#holy sHIT THIS TOOK A WHILE AND IS WAY LONGER THAN I THOUGHT

[tardis--dreams]

I wish i could get buproprion without a prescription this shit is way too good to give up ㅠㅠ

[lilgoblinbitch]

Electricity𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 (part 2 of Gossip)

rick grimes x fem!reader

part one here

a/n: well holy shit, this took way longer than i had originally expected it to take. life has been crazy for me. thank you all for being patient with me!

summary: days pass, and rick is still mysterious. until finally, you discover his true feelings toward you in the best way possible.

content: smut PinV, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, oral (fem receiving), fingering, rough!rick, friends to lovers, heavy teasing, multiple orgasms, angst, some fluff at the end

18+ ONLY, mdni.

wc: 4.4k

Your heart was almost palpitating. You were left stranded with your thoughts spinning around in your head while Rick just nonchalantly strode off back to his bedroom. 

The whole night you could barely get any sleep; your mind apparently had other plans –  mainly entailing you ruminating over what had happened that night. It boggled you how Rick effortlessly admitted to being aware of your little crush on him, completely catching you off guard and leaving you overwhelmed and flustered. You were forced to forget about the whole situation, or at the very best push it to the back of your mind for…later – whenever “later” was.

The next few days were nothing out of the ordinary. Rick was barely at the house, busy adjusting to his new constable responsibilities and becoming familiar with the rest of the Alexandrians. You knew he had a duty to uphold, so it was reasonable for him to avoid your presence for the time being, but your mind was still fogged up from what he had said to you that night. It was eating you up for the next few slumbers; you tossed and turned until eventually the thoughts wore your brain out and let you get a few hours of shut eye. Regardless, you tried to forget it altogether throughout the daytime and focus on becoming more comfortable living in a brand new community, and a brand new house that was bigger than any house you’d ever lived in. 

Carl didn’t stay inside for long throughout the day. You’d always find his room empty and his comic books gone. That meant he was most likely reading them outside and sharing them with his new friends. But you were happy for him; the kid deserved to make friends after everything he’d been through. So you were left with baby Judy most days, but that didn’t bother you. Before the world turned you had two younger siblings, and as a teen you were always stuck babysitting them when your parents went out. It was second nature to you now.

Today you decided to get out of the house and find something to do. You hated staying indoors — you were always an outdoorsy person and got antsy pretty quickly without a daily dose of sunshine. You stepped outside with Judith on your hip, taking in the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze that swayed the various trees in perfect rhythm. Without a doubt, the weather was inviting. So, naturally, you choose to embrace it and take a stroll down the street with little Judy in your arms.

As you made your way down the block with Judith cooing and spinning her curious head around to view her surroundings, you reached the end of it and turned the corner. You recalled how Vivian and Shannon lived in one of the houses on the block you were walking down. A quick drop-in to see what they were up to couldn’t hurt. Besides, Shannon was a kindergarten teacher before the fall and therefore loved watching over Judith with you. 

“Hey, Y/N!”

You spun around and noticed a tall brunette man walking toward you. It was Spencer Monroe, son of Deanna Monroe — the community’s leader. And, according to Vivian and Shannon, he had a thing for you. Not that you had anything against it, but it did make you feel a bit uneasy knowing he was interested in you and would probably try to make a move on you, now that he was standing in front of you. Regardless, you played it cool; he was Deanna’s son after all, so it could be beneficial to you if you gave your absolute best impression. 

“Oh, hey, Spencer!” You smiled sweetly at the tall man, who reeked of a musty cologne. It wasn’t awfully foul, just a bit too loud for your taste. A slight turn off.

He grinned down at you and Judith, scratching the back of his neck anxiously while shuffling closer to you. He was about two feet away from you — if he were any closer you’d definitely be backing up. 

“I was actually just about to come over to you and ask if you wanted to have dinner tonight?” He squinted his eyes at you, trying to read your face. Your cheeks were tickled pink and your heart was doing laps in your chest. It was as if Judith could sense your unease, and on cue she started fussing. 

“I–” You paused, gathering your thoughts together while calming the distressed child. Shit. What should you say? 

“Yeah! I would love to, Spencer.” Way to go.

On the walk home Judith started to calm down, while you did the exact opposite. Your thoughts were racing again, and you cursed yourself for obliging to Spencer’s request. What the hell were you getting yourself into? You didn’t even like Spencer; yeah, he was attractive, but he just wasn’t…well, he wasn’t Rick Grimes. Still, there remained a sense of determination – getting to know Spencer could be a good thing. Besides, you didn’t really have any plans for that evening anyway.

Once you finally reached the comfort of your house, you put Judy in her room for a nap and started rummaging through your closet for something to wear. You doubted you would find anything spectacular, considering you didn’t exactly have a boutique in this community. A simple floral dress would do. 

“Geez… when was the last time I wore any type of heeled shoe?” You humored yourself, attempting to walk around in the sleek open-toed heels you found in your closet. You recalled how Shannon lended you a few pairs from her own closet, stating that she was overwhelmed by how many abandoned pairs of high heels were left in the world, and apparently her closet housed dozens of them. Lucky for you. 

Once you were confident enough you wouldn’t lose your balance in the shoes, you took a long look in the full-length mirror and admired how, for a lack of a better word – decent you looked. Excluding Deanna’s welcoming party, you hadn’t worn a dress since before. It would definitely take some getting used to. 

Before you were able to get one last gander at yourself in the mirror, something – or rather someone – interrupted you.

“Got plans for tonight?”

You jumped in your skin and spun around. You were met with a wide set of eyes scaling your body, taking in the elegant view before him. You were stunning, and he couldn’t deny it even if he wished to. 

“Jesus, Rick! You really have a way of scaring the shit out of me.” You smiled nervously while flattening out your dress. He watched you like a hawk, and of course he was aware of how antsy you were. That was like his superpower. You cleared your throat, ensuring your voice didn’t crack. “Yeah, I’m uh… going on a date…”

His sharp blue eyes made harsh contact with yours, locking you into place. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, sad, disappointed, or all three. Or maybe he didn’t care. Then again, Rick’s face was almost impossible for you to decipher. 

He remained leaning against the doorframe, eyes never leaving you. You were not enjoying the deathly silence. Until he finally spoke again.

“A date?”

“With Spencer… Deanna’s son.” Your eyes regrettably met his once more. “But it’s nothing serious, really—”

“Thought you didn’t like him… had someone else on your mind, right?” His tone was biting, almost taunting. You frowned, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“Maybe I lied, Rick. Maybe I think he’s cute now. Besides, I already said it wasn’t anything serious.” You grabbed a jacket out of the closet, slung it over your back and slipped it on. “And I don’t know why you care so much, or why you had to eavesdrop on me, but I’ve got to go now.”

And with that you whisked past the brooding man and out the room, exiting the house. Rick knew you were suppressing your genuine feelings; it was almost too conspicuous. He just knew you too well. Knowing someone for a few years in a post-apocalyptic world was like knowing someone in the previous world for ten or even twenty years; your group grew close very quickly. Inevitably, in fact – death and grieving, fighting and surviving; it all brought you closer together. You were part of a strong network of survivors, ones who shared immense trust in one another. 

But when it came to Rick, it was hard to truly understand his emotions. He felt the obligation to suppress his feelings, as well – as if he wasn’t sure when it’d be the right time to make a move with you. Now and again, you’ve encountered a handful of times where he was staring at you – and perhaps your behind – for longer than any other person would deem normal. But he never displayed an interest in getting with you. That was ultimately a grey area to you for a while, and even still now.

⋆｡° ✮

One thing about Spencer was that he could cook. And you were a sucker for men cooking; you found it to be attractive. So he cooked for you, he was tall, and he was cute… what, then, was missing from the list? What was hindering you from making yourself available and willing to this man?

“I have someone else on my mind.”

You reflected back to the night you said that. From then on, those words were ingrained in the back of your brain. They reminded you each day that your feelings for Rick were perpetual and infecting your thoughts like a plague.

For now, you were preoccupied with how satisfying your meal was. As was the wine. It was going to your head a bit — an all too familiar feeling. You just hoped Rick wasn’t awake by the time you returned home. 

“Thank you, Spencer. The dinner was really nice,” You simpered while graciously stepping out the door. 

Spencer held the door open, giving you a warm smile as he watched you turn to face him whilst under the gleaming porch light. “You sure you don’t need me to walk you home? It’s really no issue for me at all.”

The look on his face told you he sure as hell wasn’t ready for you to leave yet — in fact, with the way he had planned the night, he most likely expected to not only wine and dine, but get lucky tonight. However you had your boundaries and your relationship standards, regardless of the fact that there were very slim pickings when it came to finding the ‘right person’; practically ninety percent of the human population was wiped out. 

“I promise. I just live around the corner.”

At last you arrived home, immediately kicking your heels off as you shut the door behind you. You made a mental note to never wear heels again – blisters were already appearing on your feet. You winced as you massaged the reddened tender skin, sighing in relief as your aching feet finally got to breathe and stretch. 

“It’s late.”

You nearly had a heart attack as you stood up and spotted Rick a few feet away from you by the couch. “Would you quit startling me all the time? And yeah, no dip, I was on a date with Spencer. I already told you that, Rick.”

You steadied your heart rate and made your way over to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. All while you did so, you could feel Rick’s eyes burning into you. Every inch of your body. You shivered when the chill of the fridge air engulfed you – however, you were sure the shiver was truly from the effect that Rick had on you. 

“I know that. But you’re back late; it’s dark outside,” He paced toward you, his demeanor now more watchful and severe. “There’s a curfew, Y/N.” He was much closer to you now, to the point where you smelled his classic rainy forest scent encompassing your nostrils. 

“Well, I didn’t know. I was asked to have dinner with someone, and it happened to be really good, actually – thank you for asking,” You gibed while filling your cup up with crisp, filtered water. “But, I am sorry. Won’t happen again, Officer!” You quipped, taking a sip from the cup. The water was a refreshing blanket against your tongue and throat, which you thoroughly savored.

Rick didn’t look very pleased with your response, to say the least. His posture was stiff, and his eyes narrowed as he tilted his head. “You think this is a joke, I get it. It sounds like another pipe dream. But if we’re going to be living and staying here, you’re gonna need to follow the rules.”

You set the glass down and ran a hand through your slightly knotted hair, giving your scalp a terse massage with your fingers. Your eyes fixated on Rick, who was towering over you like a bodyguard would. If it were any other man you would feel uncomfortable in this position – backed into the kitchen counter and being scolded by a harrowing, authoritative man. In this case, you were too fond of the man in front of you to feel uncomfortable or threatened in any way. 

“I get it – I know. I want this place to work, just as much as you do,” you added, displaying a poker face to confirm your sincerity. You ran a hand up and down Rick’s forearm, over his veins that protruded as he leaned against the counter in front of you. “I want this to work for the kids. They deserve it.”

Rick didn’t flinch. His eyes bored deep into your own – pupils dilated, taking in your presence. Instinctively, almost like his body was on autopilot – Rick’s hand caressed the side of your face, thumb tracing circles along your cheek. Goosebumps ran down your arms and made the hairs on the back of your neck perk up like a porcupine. Just one touch from this man had you melting like butter.

Time slowed down drastically. Your eyes locked into his, and vice versa. Only inches of space separated you two; you felt the familiar pounding in your chest as Rick drew himself closer and closer. Those romance movies you used to watch were accurate, in the sense that what you were feeling in this moment was butterflies, fireworks – so electrifying. You could feel the sparks race through your body.

Rick felt it, too. He’d been denying it for too long – what he was feeling deep down, within his subconscious, was something authentic. Something that he could no longer evade from his mind.

“You’re on my mind, too.”

It was like an echo coursing through your soul. Those five words left you stunned, mouth slightly agape, but Rick took that chance to collapse his lips onto yours. The longing you had for this man was no longer unrequited – you finally got your answer. He wanted you, and you wanted him. 

His lips were velvety and you took your time giving extra love to them. Soon enough the kiss got heated; you were lifted up onto the counter where Rick wasn’t shy to roam his hands along your thighs, earning a few feeble whimpers from you. 

His lips then attacked your shoulder and collarbone with a series of hickeys, earning more vocal whines from you now. “Rick…”

He quickly hushed you, shoving two fingers into your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, baby,” he cooed, admiring how your tongue caressed his fingers so magnetically. Your eyes pleaded with him – begged for more. “They won’t see those—” he eyed the now reddened area of skin, “Jus’ don’t dress like a slut and you’ll be alright.”

In your mind you wanted to blurt out a well-deserved retort, however, in all honesty, Rick meant it in the best way. 

“Too special to be showing off this figure to all them boys, sweetheart.” He bent down to worship your thighs, spreading them open for him to kiss and prod at.

He was right, though – Spencer wouldn’t be able to make you feel this way. You knew it deep down.

You bit your lip harshly, suppressing any vocal responses for the time being – didn’t need the kids to hear any of this. But Rick was just too good at whatever it was he was doing to you.

“Need you, Rick,” You whined – which ultimately translated to a strained moan.

“Shh, Shh. I know you do,” he cooed, standing back up. He let his fingers trace over your closed cunt, the dampness leaking through the thin fabric and leaving a sticky coat on his digits. Your hands explored his curls, tugging at them the more he teased you. “Gotta be patient, though. Gonna take my sweet time with you.”

You were becoming antsy, bucking your hips into his palm, searching for friction. He slid his other hand up your dress, the contact of his hand greeting your hardened nipple caused you to shiver. His ocean eyes observed you – adoring the glow of your skin under the faded moonlight seeping into the room.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Stop talking and just take me upstairs, officer,” You huffed out, earning a small smirk from Rick. You wrapped your arms and legs tight around him, moaning quietly when your heat unexpectedly made contact with his own clothed member, which was already rock hard. You left a trail of kisses along his neck as he carried you up the stairs, groping your ass in one hand. 

Rick wasted absolutely no time in slipping your dress up and over your shoulders, practically ripping the fabric as he did so. You attempted to cover up your breasts, but he pried away your hands. 

“Nuh uh, let me see,” he protested, taking the round flesh in his hands and kneading them. You blushed, clearly shy; but Rick reminded you of your beauty nonetheless through his actions.

One thing Rick always loved about you was your patience and loyalty; you were coined as the group’s dependable and candid guardian, because anytime anyone needed a word of advice or a listening ear you’d never fail to do so. 

Currently, Rick admired how patient you were while he went to work on your sweet pussy – lapping up all your sweet juices after tearing off your drenched panties.

“Mmph, Rick!” You wailed, eyes flickering shut as a wave of euphoria washed over your body.

He was eating you out like you were the Last Supper, and he was a starved peasant. Your cunt was his god and he was there to serve it. 

