now, finally.

“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.

though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.

✧.*

masterlist gepard aven sunday vers here!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 02

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genre: friends to lovers. college au. slowburn!

Warnings: angst, drug use, profanity, explicit content, talks about abusive home, fighting, arguing, screaming, crying, flashbacks, oc and jk are nineteen (freshmen’s in uni) mentions of death, daddy/mommy issues.

a/n: GOSHHHHHHH! pray for my girl yn😓😓 she’s down bad and she fr ain’t getting up. Left you guys on a cliffhanger hehe. enjoy🤍🤍

01! playlist

"What do you want?" He says, the smallest glint of amusement on his face has Jungkook's stomach recoiling.

"The regular," Jungkook found himself saying, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I don't have opioids. My supplier said there was a shortage—want to try some new shit?" Yoongi says as he balances his cigarette on his lips, looking into a cabin.

"You've tried snow before, right?" He looks up at Jungkook who stands there. "No, I told you l don't fuck with that shit," Jungkook shakes his head, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.

"It's on me, just try it," Yoongi hands Jungkook a small bag filled with white powder. "Just snort it and let it do its thing, boy," Yoongi chuckles as he watches Jungkook look down at the drug in his palm. "It won't kill you if that's what you're thinking," he continues, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.

Jungkook's mind immediately goes to you as the words leave Yoongi's mouth.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” you scream, your hands pulling on your hair as Jungkook watches silently—his heart breaking as he sees the tear fall from your eye. Whatever he wants to say stays stuck in his throat.

“I’ll be fine,” Jungkook finds himself muttering, a loud scoff heard from you as you hold his face in your hands, making him look up at you. “Tell me what’s wrong, fuck! I’ll fix it, just tell me,” you cry out. Jungkook watches as your legs give out and you drop to the floor in front of him.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, his heartbeat stops, and his mind goes blank. He wants to drop to his knees and beg you to not care and run away as far as you can from him, but the selfish part of him wants you to stay.

“Baby,” Jungkook slurs, the drugs in his system not letting him speak normally. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes again for the hundredth time in the past few days. Jungkook drops beside you, removing your hands from your face as another sob racks through your body. Your eyes red and puffy as tears continue to cascade down.

Jungkook knows nothing about love, but there’s you. The highlight of his days, the only reason he even wants to wake up in the morning.

He hates how he drags you along with him—in every bad decision he makes. Jungkook’s life hasn’t been easy; an abusive household isn’t something anybody wants, but he’s one of the unlucky ones who got it. He knows he’s a legal adult and can move out, but his feet stay glued inside that house because of her, his mom.

God. Jungkook has seen everything fucked up in the piece of shit he calls his house. The blows his mom would take from the man whose blood Jungkook carries. He wasn’t a father to him, that’s for sure. Screams and fighting are the only things his house is filled with. He never heard a bedtime story or got a good night hug. The hug was replaced by a hit on the cheek, jaw, face—or anywhere his dad could get his hands on.

Jungkook blames his dad for the way he is, and every time he looks at you, he imagines the what ifs. Jungkook has done everything he could do to push you away, but instead of leaving, you stayed. It’s scared the shit out of him.

He’s in love with you. Jungkook has never felt anything more in his life than his love for you—it’s almost pathetic how much you make him feel. If your love were a drug, Jungkook would do it every day, every hour, and every minute instead of all the shit he put in his system to forget.

Your love is pure and innocent—everything that Jungkook isn’t. Every time he looks at you, he’s afraid he will break you. He wishes you could realize how unfixable he is and leave—but instead, you’re on your knees begging for him to be better.

How badly did he want to be better; so he could be with you.

“Stop saying sorry and stop doing it, fuck,” you sob, your fist holding onto his hoodie—your knuckles turning white from fear that if you let him go, he’ll vanish.

“You’re better than this. I know you are,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wetting his hoodie with your tears. “Please stop, you could die.” you beg desperately, like a child would.

“Shh,” he comforts, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into him, “I’m sorry.”

As Jungkook walked, the guilt inside him consumed him more and more. The hurt expression on your face after he disrespected you remained etched in his mind, feeling like someone was poking his heart with a needle with each step he took.

Similarly, the weight of the small bag in the pocket of his sweater sent a sense of panic through his body. He hadn’t planned on taking it, but the moment it was placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. Instead, he bit his tongue and shoved it into his pocket.

His heart sank as an image flashed in his mind of what your reaction would be if you ever found out. With a shake of his head, he buried the thought deep within him before reaching the main door of his house.

Jungkook’s hand trembles as he holds onto the doorknob. He had nowhere else to go, it was either yours or this. He felt his throat close up as his mind went back to you, his heart screaming for you. To turn around and run back to you—like always, his safe space. The only place where he could let his guard down.

The aching sensation in his chest reminded him of the first time he told you about his dad. You were both seventeen—laying on the carpet of your room, staring up at the ceiling. The broken expression on your face after he confided in you made him feel worse than any hit he had ever taken.

“Did you seriously get into another fight?” you groaned as you examined his face, the purple and blue marks beginning to form twisting your stomach in knots. “Who was it this time?” you frowned, your hand reaching out to touch his bruised cheek.

“Didn’t fight anyone. I actually hit myself with the car door,” the lie flowed smoothly out of his mouth.

“A door?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully believing him. Jungkook had a tendency to throw the first punch after someone lightly touched him—he had more suspensions and run ins with the police than anyone could count. Every time you saw him, there was another bruise decorating his skin, always brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Who was it?” You tried again, your face turning to him.

Jungkook's eyes remained locked with the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled softly into the darkness.

“Why not? Is it a secret?” You quipped, scooting closer to his side—your finger tracing his features as he let out a deep breath. “It’s a really big secret,” he hushed, to which you only nodded eagerly.

“I can keep a secret,” you smiled, your heart beating fast in your chest as you noticed the proximity between you two. You raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky promise,” you bit your lip anxiously, watching him interlock his pinky with yours. “Okay, now tell me.”

“My dad,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“What?” You stuttered out, hoping you had heard him wrong.

“My dad, he's abusive,” he restated. The color drained from your face, and Jungkook saw it.

Sadness written all over your face. Words didn’t come out when you opened your mouth; instead, an ugly cry replaced the words.

“That’s why I can’t stand someone’s hands on me,” Jungkook says, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to escape the pain in his heart. It felt as if he was being kicked and thrown.

“Fuck.. I always touch you,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your sobs. “Your touch is the only touch that doesn’t repulse me, baby. So if you plan on not touching me, don’t,” Jungkook quickly interjected, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with his.

Jungkook loved your touch; your fingers on his skin felt like heaven. It almost confused him how much he looked forward to it—sometimes he found himself initiating it. You were the only exception with such privilege; anyone else who laid a finger on him sent a sense of nausea and shivers down his body.

“I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Let me help you.. we can tell the police, he deserves to be in jail. Please,” you sobbed, placing your palm on his cheek.

“You think I don’t know he needs to go to jail? For all I know, he should be put on a electric chair,” Jungkook spat out, shoving your hand away from his face.

“And fuck. Yes, my mom knows. She fucking gets hit too,” he rambled, his chest heaving as he tried to look anywhere in your room that wasn’t you, and for the first time, you saw him break down.

As Jungkook crumbled down with a loud sob, his hands cover his face as his shoulders shake as he weeps, you wasted no time dropping to your knees and pulling him into you, whispering reassuring words in his ear.

"She doesn't leave," he cried. "I keep telling her he's going to kill her if she doesn't leave, but she stays." The cracks in his voice mirrored the cracks in your heart as you listened, feeling the weight of his pain, as the double meaning clicks in your head.

"And I can't leave. Who's going to protect her if I'm not there?" he sobbed quietly, his hands tightening around your waist. "I'm scared that if I leave for too long, I'll come back to a house with a dead body in it," he confessed, sending shivers down your spine.

"Baby," you cooed, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"we should tell the police. They'll help you. I promise."

But his response shattered your hopes.

"No," he croaked out, untangling himself from your embrace.

"Listen to me. If you even think about telling a policeman what I just told you, I swear to god yn, I will never fucking forgive you," Jungkook shook, his face contorted with pain and panic.

"I trust you enough to tell you, but I swear if you say anything about this to anyone, we're done. Whatever the fuck we have, it's done. I will never fucking forgive you."

Jungkook pushes the door open, and he’s met with silence. Without thinking twice, he rushes to his mom's room, slamming the door open to be met with her limp body on the bed.

His heart stops beating, and suddenly everything stops—his hand trembles as he makes his way to her. He nudges her once.

“Mom,” Jungkook calls, only to be met with silence.

“Mom,” he tries again. She stirs in her sleep.

“Jungkook?” She croaks, her voice hoarse as she peeks from her lying position. Jungkook's heart picks up again, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Mom, are you okay? What happened?” Jungkook asks, dropping beside her on the bed. His fingers move her dark hair off her face carefully, revealing a bruise on her cheek.

“He hit you again?” Jungkook lets out a growl, his fist tightening beside him.

“I made him mad. It’s not his fault,” she defends, almost automatically making Jungkook scoff. “Mom, that's not an excuse!” He grits his teeth.

“He isn’t a bad man, Jungkook. He's still your father,” she sighs, the look of tiredness clear on her face as she winces when she moves to her side. Jungkook watches dumbfounded.