You wrapped your legs around his shoulders, toes curling in delight as his digits switched positions with his tongue, pumping in and out of your soaking heat. He pressed his tongue flat on your pulsing clit, heightening your pleasure to the max. 

“F-fuck me!” You cried out, hips jutting forward to meet the pace of his fingers and tongue. Pressure was building deep in your core.

Without notice Rick paused his movements, leaning forward to connect his panting mouth with your own, stifling your moans. His kisses were sloppy, as were yours. He continued his pace, eventually focusing on your clit which throbbed under the determined motion of his thumb. Then he slipped three digits back into your drenched cunt, accelerating the pace he was going at before. He curled the fingers upward, pushing against that sacred spot in your hole that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Gonna cum on my fingers, hm? Gonna be a good whore f’me?” He taunted. Rick’s eyes were dark and blown out with lust. You were shuddering under him, on the brink of orgasm. 

“Ohh! Fuuuck!” You let the band in your gut snap, feeling the pressure inside release and your dripping arousal coating Rick’s fingers. 

He aided you in riding out the rest of your earth-shattering climax, pumping his digits a few more times before sliding them out. The sight before him had Rick holding himself back with every ounce of his inner strength – your cunt was a sopping, wet mess. 

Rick sat you up properly, hovering over you and holding his fingers above your lips. “Taste, baby.” 

You gingerly sucked on his fingers, the juices spilling onto your tongue; an almost nectary taste. He eyed the way you drank up every last drop, licking his lips in anticipation. After pulling his fingers from your lips he kissed you again, this time much softer. You both moaned into the kiss, and eventually when Rick broke away you took a moment to catch your breath. He licked his lips, admiring how fucked out you looked just from foreplay.

“Can’t wait to feel you,” He rasped. Your legs were still weak and wobbly from your latest orgasm, yet, your body ached for more. For him.

Soft whimpers left your pouted lips when you felt his rough hands grasp your thighs, pushing them upward until they were folded up against your tummy. Rick hastily threw off his white t-shirt and let out a low growl as he freed his aching cock from his boxers. You bit your lip – it was girthy, and you knew it was going to do some damage tonight. That only made you wetter.

He stroked himself before lining himself up with your entrance. He slid his dick against your slick folds, huffing and groaning from the contact. You whined, unable to handle the teasing he was putting you through. 

“Rick, please—”

“Said I was gonna take my time,” He retorted in a rigid tone, and you gulped in response. “So, be patient.”

The only thing you could do at that moment was bite your lip and prepare for your cunt to be stuffed by this man’s cock. It was an odd thing to consider – being best friends with someone and flipping that platonic relationship into something more explicit, just through the simple act of gossipping. At the end of the day, you were getting fucked by a man who was not only your closest friend, but the leader of your community. It almost felt taboo, and yet you just couldn’t care less at that moment.

Seconds felt like minutes, the teasing was just too much. Rick kept playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves, only slightly pushing in the tip. Your core was on fire, pleading desperately for him to tame it. 

The sight before him was almost pitiful. You were caught in a fit of heavy breathing and whimpering, legs wrapping tight around his waist as you rocked your hips closer to him, cunt still glistening with arousal that seeped onto his pink tip. 

So, Rick pitied you. And you got your wish; his cock sunk into you, all the way until he bottomed out. You scrunched up your face in slight discomfort – he was bigger than you had anticipated. Nevertheless, you sighed in satisfaction, clawing at his back and shoulders as he adjusted inside you.

“Fuck, Y/n,” He growled, nibbling on your ear. His warm breath caused your body to shiver. “You just– can’t be patient no more, can ya?”

Your mind was clouded – all thoughts halted as your body was being governed by Rick. He rocked into you with ease, back and forth, in and out. His cock fit into your hole like a glove. Your legs caged him in; it was as if you were afraid he’d slip away and tease you again. It just felt so good you didn’t want it to stop.

Your lewd cries were soon muffled by Rick’s hand. “Shhh, gotta be quieter, sweetheart.” But it was nearly impossible to stay quiet when he was doing you so well.

With his hand then shifting down to lightly grasp your neck, Rick slammed into you, pulling all the way out only to repeat the motion again. You bit your lip hard, drawing blood. The pain didn’t exist in any way, since your body was so engrossed in the electric sensation that was being fed to you by Rick’s cock.

The room was polluted with salacious grunts and muffled moans. 

Rick tossed you over onto your hands and knees, then without warning plunged back into you. His hands gripped both your asscheeks with a force that you were sure would leave lovely red marks. Each smack of his hips against your ass manifested obscene vocals from your throat. Involuntarily your body made contact with the mattress, head lulling to the side and drool dripping from the corner of your lips as Rick picked up his pace. 

“You wanted this, knew it all along.” He cooed while fucking you into the plush mattress. “I knew it – before you even mentioned it.”

“How?” You thought. But little did you know, the clues you had sent Rick’s way ever since you had first laid eyes on him – he caught onto them. He was a police officer, after all – he was seasoned when it came to situational awareness. You weren’t slick; he noticed every little glance, every smile, every physical gesture you made with him. You fell for him.

And if he wasn’t already falling for you, then he certainly was now.

“Thaaaas right, just like that. Fuck, so tight f’me,” He sang while your ass slapped against his hips, harmonizing with the sound of his cock pounding into your slick hole.

Your fingers dug into the sheets for stability, preparing yourself for the building knot in your core again. “I’m—gonna cum!” You lifted your head weakly to warn Rick, who was too busy drowning in the warmth of your tight cunt.

Rick padded your clit with his fingers, while his other hand pushed down onto the back of your neck, subsequently pushing your body back into the mattress. His mischievous eyes caught sight of your twitching, shaking body, and he sighed heavily from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him. 

“Go ‘head, cum f’me.” 

With his permission you yelped out as yet another orgasm rushed through you. You barely acknowledged the twitching of his cock inside your dripping hole before he swiftly pulled out and unloaded onto your back.

A few ticks went by, heavy panting escaping the two of you, and immobility in full effect over you. Your thoughts came back to you as Rick cleaned you up; the fact that you went on a date with a man then went home to be dicked down by another was quite humorous to you. 

“Geez, maybe I should go on more dates just for you to fuck me like that again,” You teased Rick, sitting up.

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and kissing you gently. You blushed and smiled coyly. 

“Nah. You’re mine now, sweetheart. No one else’s.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Haircut

Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.

Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)

A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers. 

“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair. 

“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.” 

“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.” 

“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.” 

“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?” 

“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek. 

“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand. 

“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.” 

“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion. 

“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip. 

Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth. 

“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.” 

Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.” 

“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair. 

“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised. 

“Do your worst, Peña.” 

That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds. 

While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life. 

The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more. 

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down. 

“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine. 

“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you. 

“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke. 

“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.” 

“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?” 

“M-me.” 

“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart. 

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him. 

At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice. 

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).” 

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.

After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face. 

“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him. 

“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.” 

The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you. 

“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.” 

“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.” 

taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[jxckchxmpi0n]

“Is that my shirt” prompt with Ethan??? It can be where the group meets up but reader wears Ethan’s shirt instead of her own.

Mixed Items

Ethan Landry x fem reader | m.list

Word count: 790

Did not proofread

Writing fluff for Ethan is my favorite thing ♡

The group was meeting up for lunch since they couldn't do movie night this weekend. It was a small Cafe near the college so it wasn't that much of a walk, but class was running later than expected due to a movie. So you were the last to show up.

You had texted Mindy saying you'll be there in twenty minutes. You wanted to change before showing up, rushing to your apartment. You threw your purse on the couch and ran to your room.

Look through your laundry. You found a black shirt. Without double-checking it, you flipped. Throwing it on your bed, you then found some pants, taking your sweater off you threw on the black shirt and slipped the pants on. Making your way back into the living room, you grabbed your boots and your jacket.

Within ten minutes, you were in and out, now making your way to the cafe. As you were making your way to the cafe, you looked down, realizing what shirt you were wearing. It was a slasher movie from the 80s. Memories came flooding your head when you realized this wasn't your shirt. It was Ethan's.

You and Ethan have secretly been seeing each other for a while. At first, it started as friends with benefits, but then it led to more. Both of you agreed to keep it a secret for a little longer only because you liked having the relationship to yourselves.

As you were a few feet away from the cafe, you planned to not make a big deal about it. Maybe the others wouldn't notice. Entering in, you paused for a moment to find the group, Chad noticed you first. Calling out your name and waving you over.

Of course, there was only one seat open which was next to Ethan, so you swiftly sat down as the other continued their conversation. Anika was the first to greet you, Tara, Chad, and Ethan all arguing over some movie they watched the other day while Mindy sat evil eyeing them.

"How was class?" Anika's voice was soft and low compared to the others. She rested her upped body on the table as she played with her straw.

"It was good we just watched a flim on how to flim and took notes for what not to do when filming." While you were talking to Anika, Mindy's attention went to your shirt. She noticed it when you started to take your jacket off.

"Y/n is that your shirt?" Your eyes met hers, your face warmed up as everyone's attention was brought onto you.

"Oh, uhm." As you stuttered on your words, Chad spoke up.

"Ethan, don't you have one like that?"

Ethan's face was getting red as he then looked between everyone.

"Is that my shirt?" He thought back to when he was over a few days ago, things were getting heating, and he remembers throwing his shirt across your room. His eyes went wide for a moment as the dots started to connect.

"Holy shit that is your shirt!" Tara slapped Chad's shoulder as they all started to realize what's been going on.

"Okay, yes, it is his shirt!" You laughed lightly as you confessed.

"See I fucking knew it! My twenty bucks, please. " Mindy slammed her hand down on the table as her other one was shoved into her brother's face.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ethan's voice broke the silence first as Chad reached into his pocket.

"Let's see about three months ago. I had a feeling something was going on with you two. Chad here denied it because he said you would be coming to him telling him all about it. " You turned to Ethan glaring at him, which only cause him to put his hands up as he was innocent.

"We then just made a bet on if you were seeing each other and wanted to see how long it would be a "secret"" Mindy took the twenty buck from Chad and shoved it in her pocket.

"So all of you knew?" Your body hunched at the defeat of hiding it.

"Oh honey, we knew," Anika padded your shoulder to comfort you.

"Well, so much for that." Ethan looked over at you, laughing, but part of him was relieved for it to be out. He could finally touch you without worrying about the others seeing.

His hand went from his lap, and onto yours, his callous hand wrapped themselves around your thigh.

Your hand dropping down on his, lightly squeezing his. "So when did it happen? How did it happen?" Anika and Tara spoke at the same time with different questions.

"Yeah, come on, spill it!" Chad smacked Ethan's arm as the boy smiled.

[dovveri]

sun-kissed

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 5 • part 6 • part 7

synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?

warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

could they have made any less of a scene?

the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.

sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.

when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.

none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.

eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.

"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.

she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"

"you okay? kinda lost you back there."

"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."

"what was?"

she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.

"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."

what the actual fuck?

as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.

"did you know?"

"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"

"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"

you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"

she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"

you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.

the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.

you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.

even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.

sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.

you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.

your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.

"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.

you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.

you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"

"hm?"

you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"

"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.

"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"

"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"

she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.

she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."

you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."

she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.

some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.

you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.

eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.

you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.

you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.

she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.

you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.

you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.

you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.

you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.

you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.

"do you know what you want yet y/n?"

the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.

she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.

"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."

your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.

you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.

you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.

"day drinking?"

"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."

you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.

she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.

"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.

"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."

"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."

"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."

"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."

she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.

"stop that. put that back in there."

she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"

the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks when she overhears sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.

you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.

"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.

"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."

your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.

it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.

she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.

you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."

it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.

the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.

you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."

"huh? what do you mean?"

"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."

"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."

she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"

you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.

you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.

you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.

sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.

she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.

you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.

sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.

you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.

you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.

after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.

there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.

you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.

you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.

eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.

sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"...what?"

she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.

you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.

she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.

"wanna try mine?"

"i'm okay thanks."

she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.

you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.

"i missed this." sana speaks up first.

"me too."

"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."

you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."

"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."

"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"

she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."

"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."

you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.

miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?

"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.

you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.

"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.

y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this

you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.

sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."

"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."

she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.

you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.

"y/n!!"

you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.

"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"

"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"

"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"

"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"

"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."

you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.

you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.

now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-

"y/n!"

you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.

"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.

you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.

you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.

the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.

"feeling shy y/n?"

"s-shut up."

"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."

you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.

you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.

when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

"did you just spank me y/n?"

you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.

"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.

you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.

you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.

eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.

she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"

you snort, "i don't mind."

you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."

you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."

"not with me though right?"

"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."

"people say i look like a shiba inu."

"that's not the same thing."

she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."

"huh?!"

she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"i love you."

your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?

instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"

she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.

you're gulping, "...me too."

you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.

you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunset.

"you're not gonna say it back?"

you stiffen behind her, "what?"

"you know what."

she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.

you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."

"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.

you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.

a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"

another shake of your head.

you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.

"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.

she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.

when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.

she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.

"inside?" you ask.

she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.

the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.

[girliism]

80’s aerobics dance instructor patrick teaching a class bare chest hairy and toned wearing nothing but tiny shorts and gym shoes. “come on ladies thrust those hips!” patrick’s shouts.

aerobics wasn’t really your thing, but you had took a class with your mom last month and caught a glimpse of patrick giving you the perfect motivation to keep coming back.

“todays class was really good pat.” “yeah the music selection was great today.” you watch as middle aged women old enough to be his mother feel up his arms and flirt with him. “thanks ladies, i always try to keep fun and fresh for you all.” he flashes that perfect smile and they erupt into giggles.

you take a little longer to pack up leaving just the two of you left in his studio. “um, patrick i’m having some trouble on one of the moves could you help me?” patrick being the devoted workout instructor he is he says yes.

“so what’s the problem?” you’re laying on your back on the floor patrick sitting in front of your bent knees. “well when i do my glute bridge i feel it more in my low back than in my glutes.” you move into position lifting your hips up when he tells you.

you wore a high cut leotard skipping on putting leggings underneath cause of how hot it gets in the studio. patrick’s eyes zone in on the imprint of your pussy lips against your leotard.

patrick coughs to cover up his smirk. “common mistake. you just have to make sure you’re bracing your entire core.” he says placing his hand on lower stomach pushing down encouraging you to brace up against it. “like this?”

“you know a sure fire way to tell if your core in engaged is by seeing if your vaginal walls are contracted.” patrick’s tracing the back of his fingers up and down your clothed cunt. “mind if i check?”

have you dreamed about this happen before? yes. would this classify as boarder line harassment? probably, but you wanted him so bad.