“You know, you remind me of him,” she shakes out a laugh, the whole sentence feeling like a punch in the stomach for Jungkook. The more he tries to breathe, the more difficult it becomes. “He was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you—it’s like I’m seeing him. He is a good man underneath it all, Jungkook. You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” she continues, and every word feels like a hit in the gut.

“W-what do you mean.. I’m just like him?” Jungkook stutters, his throat drying up and the familiar feeling of tears picking up in his eyes have him clawing his nails into his palms.

“Do you think when I met your dad, he treated me wrong?” She finally locks eyes with Jungkook. The light in her eyes she once had is now gone, replaced with dull, tired eyes. “He was gentle with me, he was sweet, caring, he was everything to me. He’s still everything to me,” a tear rolls down her cheek, making Jungkook suck in a breath.

“What about me?” Jungkook's voice cracks, the knot in his throat tightening as he watches his mom shake her head.

“Am I not everything to you, Mom?” Another tear falls, followed by more.

“It’s more complicated than you think, Jungkook,” she sighs. Jungkook feels his heart crack into a million pieces as he watches the woman who brought him into this life discard him.

“He’s going to kill you one day,” Jungkook speaks, wiping the tears from his eyes before clearing his voice. “He’s going to kill you, and you’re going to let it happen.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispers into the silence.

“He wouldn’t?” A shocked laugh leaves Jungkook's lips as he can’t believe what he just heard. “He fucking wouldn’t? He fucking hits you? Aren’t you fucking scared that one day he throws the wrong punch?” Jungkook shouts, anger taking over.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snaps. “I’m your mother, and you don’t get to fucking talk to me like that.”

“Well, you’re a shitty mother. A good mother would put their child first. The only reason I’m still here is because of you!” Jungkook snaps back, his frustration growing stronger as he watches his mom stay motionless.

“I keep coming back because I’m scared he’ll kill you. But apparently, you don’t give a fuck,” he breathes out, his hand tugging on his hair—feeling almost manic at the lack of his mother's reaction.

“Every hit he took on me, you blamed it on me. When all I did was try to protect you. But you always choose him. So fucking next time he comes in through those doors and has his way with you, don’t come running or yelling my name to come and save you,” Jungkook spits out before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

Jungkook's mind kept racing, never shutting up for a moment, allowing him to think. His brain was filled with repetitions of everything his mom just said. The words "he was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you-it's like I'm seeing him" kept getting repeated in his head over and over again without a break.

Screams of his mom asking for him to save her echoed in his brain, the weight of his guilt and the haunting memories that plagued his mind had Jungkook pulling out the small baggie from his sweater, moving to the small desk in his room.

Jungkook dropped the white powder on the surface, making a line. Without hesitation, Jungkook leaned over, pinching one of his nostrils before snorting.

A sharp burning, stinging sensation spread through Jungkook's nose as he sniffed, rubbing off the remaining powder.

Jungkook dropped onto his bed in a star position as he stared at the ceiling, the feeling of numbness taking over his body. His muscles relaxed as the drug entered his bloodstream, sending a sense of euphoria—a warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him groan in pleasure.

And for once, the voices finally stopped.

It was embarrassing how you found yourself looking for the man you were in love with every corner of the campus. You started with the lockers and hallways, peeking through every classroom, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the boy who left you standing in your angel costume Saturday night.

You had debated on running after him; the guilt that weighed you down from the slap was intense. Your touch was supposed to be his only gateway, instead, you used it against him to hurt him the same way his dad does. As messed up as his words were, it didn’t compare.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, poking Dahlia on the shoulder. She turns to look at you, mouth filled with food as she nods without saying anything.

“You have?” Your eyebrow raises as she continues to nod eagerly.

“Y-yeah, he’s ou-outside, in the corner,” Dahlia finally says, swallowing her food. You throw a small ‘thank you’ and rush outside.

As you run to the corner where everybody meets up to smoke, you curse out loud as you trip on the crack of the pavement before changing your pace to walking instead.

Your eyes meet his in an instant as you pass the corner, the lit-up joint hanging from his lips. You look around to see Taehyung and Jimin with worried looks on their faces. As you walk closer to them, Jungkook passes the joint to his friend before crossing his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would find it hot.

“What’s up, pretty,” Taehyung says, trying to break the awkward silence as he takes a hit off the joint before passing it to Jimin, who looks uncomfortable as hell.

“Hey,” you acknowledge them both, giving polite head nods before turning your attention to the boy in the middle, his eyes bloodshot red with a small grin decorating his handsome face.

“What’s so funny?” You snap, crossing your arms in front of you. A loud laugh slips out of his mouth, shocking the boys beside him. “Hi baby,” he says, his eyes dropping low as he moves closer to you. You push him away with a hand on his chest, making him pout.

“Rude,” he playfully scoffs, leaning back onto the wall and reaching for the blunt on Taehyung’s fingers as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“That’s enough,” you say, taking away the joint from Taehyung’s hand as Jungkook was about to reach for it.

“This is our cue to leave. Let’s go,” Taehyung hurries off, pulling on his blonde friends arm, before they both mutter something under their breaths as they disappear around the corner.

“Don’t throw that, it’s some good shit, and I just bought it,” Jungkook chuckles, reaching for it only for you to push him away.

“Alright then,” you pull the rolled-up paper up to your lips and take a drag. Jungkook's face drops, and suddenly nothing is funny. His hand immediately shoots up and yanks the joint out of your mouth before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook roars, watching you cough loudly as white smoke rushes out of your mouth.

“Fuck, what were you thinking?” He panics, rubbing a hand over your back to coax your coughing fit. Your throat and chest burn as you continue to cough.

“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you hear me? It’s not good for you,” Jungkook sighs, his rough hand drawing circles down your back as you finally calm down.

“So, you agree it’s not good for you?” You say, your voice hoarse from all the coughing. “Let’s not do this right now, yn,” he pulls on your arm as he walks you to the parking lot. “You never want to do anything,” you yank your arm from his grip. Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying his best not to snap at you.

“Just get in the car, baby,” he continues, opening the passenger door for you. Instead, you push him off and slam the door shut.

“You’re high as fuck; you can’t drive, asshole,” you snap, throwing your arms in the air in anger. “And you’re not?” he clenches his teeth. “I took one hit,” you shove a finger in his face.

“Yeah, a big-ass one. Before you know it, you’ll be high, so get in the fucking car or I’ll put you in it myself,” he snaps. “You wouldn’t dare,” you spit out, and before you know it, your ass is in the air as he hauls you over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t?” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he opens the car door and sits you down on the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping you in. “Where are you taking me?” You roll your eyes as he sits down beside you.

“To your fucking house,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot of the school and driving you home.

The whole car ride is filled with silence; neither of you decides to utter a word. The moment the car stops in front of your house, you hurriedly unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door before sprinting to your door, unlocking it, and disappearing inside. Jungkook almost screams into his hands, wanting to throw a whole tantrum in this car, but he decides otherwise.

With a loud sigh, he turns off the car, turns to the back seat, gets his sweater, and jumps out of the car. He takes the same route he always did when he showed up at your house, climbing himself over the picket fence before climbing the tree next to your window.

The window is opened as you sit on the ground of your room, your knees up to your chest. Jungkook throws his sweater in first before jumping in.

Then his heart dropped, your small hands hold the tiny bag that was in the pocket of his sweater that had fallen out.

“What’s this, Jungkook?” You voice out, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the wavering of your voice as you finally look up at him. His heart might just have been stabbed by your shocked expression, the betrayal and the pain etched in your expressions send a shooting pain in his heart.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking baby me! What the fuck is this?” You interrupt him, your hand shaking as you think of every possible drug that could be in the bag. Jungkook didn’t reply; the words suddenly died in his mouth.

“Is this a way of pushing me away?” You ask, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, mixing with your anger and heartbreak.

“Did something happen at home again? Why? Fuck, why?” You cry, a soul-crushing sob that comes out of you, which has Jungkook coming back to his senses. He feels like shit, and that word doesn’t even cover half of what he’s feeling.

“Please tell me why? I’ll do anything. Let me help you, just fucking stop doing this shit, baby.” You cry, pulling his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform.

“Use me, scream at me, tell me horrible shit if that helps. Just don’t ever touch any drugs, Jungkook. I don’t know what I would do if you died.” You whisper the last words as you sob into his arms, begging for him to stop. “I’m never leaving your side, so get that into your head. If this is your way of pushing me away, it won’t work.” You sob.

And that’s where everything clicks for Jungkook. His mind thinks back to his mom, “You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” and his heart drops to the ground. All the walls he took so long to build collapse. He was just like his dad—Jungkook wanted to say he wasn’t, but here he was, hurting you, making you sob into his arms, begging for him to change. The same thing his mom does anytime his father would get drunk.

“I’m not good for you,” Jungkook finally speaks, his hands cupping your face. “I’m not good for you.” He repeats, and you shake your head disapprovingly repeatedly. “Stop.” You cry, your tears wetting Jungkook's palms as he repeats the same thing over again.

“You deserve someone so much fucking better, baby,” Jungkook whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “You deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, baby, besides heartache and pain.” He continues as you repeat ‘no’ over and over again under your breath.

“Please don’t leave me,” you cry, as he untangles himself from you, pushing your hand away gently when you try to reach for him.

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t leave. Stay the night; we’ll talk about this in the morning.” That was the last thing Jungkook heard as he jumped out of the window and ran to his car, leaving his heart in the hands of the girl crying on the floor, praying for him to be safe.

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU (Pt.2)

Pt.1

Im not done with this, so to the people that wanted more, here it is! I, fortunately or not, have thought way too much again, so once more this is going to be a very, very, VERY long post. If you guys have any ideas about this btw, please do share them! I really am just letting my mind wander a bit more than usual, so maybe someone else can have more structured thoughts than me lol. (Fair warning, there probably will be plot holes, so sorry in advance!)

Please read Pt.1 if you haven't, or this won't make any sense!

After SY warped away from his impromptu meeting with Binghe, the last place he would like to end up would be even deeper into the Endless Abyss, but according to his System, the next piece of the virus was here. While not happy, since his Personal System was (mostly) working as intended, SY managed to activate Ghost Mode and walk towards the next part without having to deal with any of the creatures down there. (He had to try very hard not to get distracted by the monsters, lest his supervisor thinks he also went missing.)

It takes considerably more time to find the virus this time, so much in fact, SY starts to recognize his surroundings from SQH's ramblings (not that he was interested or anything), and he feels a cold sense of dread running down his spine. There was no way he was that unlucky that the object that got corrupted this time was-

He was that unlocky. Lo and behold, after entering a run down ruin, SY is faced with the legendary Xin Mo, power so overwhelming it manifested as dark fire covering the blade. The only reason why SY wasn't immediately writhing on the ground from the sword's power was Ghost Mode, which he could not rely for too long, as his Personal System was displaying warning after warning about Possibility of Corruption and God Like Plot Point. It all meant that SY was on a timer, and if he took too long, the sword would start corrupting his System, which in turn could corrupt him.

Now, since this was a VERY important Plot Point, Luo Binghe had to find Xin Mo or else the plot would derail to an unfixable degree, SY couldn't just snip at it, which was a problem, since manual debugging took a considerably longer time! Still, he summons his Scissors and positions it so he can start at least trimming off the virus.

His plan immediately backfires however, as an ominous crack sounds through the air and he's suddenly pushed away from the sword by a gust of energy. A bit disoriented, he shakes his head and acesses the sit-

Xin Mo, the horrible sword it was, was apparently so OP that it seemed to detect the Scissors at the last second, and the thing attacked back! The metal of the Scissors was dark and broken where it came close to the sword, almost broken in half! Which, not good! It any other time, a pair of broken Debugging Sheers would be more or less fine, if not a major inconvinience (and pay deduction) for SY, but since he'd been warping all over the time for a while now, his Personal System's energy reserves were carefully rationed, and if he were to use a chunk to send the Scissors back for some emergency repair, he'd only have one chance to go back to HQ. Alone.

He couldn't delay it any longer, he desperately needed to find SQH and pray he still had some energy reserves left.

Setting his Personal System's next warp location to SQH's last known location, SY wouldn't have guessed in a million years that he would go back to Cang Qiong Mountain, but whatever; maybe SQH had wanted to start with fixing the bug on Binghe's pendant? Not that this was the right time since it was after Binghe fell into the Abyss, but SQH had never been good at warping. It takes a bit of wandering and going inside different buildings, but eventually his Personal System managed to get a dirrect ping on SQH's System, which sent a massive wave of relief rushing through SY, since it meant that SQH was still slive.

Though as to why he was at An Ding Peak, SY could only guess.

After a bit more wandering, SY enters on what seems to be a (very messy) office space, SY feels all the pieces coming together in his mind. Half sprawled across the table with piles of paper covering the entire table's surface lay the An Ding Peak Lord, which- was already weird, since wasn't this guy supposed to be an enemy of the Peak now? After the whole betrayal thing or whatever? But that would've been something to look into later, were it not for said Peak Lord casually scrolling through a Personal System screen. A Personal System that could only be used by the System's Maintanence Staff.

SY wastes no time in deactivating Ghost Mode, and when SQH's eyes snap to his, the man jumps so high from his chair he almost falls back. It's not a happy reunion by a longshot, since SY immediately jumped his friend co-worker and demanded an explaination, almost screaming about it was all his fault for doing shitty maintenence, and creating this shitty world if it's shitty OP sword which broke his Sheers? Do you know how expensive these are?? I know you do, cause the supervisor never lets you touch the good ones cause you keep cracking all the other pairs-

It takes a more or less one whole hour to calm down SY, but eventually the younger settled and lets SQH say his bit of the story: Apparently, in his messing around with the System's world creation program when he was trying to find the bug in his world, he'd accidentaly managed to get himself actually transmigrated to PIDW, though still with (limited) acess to his Personal System, which let him still send messages to their supervisor and pretend that everything was ok. He'd gotten so unlucky too! Out of all the people to accidentaly select, did it have to be the An Ding Peak Lord? Couldn't it have been Binghe? Or MBJ- (SQH cuts his lamenting when he notices SY's absolutely viscious death glare being stared right through his soul.)

Long story short, he'd initially did try to fix his blunder, but as more time passed and SQH's access to Maintenance priviledges went out one by one on his System, he eventually just... Started actually living there. In fact, he was living so well there that he dared say his life as Peak Lord was even better then when he was with the System! Of course, since he had been integrated as a 'character' now, he had his limitations, he actually managed to get to know his fellow peak lords! He knew the name of his character's family members and his disciples! He'd managed to build a life he never even thought he could have inside the System.

Sure, did he betray the Peak? Yes, yes he did. Were they all going to die in a few years time when Binghe came back from hell? Yeah, yeah they were, and he was immensely guilty and terrified, but! The plot could be changed! He already assumed someone from the System had popped up in the Conference, as when Binghe had recently made his alliance with MBJ, and had mentioned in passing this weird thing that had happened to him just before he fell into the Abyss.

Anyways, eventually SY begrudgingly accepts SQH's decision to stay in PIDW, but he still had to help SY; and so they form a plan: SY was going to transfer some energy to SQH so he could temporarily get his acess to the full version of his Personal System and use his energy reserves to send SY's Sheers and get them fixed. SQH was also going to properly apologize to their supervisor for suddenly quitting without notice AND order some more energy stacks to be sent to SY's System. SY on the other hand had devises a plan to get closer to XIn Mo without the sword exploding his face off:

Infiltrate Demon Emperor Luo Binghe's palace as a lowly staff member and slowly debug the sword from the inside.

A perfect plan! What could go wrong?

SY selects to warp to a time where Binghe had Xin Mo mostly in control, so it is to no surprise he warps to a place were the Demonic Emperor's Palace is absolutely filled with women. Not the best situation, since a lot of people could and probably would be able to see him, but with that many harem members, it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume there was also a considerable number of staff, which, to SY's luck, there was! In fact, after he managed to activate a disguise for his clothes so they matched the rest of the servants, no one bat an eye on his presence; at most someone would inquire about his short hair, but other than that he was as noteable as a fly.

The first phase of his plan was already a success, so now he had to move on to reconnaissance which was mostly easy and the worst thing in his life. He was mostly looking for Binghe's quarters could be as he probably kept the sword close to him at all times, though with how big the palace was, his objective had gradually shifted to mapping out the labyrinth of halls as much as possible (SY was very glad that the System allowed him to create a map in real time or he might have gotten lost in the first five minutes). He walks so much he even manages to catch a few pieces of gossip, though the most interesting one by far being one about Binghe:

Apparently, a year ago, the Emperor had a qi deviation where, for a day, he seemed to have completely shifted his personality; he refused to touch any of his wives and kept screaming for his long dead Shizun. SY doesn't really remember that plot point, though his wondering is cut short when he hears people walking towards his direction. instinctively he his behind a dark corner, momentarily forgetting that he 'worked' at the palace now.

At list his bad luck was finally turning over as the Golden Protagonist himself walked past him with one of his wives hanging off his arm, looking just as cool as SY had always imagined. He had to snap himself out of his stuppor though, as two things caught his attention: First, Xin Mo was, predictably, strapped to his waist, still glitched but at least the virus seemed more or less contained, which gave SY a bit more time to work, though the other thing he noticed...

Hanging onto an old-looking braid laid SY's missing tassle that Binghe had found for him all the way back at the Conference.

What the hell was Luo Binghe doing wearing that old tassle at this day and age??

A few days passed and the Tassle Incident (as he called it) had to be set aside, as it seemed that passing as a servant also meant that other servants and even some wives expected SY to actually work. Not great, he sucked at cleaning and the other servants spared no words to make it clear to him, but it at least gave him something to do while he waited for his Scissors to arrive. SQH had sent him a few messages saying he'd gotten his part of the deal done, so now all SY could do was monitor Xin Mo's condition (from very far away), and occasionally manually debug some small virus pieces that had fallen from the sword, which luckily were easy enough to deal with that he didn't need to cut them off.

The only thing that was worrying him now is how... odd Luo Binghe seemed. Of course, he was supposed to be the pinnacle of the Cool Guy trope, so some edginess was to be expected, but Binghe didn't look just Edgy, he looked straight up depressed. There were bags under his eyes, and he barely seemed to tolerate the presence of 99% of his wives, and that damned braid with the damned tassle was still there-

Point is, Binghe acting so weird really threw SY through a loop, and he may have gotten a bit careless. At a random day when SY was carrying some dirty laundry another servant had just shoved at him, he had no prior warning before a voice sounded from behind him: "You seem to have dropped something."

He barely managed to shake off the violent sense of deja-vu that had sucker punched him in the face before he realized what was happening; Luo Binghe was talking to him. Directly to him. Shit- shit! Did he notice? Was Binghe doing a clever call back, spider-man style?? Was SY going to die????