“yeah, yes you can.” you sigh.

patrick pulls your leotard to the side smiling at how wet you’re growing. “remember to engage your core and squeeze tight around me.” with that he slips two fingers in. tips immediately hitting your g-spot. “oh!” you squeak. “am-am i doing it?” you breathe out trying to hide your moan.

“oh yeah, you’re doing it.” patrick brushes his thumb over your clit to see how you’d react. “oh my god” you whisper eyes falling shut as you roll your hips fucking yourself on patrick’s fingers.

patrick watches you use his fingers as if he wasn’t even here. the moans falling from your lips and the tight wet heat on his fingers has his pants tenting.

not wanting to disturb you patrick leaves his fingers in you making a move to slip his shorts off.

so caught up with your own pleasure you hardly notice how quick patrick removes his fingers and replace them with the bulbus head of his cock. “what are you doing.” your eyes snapping open while patrick folds you up hovering over you, legs off the floor wrapped around his waist your ass lifted of the ground.

“you were fucking yourself on my fingers like a whore, thought i’d give you my cock instead.” barely giving you time to respond he’s pushing his thick cock into your tiny pussy.

“so big. holy shit you’re so deep.” you slur out as patrick snaps his hips into your fast and hard. “bet you’d look so hot riding me.” he grunts in your ear. pulling you up with ease. sitting himself down on the ground back facing the mirror.

you throw your head back and bounce frantically up and down on his dick. patrick sucks at your neck yanking down the necklace of your leotard freeing your boobs. “fuck.” patrick dips his head sucking and licking your nipple.

the dark bush and the base of his cock his adding stimulation to your clit and it’s your screaming moans echo in the studio. “shit patrick m’gonna cum.” you whine. patrick holds your head up telling you to open your eyes. you’re faced with the image of yourself in the mirror behind him.

“keep your eyes open. watch yourself get fucked like a slut.” patrick’s groaning in your ear thrusting up into you. you lock eyes with yourself taking in how fucked out you look. patrick hits that spot inside you hard and your nails dig into his shoulders as you cream on his cock. patrick is quick to pull out spilling himself on your thigh and the floor.

you both clean yourself up and you go to leave before patrick stops you. “you know i do home visits if you ever wanna work on your form more.”

[rotting--melody]

Crazy in Love . . .

Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x Gn!Human!Reader

Hello everyone! Just a heads up, this is part one of a two-part fic that I was requested to do! Well, technically, I was only asked to do part 2, but I just can't pass up an opportunity to write a cringe good yandere fic! Definitely not because I couldn't figure out how to write a good one-part Yandere fic.

wc-> 2.2k (holy shit)

cw-> yandere behavior, possessive behavior, stalker behavior, not smut yet, but trust me it will be MESSY in part 2

(fic directly below the cut)

Working for the Miguel O’Hara was not what you expected it to be.

It was worse.

Ungodly hours, strict rules, and no room for error. Working for him was what you imagined being the right hand for the devil was like. Not to mention that it seemed like he had a personal vendetta against you. Whatever you did, it was never good enough -working overtime, filing his mission reports, making sure his ‘spider cave’ was spotless- nothing was enough for the man monitoring the multiverse.

And yeah, sure, the pay was good, and you did get dental and health care (he might be a monster, but he's not a villain), but god, Miguel ran you fucking ragged. Since the day you were hired, he’d been nothing but a douchebag to you.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. You’d made many great friends, the closest being Peter B, Gwen, and Hobie. You four were practically inseparable, and everyone knew it. You and Gwen were especially close, with you taking an older-sibling role in her life. Unfortunately, there was very little free time to just hang out with them while you were at the Spider-Society headquarters. For whatever reason, Miguel never let you spend longer than your (generous) ninety-minute lunch break outside of the dark little cave he called his office. And usually, that time was interrupted by none other than Mr.O’Hara himself. You knew that in being his personal secretary you’d be expected to run around and do things for him, but at this point, you felt like Andrea Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada, constantly running your ass off for an ungrateful and spectacularly moody boss. To be entirely honest, compared to Miguel O’Hara, Miranda Priestly looked like a fucking angel.

You quietly chuckled to yourself, conjuring up the image of Miguel strutting around in a pair of violently red Prada heels.

“What's so funny, Y/n?” Gwen asks, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Nothing,” you dismissed, “Just thought of something funny.” You lightly cleared your throat and took a sip from the water bottle in front of you.

A sudden beeping erupted from your pocket, and you gave a loud groan.

“Lunch break over already?” Gwen says with a small sigh.

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” you say, checking the message on your phone. Of course, it’s Miguel, probably wanting you to do something he could easily do himself. “You want to swing by my place after I get off? We could watch some cheesy flick and gossip like high-schoolers.”

Gwen excitedly nods her head, and you give her a soft smile. Giving her a parting hug, you quickly make your way back to your and Miguel's shared ‘office’. There, you’re met with the annoyingly attractive back of your boss.

“You’re late.” He grumbles.

You make a sound of exasperation. “I literally came here as soon as you called. Sorry that this place- that you designed, by the way- is built like a fucking labyrinth!” God, did he get on your nerves.

Miguel's only response is a grunt as you roll your eyes and sit down in your chair in the corner of his office. You quickly start pulling up mission logs on one monitor, and live footage of ongoing missions on the other. Your fingers fly fast across your keyboard, filling out what you’re able to on the logs, while your eyes quickly scan the many videos of Spider-people currently engaged in battle. You had always been fairly good at multitasking, so the work you did for Miguel had never been overly complicated. Truth be told. You really had no idea why he chose you for the position of his secretary. You’d think with Lyla, he’d have everything he’d ever need right at his fingertips.

After a few hours of mindless paperwork and watching battles, you decided to call it quits. Your eyes had started to burn, and your fingers were cramping. Finishing up the last few lines of what was (hopefully) your last log of the night, you stood up and stretched your sore muscles, and cracked a few bones.

"I'm leaving for the night, O'Hara. You have my number if anything happens."

Miguel didn't even so much as spare you a glance before you walked out of the room, already dialing Gwen's number.

《♡》

It was well into the early hours of the morning when you and Gwen finally said goodbye. After a long night of greasy food, bad films, and riveting workplace gossip (you would not believe how much drama happens in a place where everyone is fundamentally the same), you wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a comfortable rest on your newly cleaned sheets.

You stretched your muscles a bit, popping a few joints in your shoulders and back for a little extra relief.

You yawn slightly and absentmindedly scratched at your arm while you pick out what to wear to bed. Deciding on a simple pair of black booty shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you throw them into your bed, grab your towel, and quickly make your way into the bathroom.

After letting the water heat up for a couple seconds, you put on your favorite playlist and step in. Despite being thoroughly exhausted, your sheets are new, which means it's time to shave.

After shaving, shampooing, conditioning, and washing yourself, you step out of the shower. You towel dry your hair and then wrap the plush fabric around your body.

Making your way into your bed room, something is immediately wrong. Your instincts are telling you to run, get out, hide, but for some reason, you don't listen. You do, however, go into the top drawer of your nightstand and pull out an incredibly sharp knife (which you had stored for just this reason).

You swiftly make your way around your room, checking in the closet, under the bed, and behind the door. Nothing and no one is there.

"Maybe I'm finally going crazy for real. . ." you say to yourself, shaking your head slightly. You return the knife to it's drawer, and go to get into your pajamas.

You glace over to your bed, slightly confused.

"I could have sworn I grabbed my shorts out?"

《♡》

It's been several months since you lost your shorts, and things only seem to be getting weirder. You've been losing stuff more regularly. First your shorts, then one of your favorite jackets, then your favorite necklace, your perfume, nail polish, and most recent, your body wash (which you had just bought).

What's more, Miguel has also been acting different. Not nicer, but also not meaner. More. . . protective? But not in a good way. Your lunch break was cut from ninety minutes to fifty, and you were no longer allowed to eat in the cafeteria or common spaces.

"What the fuck do you mean I can eat lunch in the café anymore?" You angrily question Miguel.

"You're distracting the others. From now on, you'll have twenty minutes to get your food, and thirty minutes to eat. Which you will be doing in here, with me." Miguel states monotonously, not even bothering to glance at you.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes. "At this point, why don't you just put me in a cage and chain me to the desk?"

Miguel lets out a breathy chuckle, turning around to look you dead in the eyes. "Don't tempt me, pequiña."

The pit that formed in your stomach after hearing those words was most certainly not one of fear.

You get angry just thinking about that interaction. It had been a couple weeks since it was implemented, and while you had adjusted rather fast, you still didn't like it in the slightest.

Miguel has also been giving you more work, forcing you to stay later and later. You swore that if he wasn't such good eye-candy, you would have throttled him.

Speaking of eye-candy. . . You glace over to Miguel's work station to snoop. If he's going to keep you cooped up in here, you should be allowed to spy on what he's doing.

He's standing hunched over his over-the-top computer set up, watching his many screens and muttering quietly to himself. He calls Lyla up and asks her something quietly. You swear you heard your name, but you were so far away it was hard to discern anything he was saying.

You shake your head and turn back to your work.

《♡》

It was nearly midnight now, and you were still in this wretched place. You let out a loud groan and run your eyes.

“Hey, O’Hara? I'm leaving. Don't call me in tomorrow either, I need the day off.”

Your statement seems to pique Miguel's interest, as he finally moved from the position he's been standing in for hours. He turns around, leaning onto his desk and placing his hands on his incredibly tiny waste (seriously, how is that even fair??).

“Oh really?” he askes, voice laced with something you can't quite pick up on “And why is that?”

You groan again, fed up with your man-child boss.

“Because I just need a day to myself, okay? You've been working me to the bone, and I just need a massage and probably a visit to the chiropractor.” You emphasize your statement by harshly cracking your back on your chair.

He chuckles softly to himself and lightly licks his lips. “You could always ask me for help with that pequiña.”

You flush red at his statement and cough a little. Damn him for being so sexy. . .

“I uh. . . I think I'm okay. Thanks for the offer though, boss.” You can feel yourself practically sweating and you jump up from your seat and begin packing your bag.

Miguel lets out a soft hum and turns back to his computer, smiling ever so slightly.

You glace back up at your boss before you head out of the room, grabbing the little trash bag sitting in the corner of the room to dispose of on your way out. You leave with one final glace back at his broad shoulders.

The walk through Headquarters is silent. Despite being a hub for all spider folk, the halls are quiet, leaving the small click of your shoes on the tile as the only noise.

Lugging the trash bag through the halls, you reach a large dumpster and begin to haul it inside. As you swing the bag above your head, the shitty plastic gives and the contents spill out over the ground.

“Fuck! Eww that's so nasty oh my god!” You yell in disgust at the trash flies everywhere, covering you in the mysterious liquid every bag of trash seems to have.

You quickly wipe your hands off on your pants as you being to (begrudgingly) pick up the garbage from the floor. Crumpled papers, some broken cables, a couple of water bottles, a bottle of your bodywash, some rotting-

Wait.

“What the hell?”

There, sitting innocently on the ground, is a bottle of the bodywash you use. How the hell did this get here?

The bottle is mostly empty, but sloshes slightly when you pick it up, like someone has filled it with water or something in an attempt to prolong its use. You're a little creeped out.

Okay, you're a lot creeped out.

The only people who use the bin in Miguel's ‘office’ are you and him. And you certainly don't remember bringing a used bottle of soap into work to throw out.

Maybe me and Miguel just use the same soap? I mean, I'm pretty sure he lives here so. . .

A chill runs down your back as you hear a voice from the darkness.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

You quickly hide the bottle behind your back as you spin around to face him.

“Miguel! Hi! Yeah, everything is okay, I just spilled the trash, sorry to bother you.” You speak fast and nervously, inching closer to the trash bin to toss the hidden bottle inside.

Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, clearly questioning your suspicious actions.

“Ah. Okay then. Do you need any help?” He asks. It feels like he's testing you.

You nervously chuckle. “Nope! I'm all good! Sorry again for bothering you, I'll be leaving now!” In one quick motion, you throw the bottle into the trash behind you and speed walk out of the building and away from your boss.

《♡》

You lay in your bed, unblinking at the ceiling. The soap had been keeping you up. You know it's probably nothing, but with all the weird shit that's been happening to you recently, everything has been putting you on edge.

You toss and turn, your mind both racing with thoughts and completely empty. You don't even realize you're falling asleep until your eyes shut, and you succumb to the darkness.

《♡》

You awake with a start, and a horrible sensation of dread courses through your entire body. You sit up in bed, blinking the sleep from your eyes and scanning your room.

You see nothing.

Until you don't.

A large, shadowy figure stands unmoving in the corner of your room. Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the darkness.

“Oh pequiña. . . I really wish you hadn't seen that earlier. . .”

TO BE CONTINUED‼️‼️

[thinkingboute]

would you? | harry styles x model!oc

summary: The show goes off without a hitch, but Lina's interaction with Harry before clouds her mind. At the after party, she takes one for the team when Gigi tries to get in with other One Direction member, Zayn Malik. Ironic meetings lead to a first date. Part 3 of the Masks series.

part 1 here! part 2 here!

warnings: mentions of drugs, disordered eating, vomit, anxiety, alcohol, allusions to sex

a/n: This one was so much fun to write! The parts are getting longer from here.I hope you like it!

word count: about 2.4k

Holy shit these were some high heels. 

Lina danced in place, shaking the nerves that wracked her body as she prepared to walk the stage. Sweat accumulated beneath the bra and underwear---if you could even call them that. Gilded Angels was the theme this year and, goddamn, did Lina feel absolutely gilded. 

The set she wore was less fabric and more faux metal. It appeared that gold had been molded to cup her breasts, pushing them up beyond what she ever thought possible. Her wings were white, like Biblical angel wings, with gold dusted tips. Gold heels wove their way up her calves like Greek sandals. She felt holy. And really fucking hot---in both ways. 

Taylor Hill, who was opening the show, shimmied behind the curtains, lost in the heavy fabric. It was clearly go time, which usually spurred Lina to focus and quit her nervous movement. Today, she couldn’t calm herself down. Pictures of that messy haired Brit flooded her mind. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little excited to walk past him in this outfit. 

You look good. 

That’s what he said to her just an hour ago. Her head was covered in curlers, robe disheveled, eyes closed. She was giddy at the thought of him seeing her all done up. I look better than good now.

Lina squealed as two strong hands shook her shoulders from behind. “Let’s fucking go, Li!” Gigi shrieked, smacking a kiss to her cheek. The girls laughed, jumping up and down. Gigi had a way of making everything seem like just a game.

“Don’t fuck up my hair, Gi,” Lina said, giggling. Gigi’s hands spun Lina to face her. 

Ignoring her comment, Gigi grabbed her face. “I don’t walk until Taylor’s on stage,” she said, clearly excited to walk while her friend performed. Lina had become quite used to being surrounded by stars, but she was a little too excited at the thought of talking to Taylor Swift. She and Gigi had become close since the Oscars earlier that year, and Lina was hoping that would give her and in.