SY shakily turns to Binghe, keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, bowing as much as possible that he still seemed respectful but the bag of clothes he had didn't all just fall to the floor. Thankfully Binghe didn't seem to mind, and simply put the fallen piece of clothing on top of the others and walked away. Though, just as SY was regaining his breath, Luo Binghe's voice stops him again. "You... Have we met before?"

SY trembles something about only being hired recently and not having the opportunity to formaly meet Junshang, and it seems to be a decent enough that Binghe just stares at him for a while longer before walking away. He really should grow out his hair if even the Emperor got weirded out like that...

Binghe started eyeing SY way more after that day. The protagonist would rarely speak directly to him, but SY could feel his gaze as if it were burning; though, since Binghe never said anything, SY just assumed that whatever Binghe's problem with him was, it was likely nothing to worry about.

In fact, it probably was because one of Binghe's wives had used SY is an impromptu act to try to get Binghe jealous (he just frowned, separated the two and walked away) and after that she had gotten infatuated with him, so she'd turned SY into her personal servant. Because of that SY saw Binghe at most two times a week instead of the 50% chnace of seeing his shadow once a week. Wow.

Because of this, as much as Binghe noticed SY, SY noticed Binghe as well, the protagonist seeming to get even more down as the days went. The tassle was still braided in his hair (SY worried it was just going to become a lock at this point), his eyebags never seemed to leave his eyes, and he was always muttering about... something. (SY managed to overhear something about 'fairness' and what Binghe actually wanted...?)

It all culminated at a seemingly random night. Most of the wives and servants had gone to sleep, only the more in-human women still hanging around, and SY, of course, but mostly it was because he wanted to see how close he could get to Binghe's quarters (aka Xin Mo) at night. Not that it was necessary, as when he was walking his attention was adruptly caught by the strangest sight: Luo binghe, sitting on one of the stone stair that lead to one of the many courtyards, being absolutely drenched in rain. The weirdest part was that a few servants and wives had also passed this place, and they all seemed like they didn't see Binghe, or didn't care.

Hating to see such an usually proud man (not that he'd seen much of that either) just soaking outside as if he'd just caught the love of his life cheating with another man, SY decided that at least he'd do a good job as a servant and take care of 'his Lord'. He grabs an umbrella from one of the adjacent rooms and slowly walks outside, covering Luo Binghe's form, not really caring if he was also getting soaked.

They stayed silent for who knows how long, but eventually, Binghe's eyes that had been laser focused on the horizon slowly blink once, as if coming out of a trance, and slowly move to SY's face, up to his hand holding the umbrella. "My Lord should get back inside. He'll get sick that way." SY half murmurs.

Binghe doesn't respond, though after a few seconds, his eyes seem to widen a bit and his breath comes out a little shaky. SY doesn't dare comment on it.

"Have we met before?" Luo Binghe asks again.

"...Yes." Shen Yuan says.

Binghe closes his eyes, and they stay like that for another hour.

[bi-writes]

whats wrong with ai?? genuinely curious <3

okay let's break it down. i'm an engineer, so i'm going to come at you from a perspective that may be different than someone else's.

i don't hate ai in every aspect. in theory, there are a lot of instances where, in fact, ai can help us do things a lot better without. here's a few examples:

ai detecting cancer

ai sorting recycling

some practical housekeeping that gemini (google ai) can do

all of the above examples are ways in which ai works with humans to do things in parallel with us. it's not overstepping--it's sorting, using pixels at a micro-level to detect abnormalities that we as humans can not, fixing a list. these are all really small, helpful ways that ai can work with us.

everything else about ai works against us. in general, ai is a huge consumer of natural resources. every prompt that you put into character.ai, chatgpt? this wastes water + energy. it's not free. a machine somewhere in the world has to swallow your prompt, call on a model to feed data into it and process more data, and then has to generate an answer for you all in a relatively short amount of time.

that is crazy expensive. someone is paying for that, and if it isn't you with your own money, it's the strain on the power grid, the water that cools the computers, the A/C that cools the data centers. and you aren't the only person using ai. chatgpt alone gets millions of users every single day, with probably thousands of prompts per second, so multiply your personal consumption by millions, and you can start to see how the picture is becoming overwhelming.

that is energy consumption alone. we haven't even talked about how problematic ai is ethically. there is currently no regulation in the united states about how ai should be developed, deployed, or used.

what does this mean for you?

it means that anything you post online is subject to data mining by an ai model (because why would they need to ask if there's no laws to stop them? wtf does it matter what it means to you to some idiot software engineer in the back room of an office making 3x your salary?). oh, that little fic you posted to wattpad that got a lot of attention? well now it's being used to teach ai how to write. oh, that sketch you made using adobe that you want to sell? adobe didn't tell you that anything you save to the cloud is now subject to being used for their ai models, so now your art is being replicated to generate ai images in photoshop, without crediting you (they have since said they don't do this...but privacy policies were never made to be human-readable, and i can't imagine they are the only company to sneakily try this). oh, your apartment just installed a new system that will use facial recognition to let their residents inside? oh, they didn't train their model with anyone but white people, so now all the black people living in that apartment building can't get into their homes. oh, you want to apply for a new job? the ai model that scans resumes learned from historical data that more men work that role than women (so the model basically thinks men are better than women), so now your resume is getting thrown out because you're a woman.

ai learns from data. and data is flawed. data is human. and as humans, we are racist, homophobic, misogynistic, transphobic, divided. so the ai models we train will learn from this. ai learns from people's creative works--their personal and artistic property. and now it's scrambling them all up to spit out generated images and written works that no one would ever want to read (because it's no longer a labor of love), and they're using that to make money. they're profiting off of people, and there's no one to stop them. they're also using generated images as marketing tools, to trick idiots on facebook, to make it so hard to be media literate that we have to question every single thing we see because now we don't know what's real and what's not.

the problem with ai is that it's doing more harm than good. and we as a society aren't doing our due diligence to understand the unintended consequences of it all. we aren't angry enough. we're too scared of stifling innovation that we're letting it regulate itself (aka letting companies decide), which has never been a good idea. we see it do one cool thing, and somehow that makes up for all the rest of the bullshit?

[bet-on-me-13]

Ghost Zone Breakout Au

So! Danny is missing. Maybe it's a Vivisection AU and he ran away, maybe he got trapped by one of his Rogues, either way, Danny is gone and his Rogues are free to spread across the planet.

Walker in particular has an interesting adventure.

After Danny trashed his Prison and broke Wulf out, people realized that it wasn't as impenetrable as he made it out to be. And what's an army of Immortal Criminals to do when given all the time in the world? They test each and every method they can to break in or to escape.

Danny's actions caused a Domino Effect that lead to Walkers Prison being torn apart from both the inside and the outside. He lost his Territory, his Power, and most of his Guards. So he decided to start again in the Mortal Realm.

And he found the perfect New Haunt.

Arkham.

He's never seen such a sorry Prison in his AfterLife (It's an asylum). Criminals breaking in and out every other week, no prisoner staying for longer than a month at most, and nobody is doing anything to fix it.

He needs to remedy this.

So one night, he and his Army of Ghostly Guards attack the Prison. They Overshadow whatever guards are on Duty, take control of the Prison Systems, and Initiate a Total Lockdown.

Walker then sends out a Message.

"People of the Mortal Realm. I an Warden Walker, the new Head of this here little Prison. We have seen how terrible this sorry excuse for a prison is, and decided to take it upon ourselves to fix it. From now on, we will be the Guards of this Arkham. Send your prisoners here, and they will stay here. Try to break in, and you will never leave. Try to force us out, and you will join our undead Ranks. This is not a Negotiation, this is not a Request, this is an Announcement. If you have a problem with this, then I will be happy for personally meet you. I am in need of new employees after all."

After this message, many tried to stop him, but none were successful. He didn't seem to understand that a Prison is meant to hold Prisoners for a determined amount of Time, not forever. Or that it wasn't a Prison in the first place, it was an Asylum to treat the mentally ill.

The Bats could do anything either. Any time they tried to take back the prison, they were beaten back by the Possessed Guards and Ghostly Guards patrolling the grounds. And they didn't want to hurt the Hostages.

They needed a solution, so they got to digging.

Apparently they weren't the only ones who were dealing with Ghost Related Issues. All across the world, powerful Ghosts were claiming large areas of land as their new Haunts, weaker Ghosts were running Rampant in the spaces in between, and JLD was being run ragged as they tried to help wherever they could.

It was a worldwide issue, and they needed to find the Cause.

After a lengthy investigation, they found that all the Ghosts originally came from one Place. A small town in Illinois where they had been trying to break into the Mortal Realm for years, but they had been stopped by another. A Ghost who protected the Mortal Realm from the powerful Spirits of the Dead.

If they had any hope of containing this threat, they needed his help. They needed to find Phantom.

[prokopetz]

I've been noodling around with ideas for an Eat God playset that introduces the possibility of big stupid anime battles, probably intended to be used in conjunction with that hypothetical tactical conflict add-on I've been pondering, and I feel like the most obvious way to go about it is to posit the existence of a rival faction of the Folk called... oh, let's be super obvious and call them the Throne-seekers, who ostensibly agree with the God-eaters that the universe is broken, but believe that fundamentally it's a problem of poor leadership, and think they can fix the system from the inside. Naturally they wield hollow parodies of the Rebellious Arts, display a penchant for bloviating monologues, and have no idea they're huge sellouts. Like, fuck it, let's go full "what if Jim Henson wrote Kill Six Billion Demons".

[slushycoookie]

Three's Not a Crowd ~ Miguel O'Hara x Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 7.9k

✩ Content: Citizen!Reader. Logan can be which ever one you think of, I didn't go into much detail. Deadpool shows up for a little bit. Miguel and Logan tussle before we get to the dirty stuff. Protected Sex (I make Logan wrap it up once again). P in V. Oral sex (fem receiving). Vaginal sex. MINORS DNI!

✩ A/N: It's a crime that I haven't seen a lot of Miguel and Logan fics so I'm fixing that rn. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“You know what you’re doing, right?”

You shoot him a look, “I know you did not just ask me that.” Miguel stuttered, not realizing that his words might’ve offended you.

“No, shock, sorry, I was just-”

“Miguel, chill.” You playfully punched his arm. “I got this.”

“You do. I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

You knew he didn’t mean that, but you wouldn’t tell him you were a little nervous. It would be your first time working the Go Home machine alone without help from Margo, who was planning to go on more missions for Miguel. You knew your way around regarding technology—making your position at Spider Society a very helpful one.

For someone who didn’t have any superpowers.

“Just don’t press the ‘blow up HQ’ button and you’ll be straight.” Margo added in, making sure you were all set by putting the last of her console commands.

“Why would I even want to press that button?”

“Just in case you get bored. Like I do.”

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, “Do you think it was a good idea to say that in front of your boss?”

“Yes.” Margo winked, making him shake his head at her antics.

“Just call one of us if you do need help.” Miguel assured you with a hand on your shoulder. You tried not to focus on how huge his hand was on you. How close he was to you. How good he smelled at that moment. Like sandalwood. Good thing you had the best poker face in the world, otherwise your crush on him was going to show.

“I will, don’t worry.”

You had a system for sending anomalies back through the Go Home machine. You tried to get the ones brought in order so they wouldn’t spend much time inside the building. Some were antsy, primarily the villains, so you always did your best to get them out immediately. Otherwise, they'd cause problems.

Your stomach growled when you glanced at the time. It was almost lunch. Miguel was still on a mission, so you figured having lunch with him was off the table. You tried to ignore the disappointment in your stomach when you thought about being unable to eat with him. Especially since you brought him a sandwich you made this morning. He said he liked your food.

A portal emerges, and there you see Miguel and Jess with two anomalies in tow. One was webbed up and unconscious, while the other was happily following them, taking in the sights.

It was a Deadpool and Wolverine, anomalies you've never seen before. The most you've gotten were villains, other spider people who weren't a part of the Society, and random citizens. You knew there were other heroes within the universes, but you'd never thought you see them.

“Oooh it's so shiny!” Deadpool admired the other cages filled with anomalies. The one he was looking at contained a gigantic Vulture. “How did you bring this son of a gun in here?”

“Hey.” Jess called, “We agreed to let you look in exchange for voluntarily locking you up.”

“I know, I know.” Deadpool held out his arms to carry Wolverine, who was across Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel sighed before handing one of the X-Men over, like a bride in Wade's arms.

“Uh, what happened to him?” You asked as you locked the two heroes up.

“Knocked him out with my bike.” Jess informed you, “Kitty cat was getting a little crazy, so I had to calm him down.”

“He didn't have his morning coffee, that's why.” Deadpool started stroking his friend's hair. “Big guy needs his caffeine mixed with two shots of bourbon.”

Miguel sighed, “Just what I needed, a Deadpool and Wolverine. You know they usually come in pairs?”

You didn’t know that.

“Better than dealing with a Green Goblin.”

“Anything's better than dealing with goblin.” Deadpool said, “It's like witnessing therapy 101 when talking to that guy.” You bit your lip to hide your amusement while Jess and Miguel didn’t indulge in him. “Tough crowd. I thought all Spidey's are supposed to be funny.”

“Not him.” You pointed at Miguel, “Hardly a funny bone in his body.” Jess chuckled at that while he rolled his eyes.

“Someone has to be serious around here.”

While putting the two heroes on the list for the Go Home machine, your stomach growled once more. Now that Miguel was back, hopefully you two would get lunch and eat together in his lab like usual. It's almost as if he read your mind when pulling you aside.

“Hey, I'm not eating lunch now. I have a pile of reports I need to sign off on and it will take me a while.”

“Oh.” You ignored the disappointment in your chest. “It's okay. Work comes first.”

Miguel smiled, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thanks for being understanding.”

Once taking his leave, you sat in a chair by the Go Home machine, eating your sandwich. You only had forty-five minutes, but with Miguel, it was usually close to an hour—perks of being a leader of Spider Society.

“Where the fuck are we?” You heard from one of the enclosures. Wolverine was finally awake.

“The future.” Deadpool said, “It's not all that. I didn't see a Taco Bell in here.”

“The closest thing to that are the tacos in the cafeteria.” You stood, tossing the wrapper from your sandwich away.

“Oooh, what about Mexican pizza? We don't even have those in our dimension because they keep taking it off the menu. Capitalism.”

“Can you not focus on food right now?” You see Wolverine shredded the neon webbing to pieces, understandably pissed off. “We need to get out of here.”

“Oh, I wouldn't do that.” You advise, “Not unless you wanna deal with hundreds of spider people as soon as you escape.”

“Yeah, we should sit this out, peanut.” Deadpool patted Wolverine's head, “Unless you wanna embarrass yourself again like when you fight Magneto.”

He growled, kicking the neon webbing away as if he had a personal vendetta with it. “Well, how long are we going to be stuck here?”

“Not long!” You look through your anomaly list, “After two Rhinos and one Mysterio.”

Wolverine sighed, his stomach growling, “Then is it possible to get some food? I'm fucking starving.”

“Are Mexican pizzas still on the table?” Deadpool rubbed his stomach.

“Sorry, I can't let you guys out.” You then look at your lunchbox, remembering the extra sandwich. Miguel wasn’t going to be able to eat it today. “Would a sandwich work?”

“I'd eat anything.”

“I believe him.” Deadpool added.

You slipped the duo the extra sandwich by partially opening up the cage. You told them to enjoy before going back to work. At least briefly before Deadpool started talking to past the time before you eventually had to send them home. You realized the man would keep going and going and going. Funny enough, it didn't bother you, considering working the Go Home machine tended to have a lot of quiet moments.

“I will say, despite being locked up in another dimension that's not my own, I would do it again if I had that hunk come get me every time.”

You lit up at the mention of Miguel. " Are you talking about the guy in the blue and red suit? Strong muscles? Arms you can get lost in?”

“Yes, him. Dude has an insane build. I'd like to have a party with him and two other guys. But you know what they say, four's a crowd.”

“…I thought the phrase was ‘three's a crowd’?”

“Not in this story it isn't.”

Wolverine roughly pushed Deadpool to the side, “Ignore him.”

“It's hard to when his voice resonates across the room.” You said with a hint of amusement.

“Now you see what I deal with every day.”

“I know, poor Wolverine.” You playfully pout, earning a sharp chuckle from him.

“By the way, thanks for the sandwich. It was good.”

You weren't expecting a thank you from the rugged hero, but you appreciated it.

“You're welcome.”

After meeting the infamous Deadpool and Wolverine, you were sure you wouldn't see them again. You couldn't help, but be disappointed by it. Working the Go Home machine all by yourself tended to get lonely. You got occasional visitors like Margo, Jess, Ben, Miles, etc. Miguel was busy as usual.

So it was nice to have some company besides the usual anomalies who were either too dangerous or too confused to speak to.

Maybe it was pure luck when Miguel came in one day with a sigh, carrying the same Wolverine through the portal—no Deadpool, though. Once again, Wolverine was unconscious due to Jess when they put him in the cage, covered with webs.

“Looks like we got a repeater.” You put down the hero's name on the list.

“I'd rather take him over Deadpool.” Miguel stretched and you tried not to focus on his v-line, burying your face in the tablet.

“I don't know, he's pretty funny.”

“Replace that with annoying.”

Once Miguel lowered his mask, you noticed his exhausted eyes. The red was not as bright as it usually was. “Go take a break.”

“I can't.” He ran his hands through his hair. “So many mission reports, new dimensions, new anomalies.” He motioned over to the still knocked-out Wolverine. “It doesn't make sense to take one right now.”

You glared at him, “Go take a damn break, or else I'm blocking you from my watch.”

“You can't do that without administrative controls.”

“I'll ask Lyla to give them to me.”

On cue, Lyla appeared above your shoulder. “I'll do it, Mig. You know I'm always down for a little fun.”

Not wanting to deal with that, Miguel stands down, following your advice to take a break.

“I'll see you?”

You motioned around you to prove a point. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Miguel’s lips curled up briefly, shooting you through the heart. You etched his small attempt at a smile in your mind, wishing you had Lyla quickly take a picture to send it to you. This crush was so stupid. Why couldn't you get yourself together? You would never be with him anyway, considering that Spider Society was first—no one else.

“Not this again…” Wolverine woke again in the same predicament as before, just without his friend.

“Sorry. At least you know what to expect now.”

“And you think that makes me feel better?”

“…yes? You saying you didn't miss me?”

Wolverine shook his head, not wanting to show you his slightly amused face. “I didn't say that, princess.”

The nickname makes you pause, blood rushing to your cheeks. It was nice to hear.

“We’re already on a nickname basis?”

“I can take it back.”

“Oh no, no need, Wolverine.”

“Logan. Rather have you call me by my name if I'm gonna keep coming back here.”