“I walk in…” Lina searched the room for a clock. “Four minutes.”

“I saw you talking to Harry Styles earlier,” Gigi whispered, wiggling her brows. “You seemed to be laughinggg and smilinggg and…” she lowered her voice even more, “flirtinggg…”

“Ugh, leave me alone,” Lina rolled her eyes. “We met at that masquerade thing in October.” Gigi covered her mouth with a hand.

“Why didn’t you te---”

“Because there’s nothing to tell.” Gigi started again but Lina put a hand up. “Really, it wasn’t my best moment. He was just teasing me about it earlier.” Gigi wiggled her brows again. “I was puking in the men’s bathroom, Gi. If there was ever a chance in hell he would be into me, it’s long gone.”

“I’m going to pretend that’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard today,” Gigi said, a crease appearing between her brows. “Anyway, if he really thought you were that weird, he probably would’ve stayed far away from you today. But he didn’t.” Her laugh was more of a hehe.

“I can barely look him in the eye. God, that was terrible, I---” Lina was interrupted by her name being called by the show’s producers. “Time to go. I talk to you later, baby.”

Lina’s hand was pulled towards the curtains. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to center herself as hand flew all around her, adjusting her wings, tousling her hair, and freshening her gloss. 

Lina recognized the song she was set to walk out to. Rock Me. She didn’t think One Direction would have songs that would fit a VS show. They were so…teenage girl. But this song was a bit dirtier, and it had a nice beat. She put on her super sexy and poised model mask and stepped out from behind the curtain. 

The band members were scattered about the runway. Her eyes found Harry at the end immediately. Her shoulders thrown back, she began her walk, smiling and winking at the boys she passed by. She thought one of her wings may have wacked Niall in the face, but she tried not to think much about it. 

She reached Harry after what seemed like a decade of walking. She was too nervous to look him in the eye. She wondered if, when he looked at her now, he still saw the puking corpse he saw a few months ago. 

Harry was certainly not hurting for confidence. He grabbed her hand and spun her around, leading her to walk back down the runway. Lina, as hard as it was, kept up her flirty persona, looking back over her shoulder to wink at him before slowly letting go of his hand. The walk back felt a bit like flying. 

The rest of the show went by in a blur. It was Gigi’s first time walking the show, but no one would’ve been able to tell. Her confidence oozed through every pore of her perfect face. When she got off the stage, she was bouncing off the walls, ready to find some sort of shit food to consume ASAP.

But there was an after party to attend. Lina peeled herself out of her outfit, carefully handing it to the women who surrounded her, ready to rip it from her hands. It wasn’t strange to be naked in front of so many people anymore. She’d been doing it since she was 16. She tried not to think about that part too much. 

Her new outfit consisted of a vintage VS slip, of course, with some artfully ripped tights, and heeled boots that cut off just below the knee. With her hair thrown back loosely into a pony, she felt sufficiently prepared to face her first celebrity party since the ball. 

Darren congratulated her on (his words) another fantastic show. She smiled, mind elsewhere, and got into the car, whose door he held open. 

The ride to the venue was not more than 15 minutes, but for all Lina knew, it could’ve been hours. Her mind was set on exactly what she would say to Harry when she saw him, because she knew she’d see him. His band was full of a bunch of 20 something boys. They would not pass up the opportunity to go to a party full of drinks and models. 

Darren noticed her not-quite-on-Earth-ness and waved a hand in front of her face. She swatted at it, rolling her eyes.

“Thinking about that One Way kid?” he asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Darren?” Lina snorted. 

“Whatever, the British kid with the hair. I don’t care to know more about him that I have to.”

“You don’t have to know anything.”

“When he comes to your room tonight, or you go to his, it will be my job to know about him.”

Lina blushed and buried her face in her hands. “Darren, you perv!”

“Trust me, I wish I didn’t have to think about these things. But I saw him leaning on that table earlier, like he’s some sort of Elvis. It was embarrassing how hard he was trying, honestly.”

“I told you about our…run in in October, right? He was just making fun of me,” She said still not looking at him. “And, not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t make it a habit of going to any guys room before I’ve been taken on a proper date.”

It was Darren’s turn to cover his face. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we please stop talking about this? It feels like discussing my sex life with my father.”

Darren winced. “I’d love nothing more.”

The car pulled up to the hotel the party was taking place in. Although it was dark, it was hard not to spot it. A massive crowd of paparazzi was piled on the steps to the entrance. 

“Fucking perfect.”

Darren slid out of the car, opening the door for Lina. She stepped out, careful not to let any of them snap a picture underneath her dress. She smiled and waved, but didn’t stop for pictures. Darren cut through the crowd, leading her to the door. 

The bar and room surrounding it was strangely reminiscent of the hall that held the masquerade ball. This time, thankfully, Lina was sure she was not going to puke on anyone. She was sure to stop Darren from grabbing her bag before she stepped closer to the bar. She wanted a Cosmo. 

“Liiiiinaaaaaa,” a singsong voice called from behind her. Gigi appeared at her side, face flushed. She seemed to be a few drinks in already. Lina was excited to catch up. “We’re gonna be sisters-in-law!”

Lina’s eyes widened at that. “My brother is 14, Gi. That’s a little gross.”

Gigi snorted, limply swatting at her shoulder. “I didn’t even know you had a brother, idiot. I mean that I have my eye,” she used two fingers to gesture at her eyes, “on tall, dark, and handsome.” She pointed at Zayn Malik, who chatted with a couple guys across the room. 

Lina laughed, “Oh, do you?” 

“Yes, I do. And you’re gonna get with the other one, right? Then, we’ll be sisters! Metaphorically, anyway.” Lina didn’t bother dismissing Gigi’s suggestion; she just laughed. “C’mon, c’mon!” 

“My drink---” Gigi pulled Lina across the room before she could finish her protest, not too close to Zayn, but near enough that they could see him. They leaned against the corner of a wall, observing. “Do you plan to summon him with your mind?”

“No, no, I’m just waiting for my moment,” Gigi whispered. Lina laughed, glancing around the other corner of the wall. There were a few doors lining the walls, but it was otherwise pretty empty. A gasp had her turning her head back to her friend. “He’s walking this way! Go, go, go!” Gigi pushed Lina around the other side of the wall and followed her. “Wait, wait, you can’t be here! Get in there, just for a minute before I get him to come with me somewhere else.” Lina didn’t have a second to say anything before she was shoved into one of the rooms. 

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

Lina turned around, taking in the room around her, her eyes catching on the pearly urinals. 

Harry was looking at her, paper towel clasped in his hands as he dried them. He laughed at Lina’s widened eyes. 

“Are you planning to keep your head out of the toilet,” he asked, tossing the paper towel into the bin. “The sink too, I supposed.”

Lina groaned turning to brace herself on the cool, wooden door. “I swear, this was not my idea.”

Harry laughed from behind her. “I should hope not.” He made to move towards the door to leave, but Lina whipped around, placing a hand on his chest.

“We can’t leave,” she whispered. 

Harry cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, this isn’t the most sanitary place, and I don’t have a condom but---”

Lina made an ‘ack’ sound before lightly pushing him away from her. “Don’t be weird.” Harry put his hands up in defense. “My friend is out there…with your friend.”

“I’m sure we can come up with a reason other than sex to explain us leaving the bathroom together.”

“Harry, I’m being serious!” Lina said, exasperated. “She pushed me in here because she wants to…talk to your friend.”

“Which friend?”

“Zayn.”

“He doesn’t say much, so that conversation should be over now.” He moved towards the door once again, but Lina grabbed his wrist this time. “She’s pretty drunk, and she’d be pretty pissed if I interrupted her shot. She said she’ll try to get him to go somewhere else as soon as she can.” Harry stifled a laugh. “We can leave soon. Just, I don’t know, be quiet and don’t, like, do anything weird.”

“Me? Do something weird?” he exclaimed, faux defensiveness causing Lina to roll her eyes. “I’m not sure I’m the one to worry about here, woman in the men’s bathroom.”

Lina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Not on purpose.”

“Last time, sure it wasn’t,” Harry said lowly. Lina was keenly aware of her grip that remained on Harry’s wrist. “This time…I think you just wanted to get me alone.” He was closer now, breath fanning her face, alcohol and mint filling her nose. 

“I could get you alone in a less…strange way if I wanted to.” Lina couldn’t look at him, so she examined the holes in her tights. 

“Would you, though?” His voice lowered even more. She wasn’t sure how much lower it could get before it was more of a growl. 

Wow, these tights really were artfully ripped. The perfect place for a tear really is just above the knee. She liked her knees, she supposed, but knees were a little weird overall---

“Carolina.”

“Lina.”

“What?”

“I prefer Lina.”

“Alright, Lina. Wanna answer my question?”

Lina’s breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She would not sleep with him tonight, especially not in this bathroom. But that didn’t stop her from thinking about it. She was starting to feel a little warm. 

Harry made to ask her again, but the door banged open, causing the both of them to stumble back and away from one another. Gigi’s eyes widened before she smiled mischievously.

“I am leeeaving, LiLi!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Gi.” She was maybe a little too drunk to go anywhere with any man. 

“No, no, I don’t mean like that,” she giggled. “Zayn said that if I got some rest tonight, he would see me tomorrow.” Lina was a bit surprised at that. “So! I’m leaving!” 

“Why don’t I go with you? Just to be sure you’re alright,” Lina asked, hopeful it would get her  out of answering anymore questions tonight. 

She felt Harry’s eyes on her as Gigi replied, “Oh, sure. Only…” her eyes flitted between the two of them, “If you want to.”

“It’s no problem, really, honey.” Lina felt a little guilty for leaving like this, but really, she was nervous. She’d had a few flings here and there after her rise to fame, but she never had the time to pursue them further. She was a bit rusty, now.

“Alright!” Gigi turned to leave the bathroom as Lina looked in the opposite direction, towards the man behind her.

“I’ll answer your question after dinner, Styles.”

He smiled a small, amused smile. “It’s a date.” 

[catt-leya]

Collide || Rick Grimes 18+

About the fic: 'Collide' was the first smutty fic I ever wrote and I posted it one year ago. During the year a lot of people asked me for a second part, but since I believed I had better ones I never took the second part in consideration (it was my first and well...you can see I had no clue what I was doing while writing it hihi)

Soooo I thought it might be fun to rewrite 'Collide' one year later and see how it works (as a little celebration for my first year here)...and I fell in love and since I'm not writing a second part of it I made it WAY longer with actual smut...have fun 💗

Summary: Rick and you are on a run and you can't stand each other until you have to work together...

Trigger: dirty talk, choking (?), breeding (?), enemies to lovers (?) they hate each other

Annoyed, you stomp through the forest behind Rick.

You just can't stand it when he orders you around, and when he told you to go with him to look for an outpost, you thought you'd jump down his throat.

Your eyes bore into his back, "Enlighten me. Why would you want me to come with you? Couldn't you have brought someone else who would rather be with you? Daryl, Michonne, or just a rock for all I care."

You see exactly how his shoulders lift as he takes a deep breath, "I couldn't find a rock big enough to replace you."

Rick and you don't really get along and mostly try to avoid each other, but you can also understand why he didn't want to roam the woods alone. That's where you're a better backup than not having one at all. 

Especially since, despite your differences, you wouldn't let anything happen to him and you can be sure that he would step into the breach for you too.

You've known each other since the time you spent in prison and yet you've never warmed up to each other. Your only common ground, besides your need to protect others, is probably your friendship with Daryl, who has long since given up on bringing you together in any way.

In the beginning, you were also annoyed that Rick took on the role of leader, until you had to admit that he's really good at it, and now you're just upset when he lets the all-knowing leader hang out in front of you.

Groaning, you continue to stomp after him, mentally slapping yourself as you notice your eyes sliding over his back, which is covered by a brown leather jacket. 

You can't stand it when he wears that stupid jacket, and you can stand it even less when he brushes a few strands out of his face like he's doing now, causing the jacket to lift up with his shirt so that you can see a narrow strip of his skin.

You grit your teeth and hiss, "Couldn't we have taken a car?"

He looks over his shoulder at you and his blue eyes seem to gleam in the murky forest, "And then what? Should we have just run over some trees to get to the outpost?"

You roll your eyes, "Maybe you haven't heard, genius. But there's an invention called a ROAD."

Annoyed, he turns away and you hear him mutter softly, "I should have looked harder for a rock."

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

You take your eyes off him and look up into the treetops.

Summer is so slowly saying goodbye and the leaves are changing color. But, what makes the day so dull today is the fog that hangs incredibly low.

Thick swaths dance around the branches above you and you watch so fascinated that you don't see the root in front of your feet and stumble.

You squeak softly and try to find your balance, which only results in you taking three awkward steps and Rick turning to you at the girly sound you make.

Before you take your last step, you already know you wouldn't catch yourself again and reach out to Rick to steady yourself. Only you didn't think he'd stand as steady as a blade of grass in the wind, and you yank him to the ground with you.

After the dull thud, you can count yourself lucky that you landed on him and that he didn't push you to the ground with all his weight.

Flat on his back, Rick lies beneath you and closes his eyes, groaning, "Holy shit."

The impact has pushed all the air out of your lungs and you take a deep breath, "Sorry."

All that comes from him is a "Hmmm" and you grab his shoulders to push yourself up off of him.

Your whole body is pressed against his and you block out the warm feeling gathering between your legs as you straighten up as far as you can before your waistband gets caught in his belts.

You can't even really see what's slipping in where before you're moaning, "Holy shit. Couldn't one belt have been enough for you?"

Confused, he opens his eyes, "Huh?"

Testifying, you try to get your pants off him and mimic him, "'Huh?' That's your only contribution?"

You feel his body tense under you as he lifts his head slightly to see what's even going on and then sighs, "Woman, now don't act like this shit is my fault. How about next time you don't trip, or at least have the good grace not to knock me over too?"

Rick's arrogance provokes you to nag, "And how about next time you catch me and not fall over like a wet bag of rice?"

You can see him getting angrier, and perversely, it really turns you on. 

His eyes are much darker than before and you seriously have the urge to rub up against him. Disgusted with yourself, you shake your head and Rick grits his teeth as he hisses, "Get your ass up so I can get at it, if you can't do it yourself."

You're reluctant to do what he asks, but if you really want to get away from him, you have no choice, and you straighten up on your knees to the left and right of his thighs as much as you can so that he can reach between you with his hand.

The fact that his hand is so close to the spot between your legs in the process that under normal circumstances you would tick his hand off, you try to ignore and instead release one hand from his shoulder to press your loose shirt against your body.

In order for him to see what he's doing, he has to look down at you, and you don't feel the urge to show him your bare tits. 

Of course, he notices your attempt to keep your dignity and murmurs softly, "Relax. There's nothing to see anyway."

If you still had a free hand, you'd love to slap him, but with your shirt problem and the fact that his shoulder is your only support at the moment, you have to settle for a venomous stare.

He doesn't even notice and instead tugs hard on your pants so that your crotch presses firmly against his and he growls, "I outlast hordes of walkers and then scrape off because you can't look where you're going."

You dig your fingers into his shoulder "Oh my god, you're so dramatic. We're not going to die just because our pants got caught," and then grumble, "Hold my shirt. I have small hands, maybe I can get it to work."

Unsatisfied, he's now the one pressing the shirt against your body and you use your hand to get at your problem.

His belt buckle sits oddly on one loop of your pants and you try to pull it out of his belt, "I swear that was the last time I went out alone with you, Rick."

His knuckles graze your collarbone and you wince.

Exasperated, you growl, "I'll just take my pants off in a minute."

He mutters a "God forbid," and you jerk your head up to kill him with your gaze, "Rick, I swear to you, if the next thing that comes out of your mouth isn't helpful, I'm going to lose it."

He rolls his eyes, "You talk so incredibly much. Can't you just shut up for a minute so I can spin us so I'm on top?"

His choice of words brings a blush to your face and you hiss, "I talk when I want to and I know you'd love to shut me up, but hardly anything smart comes from you either."

His gaze slides down your body and he mumbles into his beard, "I know what I could stuff your mouth with to keep you quiet and you'd probably thank me for it."

Frozen, you pause in mid-motion and look at him. 

You're not sure if you imagined his words, or maybe your imagination is running away with you. At least you now see in your mind's eye what he would press into your mouth, and that brings your heart out of rhythm for a moment.

A few seconds pass before he looks you in the face again and you find your voice again, whispering harshly, "I'm certainly not going to lie on my back like a helpless bug while you push me to the floor."

Mischievousness flashes in his eyes and you now truly believe he is actually flirting with you, "Afraid of having me on top of you?"

He releases his hand from your shirt and rests it on your neck instead. You don't care at the moment that your neckline is now gaping open again, and as his thumb runs over your pulse, you're sure he can feel how fast your heart is beating.

You're really afraid to have him on top of you. 

Afraid of being pressed to the ground by his body in such a way that your movements are even more restricted than they already are, because momantaneously you still have at least the slightest measure of superiority over him. But as soon as he has you under him, that little difference is gone.

It's only now, as you let your eyes slide over his face, that you notice how close your lips actually are, and you have the brief reflex to just lean down and cover his pretty mouth with yours. You stare at his lips as he grins boyishly and asks, "So, don't you want to know what it would feel like?"

How it would feel to have him inside you is the only thought your mind can manage, and you actually whimper out.

Taking advantage of this brief moment of weakness, Rick swiftly spins you around so that he's between your legs, his pelvis pressing firmly against you.

You draw in a sharp breath as you feel how hard his cock is and gasp softly, "Rick."

Blinking, he looks down at you and you feel his chest press against your soft tits with each breath he takes. 

Briefly, like you, he seems to have forgotten what got you into this situation before he shakes his head and positions himself on his elbow so he can lift his hip and reach between you again, "I can't believe how tight this shit is."

Fluttering, your eyes fall shut and you think about how wet you already are for him. Oh my god, you can't stand him, but you also can't pretend you're not going to let him fuck you right here and now.

In a hushed voice, you ask him, "Rick? Is it working? Otherwise, just take my pants off."

You realize that he's also just a man who probably hasn't slept with a woman in a long time (not that you're paying attention) and it probably doesn't have much to do with you personally that his cock is twitching in his pants and you can feel it between your legs.

"Please don't talk about taking your pants off," he says in a husky voice and at the word 'please' you open your eyes again.

He's given up on undoing his belt and instead props himself up on both elbows above you, "I don't plan on dying with a hard-on in my pants."

You don't know what to do with your hands, so without giving it much thought, you grope his upper arms, "And again, you're being so dramatic. We're not particularly far from Alexandria and we've secured the area, so don't be a pussy and just take my fucking pants off."

He flinches and squints his eyes.

So you try to reach between you yourself to unzip your pants, he presses harder against you, so you can't reach your pants with your hand and instead have to stifle a moan yourself as he presses hard against you again.

"In case you haven't figured it out yet: I'm overly horny and you certainly can't take your pants off without me cumming in my own. So hands off," he growls with arousal.

His direct words make you whimper softly and you press closer to him.

The annoyed mood turns to something else entirely and you breathe softly, "I certainly don't even need my hands for that. I can promise you that."

You know he doesn't want to react to you like that, but he groans anyway as you start rubbing up against him.

The problem with his belt and your pant loop is forgotten, and you pull him down to you by the back of his neck.

You don't even have to ask him to, he's already putting his lips on your pounding pulse and kissing the heated skin.

You gyrate your hips and grip his hair tightly as you hear him moan against your neck.

Your breathing is erratic and you wrap your legs around his narrow waist to pull him even closer to you.

What you wouldn't give to make the distracting fabric of your jeans disappear and let him slide into you.

The way he moves over you turns you to putty in his arms and you whimper, "More."

You don't care how pathetic you sound or what he would say afterward. In the here and now, you want him to take you.

Hard.

You hear his muffled moan against your neck, "Fuck, I thought you hated me."

Tense, you press your lips together, and when you don't answer him, he lifts his head and pushes your chin up with one hand so far you have no choice but to look at him.

"I don't hate you. I just don't like you very much," you say, but you can't even believe yourself.

He leans forward, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly, "Oh, is that so? So if you don't like people, you dry hump them?"

You can't bring yourself to say anything but his name and he breathes, "Talk to me."

Again he pushes his cock to just the right spot and your insides tighten in excitement, "Please, Rick."

You're at the point where you're begging him to make you cum, and you let your hands slide down his back to pull his jacket and shirt up enough for your hands to rest on his bare back.

His skin feels soft under your fingertips and you sigh softly against his lips, still millimeters from yours.

You don't care about the cool floor and all you want is Rick.

"I love it when you make those soft sounds," it sounds like he's reluctant to admit it, but you reward him for his honesty by purring, "Make me do them again."

Growling, he presses his lips to yours, pushing himself a little further over you, which brings a soft click and without looking, you know your pants have come off his belt.

Rick hears it, too, and breaks away from your lips in surprise to sit up and realize that you're no longer stuck to each other.

He himself is staring at his belt and you can't stop your eyes as they move a few inches lower and you stare at the bulge that was pressed against your pussy just a few seconds ago.

The silence is oppressive and where normally you would barely hold back and throw things at each other, now you are silent.

You'd like to say you're no longer attracted to him now that he's not so close, but you can't stop thinking about how warm his skin felt under your palms and how his kiss tasted.

He is still kneeling motionless between your legs and you are lying flat on your back. Your nipples are clearly visible through the thin fabric of your shirt, and you'd love to squeeze your legs together to ease the throbbing between them, but instead you say softly, "Rick."

He releases his gaze from his belt and looks at you as if he's seeing you for the first time in his life.

You know full well you could make a complete ass of yourself and he'd rub it in your face for years, but you meekly mumble, "Take off your jacket and shirt, please."

Over the years, you've learned that Rick is extremely hard to read and you never know if he's going to give you a hug or tick you off. He's always in control of his facial features.

Except now.

His mouth hangs open and he looks at you as if you had asked him to stick a stick up his ass and start a fire with it.

You take a deep breath and push yourself up with your hands so that you can sit in front of him and grab his jacket yourself.

He doesn't move an inch.

You run your hands over the soft fabric on his collar and then slide a little lower to gather the fabric in your small hands and pull the jacket off his broad shoulders. As you do so, you bend even further towards him and his eyes lock onto your lips.

You set the jacket down beside you on the dry leaves and tug at the hem of his shirt, "Don't make me beg you."

Slowly he looks you in the eye again and your breath catches as you realize how close you are to his face again. You could count every single gray hair in his beard and see the shades of blue in his eyes.

The thought "Shit, he's handsome" flits through your mind and you wonder where you mustered the self-control to more or less ignore how incredibly attractive he is.

For a while, you just stare into each other's eyes until Rick lifts his hands and reaches down his neck to pull his shirt over his head.

It's not the first time you've seen Rick topless, but it's the first time you've wanted to see him like this, and the first time you've wanted to touch him.

His stomach rises with each breath, and you hate yourself for how this normal action makes you moan softly.

When he hears it, he bites his lower lip and puts his shirt down on his jacket.

Slowly, he leans toward you, making you back away further until you're flat on your back again and he's towering over you.

"Does this change anything between us?" his voice is rough and soaked with arousal, which only makes your voice seem higher, "No."

Like a predator about to pounce on its prey, he looks at you, "You're still going to hate me after I fuck you?"

You raise your hand and trace his collarbone with your finger, "Exactly." Again, you hear the lie in that one little word.

Even Rick laughs, shaking his head, and then leans down so his lips graze yours again, "I don't believe a word you say."

Instead of defending yourself or repeating yourself, you bridge the small distance that separates you and kiss him.

You think you hear a soft "fuck" from him, but you may have imagined it because you're far too busy sliding your hands over his torso.

The hair on his chest is soft under your palms, and the further down you slide, the more his abs twitch under your touch.

Awkwardly, you try to push your chin higher so Rick doesn't have to lean so far down toward you to make up for the size difference, and whimper into the kiss as he puts a hand to your neck and pushes your head higher that way himself.

The way his hips rest heavily on you and his tongue is deep in your mouth makes you feel complete.

You run your fingers over the fuzz of hair leading from his navel to his belt and he pushes his hips further towards you, inviting you to continue.

The cool metal of his belt buckle in your hands makes you flinch briefly and he releases his lips from yours to kiss your jaw and then your neck.

Panting, you lay your head to the side to give him more room and as he brushes the spot behind your ear you didn't even know existed.

Rick knows exactly what to do to get soft sounds of arousal to pass your lips and as he gently bites your neck, your fingers tighten around his belt buckle.

"Unbuckle it," he murmurs in your ear and your whole body trembles.

Breathing heavily, you open first his holster and then the regular belt he wears.

He may seem like he's in complete control, but the way he thrusts his hips at you and his cock twitches as you run your fingertips over his denim says something else entirely.

He wants you at least as much as you want him.

Before you can tamper with his jeans, though, he slides his own hand between you and pulls your neckline down from your shirt so far that your tits puffs out and he pushes himself down enough to take your nipple in his mouth.

At the very first contact of his tongue on your tip, you can no longer suppress a soft cry.

"That's the way I've always imagined it," his voice drips with satisfaction and pride and you're far too busy feeling his body on yours to give him a piece of your mind.

Slowly he licks over your nipple and then says again, "Just like that. The way you squirm under me and can't think of anything but finally having my cock in your tight pussy and I'm sure you're tight. So fucking tight that I'm going to fill every inch of you and stretch you so far that you're going to beg me to stop."

Lasciviously he looks at you through his thick lashes and you moan softly, "Is that a promise?"

He pauses in his position for a moment before he pulls away from you and you hold out your arms to him like a whining toddler. You panic, thinking he wants to leave you lying there, "Please don't. Don't leave."

Surprised, Rick looks at you as if he can't believe you're really talking to him in such a meek and needy way.

A slight breeze blows over you and your nipples become even harder from the cool air and the wetness left from Rick's tongue.

Hectically you try to reach for him again, "Please don't, Rick."

You don't care at that moment how pathetic you sound, and in fact you're rewarded by him reaching for your hands, which you hold out to him, and leaning in to breathe a kiss on the back of each of your hands, "Easy."

He rests your hands on your stomach and casually strokes your hard nipples, "I'll stay with you. I just want to get your pants off, okay?"

Shame breaks over you and you squint your eyes, "Of course. Sorry."

You're irritated by the way you're suddenly acting toward him, but strangest of all is how gentle and sweet Rick is to you.

It's not that you didn't think he could do it, because you know perfectly well how he acts toward his young daughter and can be incredibly soft to others, too, like Maggie or Daryl.

It's just that you wouldn't have expected him to be able to show that side of himself in front of you, too.

"Don't be embarrassed," his words make you look at him again, "What?"

Grinning, he undoes the button of your pants, "Don't be embarrassed that you want me. In fact, I think it's pretty damn hot that you don't even want to let me out of your reach."

He unzips, "And I bet-" he slides his hand down your pants, "That you're more than willing and wet for me."

His fingers meet your swollen and as he predicted, already wet pussy and you gasp, "Rick…please…oh fuck…"

He gathers up some of your arousal and circles your clit, "What are you begging me for?"

You try to spread your legs wider so you can get more of him, but your pants won't allow it and you whimper, "For more. Please."

Instead of granting your wish, he withdraws his hand again and your brain goes blank, making you speak more freely than ever, "Oh God, I'll do anything you want, but don't stop."

A cocky grin steals onto his face, "If I'd known I'd get you this submissive, I'd have fingered you back when you threatened to kick me in the balls if I hadn't let you have the better room."

Before you can say anything back, he finally removes your shoes and pants before his eyes fall on your red lace panties, "Like you knew red was my favorite color."

The panties reveal more than they cover, and the fact that you're sliding your butt back and forth to signal Rick to finally pull the last of the offending fabric off your ass makes him groan in agony, "When I fuck you, you're mine, got it?"

Your eyes lock on his boner, "What? I don't belong to anyone."

Rick's calloused hands run over your thighs to your hipbones and then he reaches for the fabric, "Once my cock is inside you, you are. Then you're mine."

Speechless, you stare at him and he tugs lightly at the fabric, "You won't let anyone else touch you and you'll spread your legs for me when I want you to."

Silently you laugh out, "I'm certainly not going to let you fuck me when and where you want. You can forget it."

Agonizingly slow, he removes your panties and the cool air hits your swollen pussy, "Wanna bet, do you?"

In fact, it's that very arrogance that turns you on so incredibly that you'd like to punch yourself.

Defiantly a poisonous answer lies on your lips, there he reaches for his own pants and when he takes them off and also pulls his blue boxers over his ass, all words stick in your throat.

Big and hard, his cock is waiting to finally penetrate you and your heart is faster than your head, "Okay."

He takes himself in hand and runs his fist over the shaft several times, "Okay what?"

You can't take your eyes off him and you notice your pussy tighten around nothing, "Fuck me so I can't walk and I'm yours."

His cock twitches at your words and you reach your arms out to him again.

This time you don't have to ask him to lie on top of you, and he positions himself between your legs so that the tip of his cock strokes your pussy.

You squirm under him to take him inside you, crying softly, "I want you so much."

Softly he snorts against your neck, "Not as much as I want you and have for so long."