“Who's to say this won't be your last time here?” You asked while getting ready to put the next anomaly to the machine. “Also, I knew your actual name, by the way.” You wiggle the tablet in front of him.

Once again, you were under the impression that Logan wouldn't come back. Except he did the next day. Willingly, as well. Not knocked out or tied up with webs. He just walked through the portal with the other spiders and plopped down in the cage, pouting.

You thought the situation was odd, so you asked Margo to come down for a minute to see if this happened before with other anomalies.

“Oh yeah, all the time.” She said while observing Logan. “Had this Black Cat that kept showing up for a whole month once. There was no glitch, no secret dimensions collapsing. It was weird.”

“Yeah, that's…very weird.”

“You telling me I'm gonna keep showing up here for a month?” Logan asked, obviously not happy about that.

Margo shrugged, “Maybe? It could be much shorter, but we'll have to see.”

She showed you the statistics of Logan's original dimension, and you noticed how everything looked normal. The numbers weren't off, and the citizens were okay. It was nothing to bring up to Miguel that would cause concern.

“Let me out of here then.”

You and Margo glanced at each other, “We can’t. It's against the rules since you're classified as an anomaly.”

Logan huffed, “Didn’t think you were such a rule stickler.”

You weren’t. You didn’t want to upset Miguel. If Logan kept returning, you might as well skip all the rules. At least make him more comfortable until the system got itself together.

You messed with the tablet to let him out. Logan and Margo were shocked at your actions, and the latter quickly pulled you to the side.

“So, you're gonna take the heat, right? If Miguel gets mad at you?”

“He’s not going to get mad.” You paused momentarily, “I don't think.”

“Y'all might be tight, but he won't let this slide.” She looked over your shoulder to watch Logan, who stood by the opened cage, tapping his foot while waiting.

“I got it.”

Your plan was simple: have Logan keep you company until it was time for him to go home. You weren't going to admit to anyone else that it was a task trying to get some of the bigger anomalies in the machine. The spider mechanical legs were hitting their limit, and you didn't want to put them through maintenance, somehow still proving to Miguel that you couldn't handle it.

Margo let you do your thing when you gave Logan his day pass to stop him from glitching until he went home.

“No fancy watch?”

“No, sorry. Keep in mind this is only temporary.”

Logan nodded before searching the premises, “Any booze around here?”

“There’s the spider bar, but it's not open now.”

He let out a short laugh, “Really? A ‘spider’ bar? You’re shitting me, right?”

“Uh, this is coming from the person who rides in a X-Jet.”

You hold back in grinning when he blinked, “Alright, you got me there.”

Logan was a big help in helping you take the anomalies back to their respective dimensions. He hardly complained once you told him you'd grab him a couple of beers from the bar. And he kept you company, which you never thought you needed in this line of work. Working with technology tended to be a solo job. You just got lucky when Miguel noticed you and saw your potential. He helped you grow into the position you are in now. So, in a way, you wanted to prove he didn't put you there for nothing.

However, you felt all that crashing down when Miguel stormed into the room, seeing Logan was out of the enclosure.

“Care to explain why we have an anomaly out and about?”

You held the tablet close to your chest as you tried to devise a good excuse. Despite his rushed actions, you knew Miguel wasn’t upset as his brows weren't creased.

“He’s not out and about. Logan is under my supervision.”

Logan grunted in agreement, downing a beer you rewarded him.

“You know that's not part of protocol.” Miguel said, hands on his hips. The typical leader pose.

“Relax, bub. She's just doing me a solid.” Logan cut in, and you tried to hold in your surprise of how quickly he downed that beer. “By the way, you need to get better beer. This is shit.”

“We've hardly had any complaints from other spiders.”

“For a bunch of guys that can't get drunk, it's really easy to not give a fuck. ”

Miguel’s face twisted in mild annoyance, and you quickly stepped in front of Logan to save him.

“Look, I know I'm breaking some rules here, but this is just until we figure out why he keeps popping up in other dimensions. I'll be careful.”

You strained your neck to look up at him, his eyes searching yours. He was so close to you. His breath brushing along your head, raising your heartbeat. Miguel suddenly backed off, his face a little annoyed, but he'll get over it.

“I trust you.” You relaxed your shoulders, glad he didn't demote you. He then focused his attention on Logan. “Watch yourself.”

Logan scoffed, “What, you think I'm going to steal her from you?”

“You did not just say that.” Your head shot back at him and you could see the amusement on his face.

“Big guy's acting like I'm hogging all the attention.”

Miguel pinched his nose, “Just make sure he gets home.”

You watch him storm off, unsure how you made him upset once again. Actually, it was Logan's fault this time. Yet Miguel didn’t say anything about his comment. It could've been a one-off. He's big on avoiding questions he didn't want to answer.

You decided not to dwell on it.

You jotted down every time Logan came through as an anomaly. It was like a game. You mark the day he comes through that portal, his face in his usual scowl. That quickly fades away once he sees you. You give him a few beers and he continues to complain about how terrible they are. Or how they're not as bad once you give it to him.

Whenever a villain anomaly needs to go back, Logan acts like your bodyguard—standing behind you to assert dominance. To not mess with you. They always intimidated you since you're among the few people in the building without superpowers. And you didn't want to bring that up to Miguel either. Luckily, Logan being there relaxed you.

In fact, despite his aura of not wanting to be messed with, he was delightful to talk to. Easily being engaged in the conversations you two have. There, he knew about your civilian life and how you decided to work at Spider Society to help make a difference. You didn’t expect to be in your current position, but you were grateful for it.

And you knew more about him. Every time an anomaly comes through, you get a dossier. Standard knowledge on whoever needed to get back home. But it never ran any deeper than that. Never gave you additional information about who they were as a person. Logan allowed you to see his other side when he told you about his dark past.

Somehow, you felt closer to him.

Miguel started acting strange whenever Logan was keeping you company. Before, you could count on one hand all the times Miguel came to see you when you started working the Go Home machine. Now, he was there a lot more than usual.

Saying he was checking up on how you're doing. If Logan was giving you any trouble, which the man didn't like that one bit. Making sure you were keeping to the daily quota of sending anomalies away. Playing into his boss role.

“Don’t forget to send me the system checkups before you leave for the day.” You gave him a thumbs up at Miguel’s reminder and said goodbye as he left for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

“I swear to god if he shows up here one more time...”

Logan unleashed one of his claws for emphasis and you got the point.

“He’s just doing his job. He can't have Spider Society start to slack. Otherwise-”

“The multiverse would start collapsing blah, blah, blah.” He grabs another beer, popping off the top with a slice of his claws. “I got it, sweetheart. I can still fucking complain about it though.”

You ignored your heart fluttering whenever Logan gave you nicknames like princess or sweetheart despite his relaxed tone. You found yourself eying his physique while he kept you company—especially those bulging arms. You weren't immune to how a man displayed his strength.

Your stomach churned when you tore your eyes away. You couldn’t be developing a crush on Logan too. You liked Miguel! And what was with you pining over men you never even had a chance with?

Speaking of pining for men you probably couldn’t be with, Miguel was finally free. After saying goodbye to Logan, he sent you a message asking if you were available. This was good; it was an excellent chance to see if your crush on Miguel remained since you two had been apart for a while.

Or maybe it wasn't good because once you walked inside, his face lit up at the sight of you. You hoped he hadn't heard your increased heartbeat.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked while trying to remain calm.

“Yeah. I wanted to see if you could keep me company.” Miguel said, “I've got to sign off on paperwork and you know how much I despise it.”

“Oh yeah.”

You got comfortable on the platform as he raised it, your legs dangling below. Miguel sniffed the air and grimaced at you.

“You smell like him.”

You purse your lips. “Smell like who? Logan?” Miguel grunted and you tried to hold in a laugh. “Well, he has been hanging around me almost every day.”

“I know.” His muscles tense up at the conversation. “I don't like you hanging around with him.”

You tilted your head, “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

Miguel remained silent, signing off on some more paperwork. You wish you had enough strength to knock him upside the head and quit the mysterious act. You'd be very successful, considering the lack of spider sense.

“Mig, how am I supposed to know what's bothering you if you don't tell me?”

You notice his shoulders tensed up more.

“He’s a drunk, too relaxed in his line of work, not serious when it comes to helping you with the machine.”

“He's been fine to me. And you know he can only get drunk, but for so long.”

Miguel sucked his teeth, brows furrowed. “He flirts with you.”

You wave him away, “It's harmless.”

“Not to me.” He's looking at you now. Serious. “He may have some underlying intentions.”

“What?” You start laughing, desperate to make this conversation feel like a joke. “Like he wants to get in my pants?” Miguel nodded to solidify it. “You know I'm a grown adult, right?”

“I'm only saying this as-” He paused as if he’s trying to figure out the right words, “as your friend. I know how men are.”

“So do I. I'm trying to understand what you gain in telling me this.”

“I don't gain anything. I'm looking out for you.”

“Bullshit.”

You wanted to leave his lab now. Miguel saying that too only made your crush on Logan even worse. Your mind now realizing that there's a possibility Logan likes you, but you were frustrated since you were so close to saying to Miguel that you like him. Just to see what he would say.

You grab his remote to the platform, lowering it to his surprise. You had to walk away and calm yourself down.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“It's getting late and I should go home.”

You try to step off, but Miguel’s in front of you, panic in his eyes. “Don’t leave.”

“You were trying to convince me that another guy I've been around only wants to get with me. For what reason? Because you’re my friend? Don't play with me, Miguel.”