Fluttering, your eyes fall closed, "Rick…"

Again he kisses the spot behind your ear and your body rears up as he pushes himself inside you a few inches.

You haven't slept with a man in a while and after seeing how big Rick is, you find it hard to believe that he actually manages to fuck you deeper without tearing your pussy apart.

Unable to hold on to anything else, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades and enjoy the low growl that comes from his throat, "You're made for me."

With your left hand you grab his hair and pull so hard that he takes his mouth off your neck and kisses you on the lips instead.

You feel him inside your pussy, taste him in your mouth, and can smell him.

Everything around you is Rick and you forget why you don't actually like him.

Yoy forget that you didn't actually want to be out with him alone and instead whisper, "Yeah, made for you."

You wrap your thighs around his bare hips and pull him even tighter against you.

The pressure from your legs makes him sag a little lower, hitting just the right spot inside you at the angle that makes you tense violently around him and pull him even deeper inside you, "Rick…there…right there…"

Gasping, he presses his forehead against yours and pulls back, only to thrust into you again and you can't bring anything but a wistful whimper to your lips.

You dig your heels into his ass and try to press him as close as you can.

With one hand, he grabs your tit and squeezes hard enough to knock you out of your mind and your dignity as you whimper, "Harder."

His blue eyes are misty and he has to blink several times before he looks at you properly, "Fuck, you're taking me in so well. Clinging to my cock like the world depends on me cumming inside you."

His cock twitches and you stroke through his sweaty hair, "You're so deep inside me."

Suddenly something flashes in his eyes and he pauses.

"I want to show you something," at his words you shake your head, "Not now, please go on. Please."

But he pulls back on you and he has more strength than you, so you can't do anything about it either and just whine, "Rick, come back here. You can't do this to me. You're not that cruel."

Raucously, he laughs up and leans in to your ear, "Easy, honey. Your pussy is mine anyway and I'm certainly not going to waste how good you feel around my cock. I just want you to see something."

Confused and unsatisfied, you pull his hair to get him to look at you, and when your eyes meet, he says softly, "You only ever feel me up to the hilt inside you, but have you seen it?"

He must see that you don't get what he's getting at and shifts his weight so that his cock is resting heavily on your bare belly.

Your own wetness sticks to his cock and is now slowly running down onto your belly to mix with your own sweat.

You can't take your eyes off him as his precum also drips onto your belly and you ask hoarsely, "Rick?"

"Now you see how deep I really am inside you," never have you heard his voice so deep and your whole body goes weak.

Never before have you visually seen how deep you can have a cock inside you and now it's Rick's lying on top of you, swollen to show what you're letting him do to you.

What he's taking from you and what he can fill you with.

You can't get a word past your lips and instead pull him down to you to kiss him hard on the lips.

You notice how your pussy clenches begging and you don't even have to ask him to finally fuck you again, because he rams himself into you again and you moan in sync.

Hoarsely you gasp his name and he thrusts even harder into you, "Do you actually know how beautiful you are when you moan my name. Just my name."

Towards the end his voice breaks and to stop him from speaking further you pull him to you again and murmur against his lips, "I want to moan just your name too." Before you kiss him hard and swallow his "Baby cum for me" and start pulsing breathlessly.

Firmly you pull at the curls in his neck and he mumbles "Fuck" before his thrusts become messy and uncontrolled.

Weakly you lie under him while he squints his eyes and takes what he needs.

At the same time you can't take your eyes off his beautiful face.

He's so tense that you place your shaky hands on his cheeks and sigh, "That's right, Rick. Take what's yours."

Still tightening around him every now and then, he buries his face in the hollow where your neck joins your shoulder.

The gesture is so vulnerable and intimate that you begin to stroke the back of his head and praise him softly.

You quickly realize that he's totally into it when you tell him how well he takes you and how much you want him.

With one last thrust, his body stiffens and he fucks you through his climax before he stays heavily on top of you, unable to continue to lean up over you.

You won't be able to leave him on top of you for long as he slowly takes your breath away and as you start to squirm a bit under him, he leans up a bit heavily to take his weight off of you, "Do you still hate me?"

Surprised by the question, you flinch, "What?"

His eyes slide over your face and can't believe you actually burst out laughing and poke him in the cheek, "I didn't mean it in a primitive way when I promised you I wouldn't let anyone else touch me."

Still looking down at you skeptically, you can't help but think it's extremely cute, "Rick, I've never hated you...I didn't meant it. Sometimes I could kick you in the balls and sometimes you just annoy me, but I don't hate you."

So slowly his eyes clear and you smile as wide as you can at him as you tease a little, "But if it makes you feel better, I'm happy to lie and say I hate you."

Uncertainly, he bites his lower lip and seems to search your face for something.

Briefly, you think he's decided against saying anything, when he says quietly, without taking his eyes off you, "It's a shame, because I love you."

@hail-yourselves  @bean-is-reading  @chanlvr2  @criminalwalkingsupernatural  @sunshinevirus  @toxic-ink  @kingtwhiddleston  @bloodycherry22  @vane28282  @bamslover  @revesephemeres  @emo-potato-virgil  @tropodyn  @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @igotbasicdrag @moonshine147

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 💗)

[lemonmatronics]

THE POPPY PLAYTIME CHAPTER 3 TRAILER IS SOOO!,?!.?.!.

What a great treat to wake up to—Excuse me while I go insane and spill some thoughts, reactions, theories, and predictions below please

ahem

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SO LIKE FIRST OFF this chapter is gonna fuck, like this looks SO good holy shit

The setting and environment looks amazing but also the new hands mechanic along with the mask ohhhh this is gonna be FUN

Okay rambling about screenshots I took time

First off the environments look great, holy wow

The house itself looks kinda small so idk if that is the orphanage itself or some kind of set. Cause you can see fake sky walls around it, but like this is Playtime Co they would definitely do that to the orphanage also to give an illusion of outside. Either way it looks GREAT and I’m really excited to explore this setting

Just a nice shot of all the critters

I’m really curious if all the critters are gonna be utilized somehow. We know about Catnap and Dogday already, especially after the trailer itself. Though there was also the footage of Bobby running down the hall, looking like a normal plushie, and possibly seeing Hoppy in the trailer too. (I’ll touch on that later)

New Poster

Definitely looks like some company propaganda to try and keep kids from being afraid of CatNap. Judging by the files we got before looks like the results were a mixed bag. Considering the gas is there in the poster it’s definitely a company only poster, not something they could sell outside. They manipulated this kids so bad man :(

A CLEANER LOOK OF THIS THING,,,

THATS A SKELETON COMING OUT OF PUGAPILLAR’S MOUTH…Like that’s just straight up human remains.

I don’t think we’ve ever seen that before in this game. Like blood yeah plenty but BONES? They’re definitely amping things up for this chapter and I’m 100% here for it.

Besides that there’s a ton of plushies and such stabbed onto this weird thing. Is it a shrine? It doesn’t look like it could really move tbh, and if it was meant to be alive those parts aren’t doing anything to help it.

This poor mf

I’ve seen a lot of people speculate this is DogDay, which is a valid guess, but tbh my first thought was Hoppy. You can tell they have long droopy ears, which lines up with both candidates to me. Though I think the ears look a bit slimmer than what Dog Day’d would be, plus the angle on the head looks more like they’re dropping from the top of the head rather than the sides. I feel like if this was DogDay the whole head silhouette would be different because of the ears, which makes me lean towards Hoppy more.

I know her toy gives her long pointed up ears, but going off art and animation her ears can definitely fold

So I don’t think it’s out of the question that as a Bigger Bodies being her ears could fold over like that, especially while stuck like this.

Now I could be the one wrong here but I really think this is Hoppy. Won’t know until the game itself though so, I won’t treat either as divinities yet. It could just as easily be the case everyone else is right and it is DogDay, there’s evidence for that as well (Again, I’ll touch on that later).

So much happened here where do I even start

Obvious out the bat I guess, Kissy Missy is back!! And looks like Poppy isn’t ditching us alone either! Man I cannot tell it Poppy is good or not at this point, gray area? Trailer dialogue definitely sounded like she was supporting us.

“We’re coming! Just hold on!”

It’s really nice seeing Kissy back, really excited to see how she’s gonna help and play into this. I’ve been on the stance that she’s good ever since she helped in chapter 2 so this is really cathartic for me lmao.

As for what Poppy says here I found it interesting, like really interesting. Like, hearing it the first time made me think she casually confirmed something massive interesting. Granted, actually thinking about it longer, it could mean something else entirely. But was that the whole point?

“What’s happening down here is bigger than all of us. I need you. So we can revenge on those monsters who’ve tortured you, who’ve tortured us.”

“Those monsters who’ve tortured you”

Now, once I thought about it this is most likely referring to the literal monsters in the factory. Huggy, Mommy, CatNap, so on and such. But that’s not what my initial assumption was.

When Poppy referred to “monsters”, by first thought was the people working at the factory. I thought she said people at the factory tortured us.

I thought she confirmed that we’re a toy.

Once I thought about it longer, it doesn’t actually confirm that. But what if that’s the entire point? A double meaning line?

Now the player being a toy theory is something that’s been around since chapter 1, a theory I’ve fully stood by since then and still do. I like to think that’s why our character is completely silent, we’re a toy that can’t speak. Mute toys is something we’ve seen plenty of in the factory, more so than toys that actually talk. (Unless you count stuff like the Smiling Critters cartoon or the cardboard cutouts, but I’m talking purely living beings here.)

So while this doesn’t confirm the theory, this line is definitely throwing wood into the fire for me.

DogDay

Wether or not the chained Bigger Body above us DogDay or Hoppy, we have it confirmed here that DogDay is featured heavily in this chapter as an enemy. Again, I really wonder if the other Smiling Critters will show up as threats as well. Maybe a mixed bag of good and bad critters. If the chained up Bigger Body is DogDay, I wonder why he chases us after we assumingely set him free.

One note I’ll give that is to evidence for the chained bigger body being DogDay is that in the thumbnail you can see a shackle on his wrist

His arms are also long and lanky, which is why I won’t completely rule out it possibly being him there. It’s just as possible that it is him, both feel very plausible to me.

Though looking at the game footage, I’m not sure if can can see anything on his wrists. Additionally his arms look much wider than the one in thumbnail.

Additionally, the DogDay in the thumbnail looks so much like a…mascot suit? You can see seams and stitches all over him. Even other Bigger Bodies don’t look like that. Which is something I wanna give its own post to to figure deeper on.

So is this even the same DogDay at all?

It’s not completely out of the question there could be multiple DogDays, though that begs the question, what about other Smiling Critters? What about other toys as a whole?

Here’s my prediction on it. One Bigger Bodies experiment, and then there’s smaller ones approximately the size of their normal toys.

I think the DogDay in the thumbnail is a result of the Bigger Bodies testing, and the one actually chasing us is just a smaller more “normal” DogDay.

But if that’s true then it begs the question, what about other critters? We’ve seen a smaller Bobby before, does she also have a Bigger Bodies version?

Do they all have a Bigger Bodies equivalent?

Is there still a normal CatNap?

Again, all speculation but this chapter especially is really tickling my brain.

And finally we’ve got the man of the hour

Man he is so much lankier than I thought he would be. That definitely explains why his face was so high up on that one cam footage though. Here I was thinking he’d be bulky!

There isn’t too much to say here other than CatNap is definitely gonna be an imposing threat, and I’m very excited to see him in game. So far we’ve mainly seen him through silhouettes, and light peeks at small portions of his design. Seeing him better is game is gonna be a thrill and I’m so ready for it!

Additionally, just for the sake of adding on, we’ve seen these posters apparently from overseas get spread around lately

Both of these definitely look like they’re meant to be company only posters, ones you’d find in the schooling and orphanage areas.

The left poster telling kids to go inside right away when recess is up, nothing super deep here. Just a peek at the schooling that had here, and that these kids had their lives completely contained within the factory.

The second poster is CatNap telling Huggy to go to sleep, another attempt at convincing children CatNap isn’t dangerous. If Huggy is fine they will be too, right?

Anyways that’s my initial thoughts and reactions right after watching the trailer. VERY excited about this game, it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to brainstorm on my own over a game like this so I’m really looking forward to what this chapter has to give.

[luckyfinch]

nobody asked for this but i need an outlet to rant about the newest helluva boss episode before i explode so beware spoilers for s2e11 Mastermind below

okokokokkookok blitz’s face as he realizes what stolas is doing . its so perfectly captured. like, he’s there being verbally berated basically by stolas while on the chopping block, not rlly sure what the fuck he’s on about, and then u can just SEE the exact second he realizes stolas is acting to take the eyes off of himself

and once he understands what stolas is trying to do he fucking PANICS, cause HOLY SHIT STOLAS IS THROWING HIMSELF UNDER SATAN’S WRATH FOR *BLITZ* (and especially despite all the issues they’d been having recently—the “I don’t deserve this!” line truly frames Blitz’s guilt perfectly)

and the visual of blitz struggling against *gold chains* here ?!?!?!?!?? AMAZING parallel to his truth-hallucination back in s1e6 (Truth Seekers) where he easily lets himself be dragged up to Stolas by *gold chains*.

this specific parallel is sooo cool. the hallucination was a clear show of Blitz feeling trapped in some way by Stolas, and the detail of him having to climb up a big fancy set of stairs to get to stols was a good visual representation of the large class difference they have, being royalty and an imp, as that is a big issue in their relationship. but still, Blitz wasn’t fighting at all; in fact, in Truth Seekers, he RUNS to the stairs, he lets himself get pulled up, he is visibly uncomfortable as the chains appear yet makes so struggle at all as he nears stolas. he blushes and then looks so ASHAMED of it. its a great way to show Blitz’s internal struggles without outright saying it all. he’s afraid of love and ashamed of wanting it, he feels trapped or as i personally think is more accurate here he feels confined/smothered by Stolas’ affections, and he can’t let himself think the prince would ever actually mean what he says so he sees it all as mocking/degrading instead of as the affection Stolas probably means it as, and so he feels stuck.

BUT. butbutbut but when Blitz is chained and faced with Stolas in Mastermind, he isn’t on hands and knees climbing up a metaphorical staircase to reach Stolas—Stolas is basically throwing himself down the fucking stairs for Blitz’s sake. Blitz here is instead FIGHTING the chains with all he has, and rather than being pulled to Stolas he’s fighting to reach out for Stolas himself.

then, the visual parallels of the golden feathers from the same scenes!!!

the symbolism here (from my personal thoughts) is of freedom, and the lack of. going off of Blitz feeling smothered by Stolas as represented by the chains and then more aggressively the golden feathers, the feathers as shown in the hallucination are a product of Stolas, and so I took it as his attention and status and general presence as physically overwhelming Blitz. then in Mastermind, Stolas is instead walking easily through/past the golden feathers, and behind him they fly easily past Blitz as well.

in the same bit there Stolas says “I am the master of my fate” , Blitz says “I realized too late” … i feel like the significance here of Stolas walking past the feathers like this in the context of them representing being smothering/overwhelming/controlling, this is showing Stolas taking control of his life himself for once, like really truly taking full control. no longer is he overwhelmed because in a way, by being disgraced, he’s being freed from the responsibility and weight put on him by his father and generally for his role as a goetia. likewise, Blitz is left to at last look at Stolas and see him clearly without the feathers to blind him—all he sees is Stolas, putting his power and richess and status on the line without hesitation to save his life.

at LONG. long. long last, Blitz is being fully forced to accept Stolas truly loves him, because there is like actually no denial for him now. no “he couldnt love an imp hes a goetia” bro just exchanged EVERYTHING for Blitz’s life in a second, and LOST IT ALL for him. now, they are on basically equal footing for the first time.

and i must say i love how gentle blitz is with stolas after the trial. also everyone MUST remember here that Blitz gave his room up for Loona, so his bed is the couch. and he immediately sets up stolas on the couch. dude gave his bed up again so next ep i best get a shot of them cuddling at last or of blitz determinedly sleeping on the floor

to end my ranting i HAVE TO talk abt the significance of this single scene. forget blitz blushing before this, and forget kissing him on the cheek. ok. listen. this specific frame is so special to me. this is like the first time blitz is —without any witness to prove anything to — showing nonsexual intimate affection . to stolas no less. as stolas is asleep, there is zero pressure to do anything at all, to smile or to be kind or gentle or to do ANYTHING. and he oh so gently brushes the feathers from his face and touches his head lightly for a moment while smiling down at him like that. he’s finally accepted his feelings and he can’t even reasonably doubt Stolas’ affections in this moment, for this single moment everything is so. AUUUSHHHAHAHAHAHAHAJHJGJHA i love this

okay ranting over

final note: i LOVE the song from this ep so much its awesome its stuck in my head vocals were beautiful

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 11,739

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, mention of cannibalism, manipulation, mention of violence,

Summary: Jonathan's been having more trouble with Batman than ever and Y/n wants to help out in a way.

A/N: Holy shit, did this take a very long time to write a part 5 for! My poor baby has been sidelined because of so many request coming through (I swear, everytime I post a fic or something, I get another 2 requests, I have 7 right now that I haven't started on 💀) and also Uni been keeping me from my baby :c (I have had so many assignments, I wanna die)

Sorry, this took so long to come out, but I hope you like this part 💚

(Office Hours/Bells Masterlist) (Part 4) - (Part 6)

-

Y/n's life seemed to be getting better with each day that passed. University days flowed smoothly, she found herself engaging with new friends, and evenings spent in the comfort of home with Jonathan felt like a haven from the world's chaos. She had made progress in managing her dependency on Jonathan. While she still felt a twinge of concern upon waking up without him, it no longer spiraled into full-blown panic.

But for Jonathan, life was a rough sea, each wave threatening to capsize him. Despite his alliance with the Riddler, his adventures as Scarecrow had become a problem. The ongoing vendetta with Two-Face and the Penguin haunted his every move. He protected Y/n from the grim details, keeping the nature of the conflict veiled in secrecy. And the relentless pursuit of Batman added further weight to his burden, his shadow looming over Jonathan's every scheme. Each thwarted plan, each narrow escape, chipped away at his will, leaving him weary and disheartened.

Jonathan's weariness seemed to seep into the very air as he sank onto the couch beside Y/n, the weight of his troubles evident in every crease of his blazer. 

Y/n's heart ached at the sight of him, her concern tender and palpable. "Rough night?" she murmured, her voice a soft in the dimly lit room.

"Isn't it always..." Jonathan's response carried the weight of struggles.

Sensing his need for solace, Y/n drew closer, her touch a soothing caress against his troubled brow. "Who was it this time?" she inquired, her voice laced with sympathy.

"Penguin and Two-Face," Jonathan's tone was tight, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"And was Eddie there?" Y/n probed gently.

"Yeah," Jonathan confirmed, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

Y/n sighed, concern etched across her features. "Did he manage to escape safely?"

"Yeah, though he left me high and dry halfway through," Jonathan's words dripped with bitterness.

Y/n furrowed her brows in thought. "Hmm... as much as I appreciate Eddie's…intelect, maybe it's time you consider aligning with someone more intimidating than the Riddler," she suggested.

"That's easier said than done," Jonathan replied, his tone heavy with the weight of his predicament.

"You literally work at Arkham, I’m sure you can find someone," Y/n scoffed, playfully.

Jonathan ignored her suggestion, his attention moving to the clock on the wall. "You should be heading to bed. You've got uni in the morning," he remarked.

Y/n chuckled, amused by his bullshit distraction. "So do you!"

"Yeah, well, I'm your professor. I don’t want you to doze off during one of my own lectures," Jonathan retorted.

Y/n rose from the couch, a plea in her voice. "At least come to bed with me... please," she pouted.

Jonathan didn’t move, his gaze lingering on her. Y/n sighed, frustration evident, and grabbed his arm. "Let's go!" she tugged, pulling him off the couch.

"Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute. I'll be up in ten," Jonathan said, rising from his seat and making his way to his work desk.

"You better!" Y/n called after him, running the stairs to their bedroom.

As Y/n settled into bed, she couldn't shake off the worry that lingered from Jonathan's troubled demeanor. She knew his burdens weighed heavily on him, but she also understood the importance of his work and the dangers it entailed. One slip up and he’d be sent off to Arkham, and not as a doctor.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours as she waited for Jonathan to join her. Eventually, the metallic creak of the stairs echoed through the warehouse, signaling Jonathan's arrival, his expression still etched with weariness.

"Finally," Y/n teased, patting the empty space beside her on the bed. “You said 10 minutes, that was like 3 hours!”

“It was only half and hour,” Jonathan chuckled as he slipped under the covers, his tired frame sinking into the mattress.

“Still!” Y/n wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

Y/n brushed her fingers through his hair soothingly. "There's nothing to apologize for. Just get some rest now," she reassured him, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

With Y/n's warmth enveloping him, Jonathan finally allowed himself to succumb to the embrace of sleep, grateful for the solace she provided in his hectic world.

-

The lecture had finished and two of them found themselves in Jonathan’s office. As Y/n lounged on Jonathan's couch, she let her mind wander, thinking about potential alliances, hoping to help the relentless pressure weighing on Jonathan.

"How about... Catwoman? You know her?" Y/n proposed, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Jonathan, engrossed in his work, spared a moment to entertain her suggestion. "Catwoman? Just a cat burglar. No use. Besides, everyone knows Batman and her have a thing."

Y/n's brows furrowed in thought as she considered his response. "Hmm, true," she murmured, mentally crossing out Catwoman from her list.

Her eyes lit up with a new idea. "How about Mad Hatter?" she asked, her tone tinged with excitement.

Jonathan paused, briefly considering the possibility. "Jervis... You think Jervis will intimidate people?" he scoffed, a note of judgement coloring his voice.

"Well... maybe not, but can't he like... mind control and stuff?" Y/n persisted, her enthusiasm undeterred.

Jonathan nodded, acknowledging the potential usefulness of Mad Hatter's abilities. "Yeah, he can, but the likelihood of him teaming up with me is not high."

Undeterred by his negativity, Y/n continued to brainstorm. "Hmm, Bane's pretty scary. Wait, wait, wait! Killer Croc!" she exclaimed, a spark of excitement igniting in her eyes.

Jonathan's expression morphed into one of disbelief as he regarded her. "...Did you… did you use your brain before saying that?" he teased, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n's smile never faltered. "Think about it! He's huge! Scary! And probably indestructible."

"Yeah, you forget the part where he's not too fond of people, especially not us doctors," Jonathan pointed out, his tone laced with amusement at her enthusiasm.

"Well, maybe you just need to try being more likable," Y/n suggested with a casual shrug.

Jonathan stood up from his desk, his strides purposeful as he approached Y/n. "You don’t think I’m likable?" he asked, gently lifting her chin with his finger.

Y/n's eyes met his, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You're plenty likable to me, but everyone else thinks you're scary," she replied. "And it's not my opinion that matters, it's Croc's."

Jonathan took a seat beside her, Y/n instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. "And if you can’t get anyone to like you, well then you’re just stuck with Eddie," she concluded, a playful tone coloring her words.

Jonathan sighed, his expression tired. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Y/n flashed him a smile and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Good boy,” she teased gently as she rose from the couch. “Well! You have fun. I have lectures and tutorials to attend.”

“I have somewhere to be this afternoon, so I’ll get Edward to pick you up,” Jonathan informed her.

“Okay, see you tonight then,” Y/n said, exiting his office with a wave.

-

As Y/n stepped out of the university building, the evening breeze carried with it a sense of relief, a welcome rest from the academic hustle and bustle. Her tired eyes scanned the dimly lit street, and she fumbled for her phone as it buzzed with an unknown caller. With a sigh, she answered, expecting Edward's familiar voice.

“Hiya, Eddie,” Y/n said.

“Good evening,” Edward's usual ominous tone greeted her, but the news he had was less than convenient. “I’m afraid it's a rain check tonight. Tell your lover boy I can’t come pick you up, I’m rather… preoccupied,” he explained, his voice tinged with apology.

Y/n couldn't suppress a soft chuckle at his choice of words. “No problem, but Jonathan won't be too pleased. You're becoming quite unreliable in his eyes,” she remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Edward sighed lightly. “Well, perhaps if he stuck to our original plan, I wouldn’t need to leave him hanging. My apologies, nonetheless,” he replied, his tone sincere.

“It’s alright. Goodbye,” Y/n bid farewell, ending the call with a click.

With a quick swipe, she dialed Jonathan's number, anticipating his immediate concern. “Y/n? Is everything alright?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

“I’m good, just a change of plans. Edward can’t make it,” Y/n reassured him, sensing his unease.

There was a muttered curse from Jonathan's end, a testament to his frustration. “I’ll try to make it as quickly as possible then,” he promised, his determination evident.

“I can manage. I’ll catch the bus and walk the rest of the way,” Y/n suggested, knowing she could handle the short journey.

“No, I don’t want you to do that,” Jonathan insisted, his protective instincts kicking in.

Y/n adjusted her bag on her shoulder, already making her way to the bus stop. "Well, I'll be waiting outside either way. Campus is closing up, so I can't stick around indoors," she informed Jonathan.

Jonathan let out a resigned sigh, his concern evident even through the phone. "Okay, just... keep me updated. Text me when you're on the bus, when you're off, and give me a call once you're home," he instructed, his tone protective.

Y/n couldn't help but inject a hint of humor into the situation. "Geez, even my parents weren't this paranoid," she teased lightly.

Jonathan's response was serious, his words weighed down by the reality of Gotham's dangers. "In this city, caution is necessary. Do you understand?" he reiterated, his concern radiating off the phone.

“Yes, yes, I understand. Bye bye,” Y/n reassured him before ending the call, feeling a sense of gratitude for his concern about her safety.

Tucking her phone into her pocket, Y/n stood at the bus stop, her gaze fixed on the approaching headlights. With a soft exhale, she boarded the bus without trouble, finding a seat towards the back.

Settling into her seat, she grabbed her phone and quickly typed a message to Jonathan, informing him that she got on the bus safely. The rhythmic hum of the bus's engine filled the air as she waited for a response, the unfamiliarity of the nighttime bus journey casting a subtle sense of unease over her. Yet, amidst the apprehension, there was a curious sense of peace in the solitude of the bus's dimly lit interior.

As the bus trundled along the familiar route, Y/n's mind wandered, thoughts drifting between the events of the day and the comforting presence of Jonathan awaiting her return. The soft glow of streetlights flickered through the windows, casting shifting patterns across the otherwise dim interior.

Soon, the bus came to a halt at Y/n's designated stop. Gathering her belongings, she rose from her seat and made her way towards the exit, offering a polite ‘thank you’ to the driver as she stepped off onto the sidewalk.

With a quick glance around, Y/n flicked Jonathan another text and beginning the short walk home. The city streets were quiet at this hour, a stark contrast to the bustling chaos of daytime.

As she walked, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, a subtle prickle of awareness tingling at the back of her neck. Hastening her pace, she focused on the familiar landmarks that guided her path, eager to reach the safety of the warehouse.

As Y/n hurried along the deserted sidewalk, she sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle tension that set her nerves on edge. Suddenly, a group of shadowy figures emerged from the darkness, blocking her path.

"Hey, sweetheart, fancy meeting you out here all alone," one of them leered.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she instinctively took a step back, her gaze darting between the menacing strangers. "Please, I don't want any trouble," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

But the men closed in, their intentions unmistakably hostile. "Sorry, doll, but we got orders," another one sneered, stepping forward menacingly. "Two-Face sends his regards."

Y/n's blood ran cold as she realized the gravity of the situation. These men weren't just petty criminals, they were carrying out the bidding of one of Gotham's villains because of some vendetta.

Panic surged through her veins as she searched for an escape route, but the alley behind her was blocked, and the men advanced with predatory intent. Desperation spurred her into action as she braced herself for whatever came next, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

As the tension reached its peak and the menacing men closed in on Y/n, a sudden rush of wind swept through the alley. Before anyone could react, a shadowy figure dropped from the rooftops, landing gracefully in front of the would-be assailants.

The men faltered, their arrogance crumbling in the face of the unexpected arrival. "What the-?" one of them stammered.

The figure stepped forward, emerging from the shadows cast by the flickering streetlights. As his silhouette materialized in the dimly lit alley, a hush fell over the group of men. The air seemed to thicken with tension, charged with the weight of his presence alone. Batman.

Batman's steely gaze swept over the would-be assailants, each piercing stare carrying an unspoken warning that resonated with the force of a thunderclap in the stillness of the night.

Caught off guard by the sudden appearance of Gotham's legendary protector, the men faltered, their confidence crumbling. Uncertainty flickered in their eyes, betraying their inner turmoil as they exchanged nervous glances, silently acknowledging the futility of their actions.

In the deafening silence that followed, no words were needed. The unspoken command of Batman's presence was enough to quell the impending threat, dispersing it like smoke in the wind. With hesitant steps, the men retreated into the darkness, their once-bold demeanor now replaced by a sense of defeat.

Y/n watched as Batman turned to her, his piercing gaze never softening. She sensed an air of interrogation surrounding their encounter, as if every word she’d speak would be questioned. Given her complicated situation with Jonathan, she couldn't shake the feeling she was in fact guilty.

"Thank you," Y/n offered hastily, her gaze dropping to the ground, unable to meet his eyes

As Y/n attempted to move past, the man blocked her path, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. Anxiety surged through her veins as she wondered how Jonathan would react to this situation.