You try to go past him, but he's quick, taking your hand and spinning you around. You almost fall against his chest, but he keeps you upright, looking up at him with confused eyes.

“I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you angry at me. I just-” Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, words at the tip of his tongue. You don't say anything, waiting for him to say what he wanted to say. “I'm only saying this because I…I have feelings for-”

“Miggy!” Lyla called from above his shoulder, “We just got information back on-oh.” She noticed the two of you. “Oh no, was I interrupting something?”

“Yes.”

“No!” You quickly pull your hand away from Miguel’s. “He was just seeing me off. I'll head out now.”

Miguel called your name, “Don't go yet.”

“It's alright! I don't want to take you away from work.” You say goodnight to the two of them, booking it out of his lab.

Was he about to confess?

Confess what? That he liked you? It was absurd. Impossible. Miguel didn’t want you that way. At least you thought. Yet, when you came in the following day, he barely looked at you. He only said a simple good morning before continuing his leadership duties.

If he liked you, then why was he avoiding you? None of it made sense and you were trying to figure it out.

“You alright?” Logan asked, taking you out of your thoughts. You’ve been staring at the list of anomalies to send home for the day.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

You proceeded to get rid of your confusion about the man that was Miguel O’Hara by bringing up the next anomaly. Logan doesn’t accept your words when he placed a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t know about that. The big guy didn’t stop by today to annoy the hell out of me, so something’s up.”

You grimace, thinking about the conversation last night. Would it be okay to tell Logan what Miguel told you? As you’re aware, your crush for the hero with the metal claws was blooming too. You thought you were handling it relatively well compared to your one with Miguel. Maybe it’s because deep down inside, he might be right about Logan when it came to you.

“It’s stupid now that I’m thinking about everything.”

“Well?” He folded his arms, waiting for you to continue.

“We got into a disagreement last night. Miguel thinks that you’re being so flirty to me because you want to have sex with me.”

Logan sharply laughed. You tried not to let his apparent amusement sting your heart.

“Somebody’s jealous.”

You shake your head, “That’s not jealousy. He said it was out of concern.”

“And you believed him?” Your silence told everything Logan needed to know, making him chuckle once more. “I get it. You’ve seen yourself, princess?”

“I-huh?”

“You heard me. You’re not bad to look at. I’m surprised he’s taking so long to confess to you.” Logan struts over to you, your back against the console. He’s not trapping you, but the distance was closer than what you two have had before. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“And how does he look at me?”

Logan’s eyes were filled with want as he traced your body. You didn't want to admit how much it was turning you on.

“He looks at you the way I am now.”

You bit your lip, holding in a rising smile. You just received an indirect confession from a hero from another dimension. And an unspoken one from another hero in your universe. You can’t believe it.

“He doesn’t look at me that way.” You try to shut it down and not get ecstatic at the idea of two men pining over you.

“Wanna bet?” Logan gets closer to you now. You allow him, taking in hints of the whiskey you were able to swing him from the bar. “Kiss me. See how he acts then.”

You let out a surprise snort. “Like he’s watching us right now.”

“You think he isn’t?”

You purse your lips, knowing it’s not uncommon for Miguel not to watch over areas of Spider Society to make sure everything runs smoothly, including your space. Logan lets you make the move, your hands moving along his yellow suit, feeling his pectorals. His dark eyes watch you intensely when you slide up to his neck, draping your arms around it. His gloved hands rest on your sides and it unironically makes you shiver. It's the most interaction you’ve gotten in a while.

“Go for it, sweetheart.”

So you kiss him. The taste of alcohol on his lips incites you further. Your body pressed along his to feel more of his body. Logan’s hands map out your sides as if he doesn’t want to touch you further than he is already.

That’s when a rush of air goes by you. Logan is gone, his body against the wall, cracks forming around where he landed. Miguel’s imposing frame towers over him, arm tight on his neck, keeping him there.

“Guess I was right.” Logan strained, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh yeah? And I was right about you. Wanting to fuck her.”

“Before you could?”

Miguel growled, his hold on Logan getting tighter. “You really want to do this?”

“Buddy, I’ve been wanting to kick your sorry ass since the day we’ve met.” Logan’s claws unsheathed and panic started to set in. You did not want them to fight right here.

“Hold on, can we just take a minute to-”

They weren’t listening to you when Miguel was flown back, slamming into a console. The electricity slightly glitched his suit as he gathered his bearings, eyes on Logan the entire time. The Wolverine crouched, arms out wide in his battle stance. Miguel’s mask was up, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Guys, please don't do this. I don't wanna see you two get hurt-”

You took cover behind a console as they started to fight. Bits and pieces of technology flown everywhere. Strands of Miguel’s webs on the side. Marks from Logan’s claws all over. Bits of blood staining the floor and you weren't sure who it belonged to.

To say you were scared was the wrong word to use. Because you weren't, despite your head filled with your fast-paced heartbeat. Oddly, you were flattered.

After all this time of thinking you weren't the person Miguel wanted, the person Logan was into changed in a moment. They were fighting over you. You.

You liked it but didn’t want them to kill each other over it.

“Lyla?” You called the AI, who showed up in an instant.

“Hang on, I'm getting several system failures from the Go Home machine-oh my god.”

“Yeah. Can I get some help in here, please?”

Not long after, the men were separated. Some spiders held Miguel back while Logan had to be locked up once again to calm down. All of your coworkers were shocked at the destruction those two caused.

“Uhh what happened?” Jess asked Miguel, who didn’t say anything. He brushed by her to cool off. So she asked you, and you tried to come up with an answer that didn't sound weird.

“Miguel and Logan just had a misunderstanding.”

She pointed to the torn-up console that was currently being repaired, “How is that a result of a misunderstanding?”

You shrugged, struggling to say something cohesive. “I don't know. It's like I blinked and they started trying to tear each other’s throats out.” Because of you, but you didn’t add that part.

Jess rubbed her temples, “Alright. I'll talk to Miguel later. Are you okay, though? They didn't get you, right?”

“I'm fine.” You show her that there wasn’t a scratch on you. “Is it okay if I leave early though?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

You decided to stay home after that day—more out of embarrassment than anything. No one at Spider Society probably knew about the reason Miguel and Logan were fighting yesterday. Well, Jess might, but not anyone else. It felt embarrassing because you secretly liked it. Two incredible men in their respective fields want you, a random citizen.

You didn’t say a word to them when you left, so you couldn’t leave them high and dry.

That’s why you called Lyla, giving her instructions to have Logan stay until the end of the day if he showed up again and to call Miguel back to the Go Home machine around the same time. You needed to get yourself ready for what you wanted to say.

Time went by so fast for you.

It did not give you enough time to properly rehearse or to calm the anxiety stuck in your throat. Your shower went on forever, and you were sure you sat in your room for almost an hour trying to figure out the clothes you would wear as if you needed to woo them more than you’d already had.

You steeled yourself when walking into Spider Society, settling on a simple hoodie and jeans. You could barely hear yourself think as a few spiders greeted you, some asking why you weren’t here today. You didn’t have much time to talk, so you used an example of taking a mental health day. Because you absolutely needed it.

That’s when you walked to the machine room and saw Logan there, just as you expected. Margo was there too, and she was showing him how to play one of her favorite mobile games, which involved slashing fruit.

“Hey.”

Miguel appeared beside you, almost scaring you. “Oh geez, hey.”

“Are you…did you want to-?”

“Hey, hey!” Margo interrupted, greeting you with a wave. “I heard you were sick.”

“I took a mental health day.” You explained, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

“It’s alright.” She waved it off, “I was playing games with this guy all day.” Margo motioned to Logan, who didn’t say anything, folding his arms.

“Go home. I’ll take Logan back for you.”

You can see Margo wanting to question it despite hearing you needed a mental break. But there was an unknown tenseness in the air, and she was a smart girl.

“Uh, okay. See ya, Logan. Bye bye, boss.” Her avatar dissipated, leaving you three alone.

“You alright?” Logan asked to cut the silence.

“I'm fine.” You reassured.

“Are you sure?” Miguel stepped closer to you, “A lot happened that day, and part of it was my fault.”

“Don’t hog all of the blame.” Logan grunted, “It was my fault too.”

“You're both okay.” You reached over and took one of their hands, squeezing them affectionately. “I just didn't want you two to kill each other.”

“Like he would've tried.”

Miguel side-eyed Logan momentarily, “I could've given different circumstances.”

“Sure, bub.”

“Okay!” You focus their attention on you, not wanting to cause another fight. “I wanted you two here to address the giant elephant in the room.” Their intense eyes on you make you a little nervous, sweat clinging to the nape of your neck. You weren't sure what their reactions were going to be. If, after all of this, you needed to find a new job.

“I like you, " you say to Miguel. A light flickers in his crimson eyes, and you notice him trying to hold back a smile.

“I like you too.”

That confirmation boosts your confidence a little.

You then turn to Logan, “I like you too.”

“You're not too bad yourself.” He casually said. “Don’t know how the big guy is gonna take it.”

“I'm right here.” Miguel scowled at him before focusing on you. “What are you trying to say?”

“What I'm saying is…I want you both.”

It was a big risk saying something like that to both of them. None of them appeared to want to share their partner with another. Unless it's under specific guidelines. You didn't have any, but you knew how you felt. And if they didn't agree, maybe you were better off not being with anyone.

Miguel appeared to be hesitant, while Logan was hardly phased. “Not the first time I've had this offer.”

“It's different, but I know what I feel for you two is real. And I'm open to trying.”

The gears are turning in Miguel’s mind as he’s thinking it over, his hand never leaving yours.

“Okay. I'll try for you.”

You shimmied with joy, pulling both of them in for a hug. You felt their hard bodies and tried not to focus on how different they were from your own. There were many rules you probably needed to set, but for now, you wanted to take it as is.

When pulling back, you stopped short between the two of them. Miguel captured your attention by turning your head towards him with his index finger.

“Can I kiss you?”

You darted down to his lips before nodding. Miguel quickly captured your lips with his. You thought your kiss with him would be gentle and light. Instead, you felt the desperation of finally being able to taste you after all this time. His groans resonated across your ears, letting you know how much he wanted you.

Miguel kissed you so much that you felt dizzy when parting, but Logan's chuckle brought you back to reality.

“Was he better than me?”

Miguel sucked his teeth when you pretended to ponder, “I think I need another reminder.”

Logan kissed you, parting your lips to slip his tongue inside. He also groans in your mouth, a steady hand on your hip. You had to grip Miguel’s shoulder to keep balance when you parted again, also dazed.

“Well?”

“It's about the same.”

The two men groaned simultaneously, hoping you would say which one was better.

“You look pretty like this.”

“For once, I agree with him.”

That's when they began their journey of your body. Logan latched on to your neck, kissing and sucking on it while Miguel peppered your face with kisses, managing to capture your lips a few more times. They lingered on their respective sides, caressing your breasts, fingers tracing down your back, groping your ass.

Logan took over momentarily, your back against his chest while he sucked on your neck again. Miguel’s kisses on your lips silenced whatever escaped from your own. Their movement were picking up in speed, and you faltered trying to keep up with them.

“Fuck.” Logan paused, sniffing the air. “You smell delicious.”

You started getting flustered, “What? Don't tell me you can…” You squeezed your thighs together.

“I can smell you too.” Miguel sniffed, his being a bit more discreet.

This was about to be a problem. If you didn't say anything, you were sure clothes would be thrown all over the consoles. You didn’t need yet another scandal in the Go Home machine.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

That's how you managed two superheroes in your apartment. Two horny ones at that. Some part of you wanted to pinch yourself to wake up from a dream. The way their eyes stared you down, blown from lust, standing so close to you that you could feel their body heat. But this was real.

“If any of you guys are uncomfortable-”

“If we were uncomfortable,” Miguel started, unzipping your hoodie and tossing it to the side. " We would've said it, right?”

Logan grunted, coming around from behind and raising your arms. He pulled your shirt off in one motion, leaving you in your bra.

“You okay with this, princess?

His whispering made goosebumps form on your skin. “Obviously, since I started all of this.”

“Just checking.”

Logan picked you up, angling you in a way that allowed Miguel to remove your shoes and jeans. When he settled you down, Miguel wanted to admire more of your exposed skin. His fingers circled along your plush thighs. Logan's centered along your breasts, pushing them up against your bra and making you sigh in relief.

You didn't want to get too caught up in your pleasure, noticing the guys still had on their suits. You reach over to Miguel, feeling his chest to see how to remove the suit, but he stopped you with his hand on top of yours.

“I got it.”

With his watch, his suit is gone. Only leaving him in his boxers.

Logan grumbled, “Show off.”

You turn around, your back against Miguel’s chest. You felt his lips on your neck as you went to help Logan with his suit. Having a little difficulty with the multiple kisses he gave you on your lips, forehead, and cheeks. He helped you by guiding your hands to his zipper. As you pull it down, Logan pressed against you, practically sandwiched between two half-naked, bulky guys. Who couldn't stop kissing and touching you.

Your hands brushed along their hairy chests, noting how Miguel’s was softer than Logan's coarse strands. Suddenly, you were being picked up and laid flat on your comforter.

Both men were on each side of you, the bed slightly creaking from the extra weight.

“Whoever breaks my bed is gonna pay for it.”

Logan tsked, “Say that to money bags over there.”

“I'll take responsibility and get you a better one if it happens.” Miguel reassured you.

As they spoke, your bra was removed with one hand by Logan. Your panties were pulled down and thrown away by Miguel. Cold air hitting your cunt told you exactly how wet you were, aching for more.

“I'm eating her out. Since you stole my kiss.”

Miguel told Logan, who scowled, clearly not happy about it. But got over it once his lips trailed down to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth. Miguel matched him, latching on to your other breast. His hands trailed down your stomach and to your aching cunt. You felt him falter when his middle finger went in your soaked hole.

Logan wrapped his arm around your thigh, spreading you wider for Miguel to continue pumping into you. You were having a hard time keeping quiet between Miguel lazily pumping two fingers into you while Logan was determined to create marks on your skin. Hands tangled into their hair, tugging on it occasionally to replace your moans. The action spurs them on even further.

Miguel trailed his lips down, across your stomach, appreciating the fat you have and running his tongue along your naval. So slow. So agonizingly slow. He gives you mercy by continuing his journey down, kissing on your inner thighs. Logan maneuvered so he was behind you again, your head resting comfortably along his chest while you were spread wide for Miguel. He’s hovered above your aching cunt, eyes glazed over at the sight of you.

“Let me know how she tastes.” Logan said while nudging into your head. His large hands cupped your breasts.

Miguel groaned against your sex when he dived in. His tongue parted your folds, his lips closing in to suck on your clit. There was no point in being quiet anymore, you moaning loudly as Miguel ate you out. One hand slid down his curls, creating a solid grip that could pull his hair out. Logan wasn’t missing out as he continued to massage your breasts, his beard scratching along your face. You grip the nape of his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss. Tongues dancing amongst each other.

You were getting double the attention. Your body heating up at the pleasure. Miguel groaned against your drenched cunt, not stopping once to take a breather. He made sure your legs remained spread with his hands holding you down.

Even Logan didn’t let you try and move to escape your impending climax. Your breaths picked up, your lips wavering against his, your eyes rolling back. Miguel kept going as your body exploded with immense ecstasy. Your cries being a work of art and an indication of how good both of them made you feel.

You felt like you were floating as they kept prolonging your orgasm. Miguel lapping at your sex and Logan pinching your nipples.

“That means I can fuck her, right?”

It was Miguel’s turn to scowl at Logan. “No. I’m already in this position anyway.”

“But you got to taste her. Now, I get to fuck her.” Logan proceeded to move you around, but Miguel stopped him with a hand on your ankle.

“No way.”

“Guys…” You mumble, slowly gathering your bearings. You feel eyes on you when you roll over to the nightstand, pulling out your box of condoms. You toss them to Logan before giving Miguel a sympathetic look.

“Next time, okay?”

Before he could express his opinion, you crawl over to him, tracing your fingers around the lining of his boxers. You wiggle your ass and glance back at Logan, permitting him to pounce on you. You notice the apparent tent in Miguel’s boxers before pulling them down. His cock was huge with a slight curve, pre cum leaking from his tip. You make kitten licks around his lip as Logan gripped your hips, his cock rubbing against your ass cheeks.

He sunk into you, causing you to shiver in ecstasy. You moan against Miguel’s shaft, licking up and down. His hand had a gentle grip on your nape as he watched you.

“Tan bonita, nena (So pretty, baby)…”

You whimper when Logan slid out of you before thrusting back inside. The thrusts strong enough to have you jolt against Miguel’s cock.

“Fuck me…” Logan grunted, creating a delicate rhythm with his hips. “You feel…oh fuck…”

You moan while taking Miguel in your mouth. You try to take as much as you could while stroking the rest, matching the rhythm Logan created. His grip on your hips get stronger as well as Miguel’s on your neck.

A symphony was conducted in the bedroom. Your moans blended in with Miguel and Logan’s, who were the main stars. Their grunts and groans as they filled you up on both ends played well with each other. All you could do was take it, drool seeping down Miguel’s cock, creating more lubrication for you to stroke.

Logan’s grunts change pitch, getting deeper. His thrusts were getting disorganized, desperate to reach his peak. Miguel was on the same end. His hips push forward in your mouth, not enough to make you choke. Both of his hands are on your neck now, creating a faster rhythm to finish.

You wondered who was going to finish first.

“I’m about to…” Miguel warned you, ready to pull out, only for you to keep him there, still sucking his soul out.

“S-So am I-” Logan’s grunts turn to outright whines when he comes, latching on to your hips. Miguel isn’t too far behind when after a few more thrusts, his cum coat your throat. You swallow it all, not missing a single drop.

As Logan pulled out of you, Miguel moved you to rest your head, his bicep under it. Your hand grazing Logan’s chest when he lies beside you, capturing your breaths, allowing the space to reach a comfortable silence.

You tried not to let your thoughts wander to what would happen next. If all of this would be a one-time thing and everything would go back to normal tomorrow, you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“I…” Miguel spoke against your head, “I thought we’d go on a few dates before this happened.”

You snickered, “We can still go on dates. Since this is going to be serious, right?”

“Right.” He kissed your forehead.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the aquarium.” You then smack Logan’s chest to capture his attention. He was on the verge of falling asleep. “Hey, you wanna go to the aquarium one day?”

“Anything you wanna do, I’ll do too.” He said with a short shrug. “Just give me a heads-up first.”

“Got it.”

Getting an overwhelming sense of gratitude, you gently kiss Miguel’s lips before leaning over to do the same to Logan. Your heart was whole and ready for this new chapter in your life.

Tags: @ghost-lantern @monarchberrysblog