"What are you doing in these parts?" His voice was gruff, heavy with suspicion.

"I live around here," Y/n replied, trying to maintain her composure despite the rising tension.

His scrutinizing gaze bore into her, making her feel exposed under the dim streetlights. "Not many houses around this area," he remarked, his tone sending a shiver down her spine.

"No, there isn't," Y/n agreed, her voice faltering slightly. "Goodbye now." She lowered her head, hoping to evade further confrontation as she essentially pushed past him.

As Y/n walked briskly through the dimly lit streets, her senses were on high alert. Every sound seemed amplified, every shadow appeared menacing. The encounter with Two-Face's henchmen had left her on edge, and the sudden appearance of Batman only heightened her unease.

She could feel the weight of his gaze on her as he spoke, his voice resonating with authority. The darkness seemed to bend around him, adding an air of mystery to his presence.

“Allow me to walk you home,” Batman offered, his tone firm yet reassuring.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she debated how to respond. On one hand, having Batman by her side would undoubtedly deter any further threats. On the other hand, she couldn't let him know where she lived, considering it was a warehouse and Jonathan’s hideout.

“No! It's fine, thank you,” she replied hastily, her voice betraying her nerves.

Glancing over her shoulder, Y/n's heart skipped a beat when she found no trace of Batman. It was as if he had vanished into thin air, leaving behind only the memory of his presence. Surprised by his sudden disappearance, she couldn't shake the sense of awe that accompanied the realization of his silent departure. What they said about him was true.

As Batman vanished into the night, Y/n felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through her. Relief washed over her as she watched him fade into the darkness, yet a lingering sense of unease gnawed at her. With a quickening of her pace, she hurried along the deserted streets, each step fueled by a growing urgency to reach the safety of her home to call Jonathan.

Shaking her head, Y/n turned her focus back to the path ahead, determined to put the encounter behind her. With every stride, she made her way closer to the sanctuary of the warehouse, her thoughts consumed by the figure of the Dark Knight and the mysteries that surrounded him.

Upon reaching the safety of the warehouse, she wasted no time in dialing Jonathan's number. His voice was laced with concern as soon as he answered.

“Did you make it home safe?” he asked urgently, his worry radiating even through the phone.

Y/n hesitated, unsure of how to break the news. “Well, uh… about that…”

“I’m coming home now,” Y/n could hear Jonathan moving around quickly through the phone.

“No, it's fine. Just finish… whatever you're doing, I'm fine now,” Y/n reassured him, her voice faltering slightly.

“Tell me what happened,” Jonathan demanded, his tone firm yet worried.

Y/n took a deep breath before recounting the encounter with Two-Face's goons and the unexpected appearance of Batman. "So, I got off the bus, right? And then these guys came out of nowhere, talking about a 'message from Two-Face.' It was pretty scary, but they didn't lay a finger on me," she explained. “It was pretty fun actually,” Y/n chuckled.

As Y/n tried to inject a hint of humor to lighten the mood, Jonathan's worry remained steadfast, his voice edged with tension.

“Y/n, this is serious,” Jonathan's voice was stern.

Feeling the weight of the situation settle upon her, Y/n couldn't help but sigh. “Well… the Batman showed up…”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line as Jonathan processed her words. “Y/n, am I safe to come home?” his question hung in the air, filled with uncertainty.

“Yes, I… I thanked him and told him to leave me alone,” Y/n replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“But he knows you now. He's going to be suspicious,” Jonathan's mind was already racing with potential consequences.

“Yeah, I know,” Y/n sighed, her thoughts consumed by the implications of their encounter with Gotham's infamous vigilante.

"I'm just finishing up here. I should be back in half an hour. Don't open the door for anyone, don't leave the warehouse, and if something's wrong, call me," Jonathan's voice crackled through the phone.

"I already know this, Jonathan," Y/n replied, her tone laced with a hint of frustration.

"I know," Jonathan acknowledged before hanging up.

Y/n let her hand holding the phone drop to her side, her fingers trembling slightly. She made her way to her bed, the weight of the evening's events bearing down on her. Crawling under the covers, Y/n sought solace in the cocoon of blankets, hoping it would offer some comfort while she waited on Jonathan.

-

Y/n was jolted awake by the echo of the warehouse door slamming shut, she hadn’t even noticed she had fallen asleep. Disoriented and groggy, she blinked several times before realizing where she was. 

"Y/n!" Jonathan's voice pierced through the silence, carrying a tone of urgency.

Pushing herself up from the bed, Y/n's heart raced as she hurried down the stairs, her steps echoing in the space of the warehouse. Before she could even reach the ground floor, Jonathan was there, his presence reassuring and comforting. His hands were warm as they cradled her face, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow.

"Are you okay?" Jonathan's voice was urgent, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.

Y/n managed a weak smile, her own concern momentarily forgotten in the face of Jonathan's worry. "Doing a lot better than you, apparently," she said, chuckling a little even in the tense moment.

But Jonathan's expression remained serious, his brow furrowing even deeper. "I should have known this was going to happen. I should have made sure you were prepared. This is my fault," he murmured, his tone heavy with self-blame.

"Slow down, Jonathan. It's fine, I'm fine," Y/n reassured him, her voice calm and steady despite the lingering remnants of sleep clouding her mind.

Sensing the need for a moment of respite, Jonathan guided Y/n to the nearby couch, his movements gentle yet purposeful. With a sigh, Y/n sank into the cushions, the events of the evening still swirling in her mind as she waited for Jonathan to speak.

"I'm going to make sure this never happens again, okay?" Jonathan's voice was confident. Y/n could only manage a nod in response, her mind still reeling from the recent events.

As Jonathan moved around the room, his purposeful strides echoed in the quiet space. He retrieved something from his workbench and approached Y/n, a small canister in his hand. 

"This is a small canister of my fear gas. You keep this with you always. If you encounter any problems, you spray it in their face. Do not breathe it in," he instructed, pressing the canister into her hand.

"But what about Batman? He'll find out," Y/n asked, putting the canister on the coffee table. He’d know her connection with Scarecrow if she sprayed him with fear gas.

"I'm still figuring that out," Jonathan admitted, a hint of frustration lacing his words as he ran a hand through his hair.

Y/n watched Jonathan's movements with a mix of concern and guilt. Each stride seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, his brows furrowed in deep concentration, the flickering light cast by the single bulb overhead danced across his features, accentuating the lines of worry etched into his face.

As he paced back and forth, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at her insides. She replayed the events of the evening in her mind, each moment a stark reminder of her vulnerability. A knot formed in her stomach, a silent acknowledgment of the burden she unwittingly placed upon him.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/n's gaze drifted downward, her hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap. Picking at the skin around her nails, she couldn't bear to meet Jonathan's eyes, fearing the weight of his disappointment or worse, his blame. Instead, she sought solace in the safety of herself, hoping to find some semblance of clarity amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within her, although nothing could comfort her like Jonathan could.

Suddenly, Jonathan's movements ceased, his attention drawn to Y/n's shift in demeanor. He knelt before her, his hands cradling her face with a tenderness that contrasted his earlier agitation.

"This is not your fault, you know that. None of this is your fault," Jonathan's voice was gentle yet firm, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with hers.

"You are my girl, and it was my duty to protect you. I wasn't there, and for that, I'm sorry," Jonathan confessed, his words laced with sincerity.

Y/n managed a small smile, her heart swelling with warmth at his words. "I'm your girl," she repeated softly.

"That's right, and I'm going to make sure you are never in that situation ever again," Jonathan vowed, sealing his promise with a tender kiss upon her forehead.

Y/n's arms wrapped around Jonathan's neck, her touch a gentle plea for comfort and closeness. "Take me to bed," she murmured, her voice a soft melody in the dimly lit room.

Jonathan's lips curved into a tender smile at her request. "Of course, my dear," he replied, his tone carrying the warmth of affection.

With effortless grace, Jonathan scooped her up from the couch, cradling her in his arms like a doll. He moved with smoothly through the warehouse, navigating the familiar path to their shared bed. Gently lowering her onto the soft mattress, he lingered for a moment, savoring the intimacy of the moment before retreating to change into more comfortable attire.

Meanwhile, Y/n eagerly awaited his return, her heart warm. As Jonathan finished changing into more relaxed clothing, Y/n's eyes sparkled with warmth and adoration.

Climbing into bed beside her, Jonathan enveloped her in his embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against her own. Y/n nestled closer, seeking solace in his arms, her worries momentarily forgotten in the safety of their shared space.

"Can we just stay here tomorrow? I don’t want to go to uni," Y/n murmured softly, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Jonathan's chuckle rumbled through the room. "While you could easily skip out on lectures, I’m the one teaching them, so it won’t be that simple," he teased gently.

Y/n's pout softened into a playful grin as she persisted, her eyes pleading with him to indulge her whims. "My other lecturers and Professors cancel lectures all the time. You can do it too," she urged, her voice filled with mischief.

Jonathan's sighed, a testament to the power she held over him. "For you, I will. But just this once," he relented, his gaze softening with unspoken affection as he met her pleading eyes. Y/n cherished every moment they shared like this.

Y/n's heart swelled with gratitude, a radiant smile lighting up her features as she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. She knew how Jonathan had a soft spot for her and she intended to use it to her advantage.

"Can you tell me what you were doing today?" Y/n asked, look up at Jonathan.

Jonathan hesitated briefly, his expression guarded as he weighed his response. "Just sorting out a mess Batman put me in. Nothing important," he finally replied, his words vague.

Y/n decided not to pry and leaned in closer, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Can I come with you to Arkham next time?" she asked eagerly.

"Why?" Jonathan asked, looking down at her.

"I want to look for potential allies for you," Y/n replied sweetly.

Jonathan's brow furrowed with concern. "It’s a dangerous place, Y/n, you know that. And after tonight, I don’t want you to put yourself at that risk," he cautioned.

"But I have you," Y/n countered softly, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes.

Jonathan's eyes softened as he looked down at Y/n. "Fine, but you don't leave my side," he said.

Y/n met his gaze with a nod. "Understood," she replied.

Jonathan leaned back against the pillows, pulling Y/n closer to him. “Now, go to sleep.” His arm wrapped protectively around her.

Y/n nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. A small smile played on her lips as she closed her eyes.

-

Y/n practically bounced with excitement as they made their way to Arkham. Jonathan, though usually reserved, couldn't help but stress about her safety, especially after last night. The morning air was crisp as they drove in the car, Y/n chattering away about what ever came to her mind.

Jonathan had envisioned a lazy day at home with Y/n, perhaps catching up on some reading or simply enjoying each other's company, but Y/n's eagerness to visit Arkham Asylum to find possible allies for Jonathan sparked a new energy in her, one that Jonathan couldn't resist. Despite his initial reluctance, he found himself giving in.

As they pulled up to the imposing structure, Jonathan turned to her, his expression serious as he outlined the rules for their visit.

"You don't speak to anyone unless I allow it," he began, his voice carrying a weight of authority. "If we interact with a patient, you stay behind me. You don't leave my office unless I say you can, and only with me accompanying you. Understand?"

Y/n nodded eagerly, she had already forgotten the first rule. "Got it," she replied.

As they stepped through the doors of Arkham, Y/n couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine. The air seemed to grow colder, the atmosphere thick with an eerie quietness was sometimes broken with screams of patients through the walls of the facility. 

Following the security protocols, they passed by stern-faced guards who eyed, their presence a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked within the walls of Arkham. Y/n felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it aside. It’s not like it was her first time at Arkham, but today, it just felt different. 

As they walked down the corridors, the air was heavy with the scent of antiseptic, mingling with the faint hint of decay that seemed to linger in the air. They passed by other doctors and staff members, each lost in their own world as they hurried about their duties. Y/n offered polite nods and smiles as they passed. Finally, they arrived at their destination, the door looming before them like a gateway to another world.

Entering Jonathan's office, Y/n took in the familiar sight with a playful smirk. Not a single thing had changed from when she was last there. "Wow, you sure changed things up in here, didn’t ya?" she teased, glancing around at the familiar decor.

Jonathan closed the door behind them with a soft click. "Well, you know me," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/n's eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned to face him. "So... can I take a look at some patient files?" she asked, sweetly.

"I have a few patient files in that cabinet," he said, pointing toward a nearby filing cabinet. "But those are just the ones I have access to, the rest you’d have to look up on the computer. God, why am I encouraging this," Jonathan sighed, shaking his head slightly.

Y/n grinned, moving toward the cabinet. "Because deep down, you know you could use another ally. Edward has been doing… admirably, but the two of you could use some extra assistance," she remarked, pulling open the cabinet door.

Rummaging through the files in the cabinet, Y/n couldn't find anything particularly intriguing at first. Nonetheless, she knew she had to comb through them thoroughly. Pulling out a stack of files, she placed them on the floor and settled in front of them.

As she sifted through the scattered documents, Y/n let out an exasperated sigh. "This is going to be..." Her words trailed off abruptly as her eyes landed on a familiar name. "Hey! It's Eddie's file!" she exclaimed, snatching up the folder labeled ‘Edward Nygma’.

Y/n eagerly flipped through the pages, scanning Jonathan's notes on Edward's behavior with keen interest. As Y/n delved into Edward's file, she couldn’t help the cheeky smile that sat on her face.

"Let's see what we've got there," Y/n said.

Y/n scanned through the pages until she reached Jonathan's comments. "Hmm, it says here that Edward's behavior has been erratic, with notable mood swings and a tendency towards belittling people," she summarized, glancing up at Jonathan.

Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. "And my point still stands, Edward can be quite the pain at times. He's a brilliant mind, but his ego can be a challenge to manage. He's proven himself to be a valuable ally, albeit a complicated one," he explained, his brow furrowing slightly.

Y/n set the file aside with a sigh. "True, we can't have two Edwards, as delightful as that might seem.”

Y/n immersed herself in the task, each file a window into the troubled minds housed within Arkham's walls. She carefully studied the details, from the patients' histories to their treatment plans, searching for any glimmer of hope among the darkness. Some files bore the scars of past trauma, while others hinted at the depths of madness that consumed the paitents.

Despite the grim surroundings, Y/n remained undeterred, her will unwavering as she searched through the records. She knew that finding the right ally for Jonathan was crucial, and she refused to let the daunting task daunt her.

-

As Y/n sifted through the final file, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling of disappointment. Deep down, she knew the individual she had in mind wouldn't be found among these records. Still, she looked through them hoping that another potential ally would catch her eye before she reached the inevitable conclusion. But that sadly did not happen.

Y/n's disappointment lingered like a heavy cloud as she leaned against the couch behind her. Jonathan, absorbed in his paperwork, looked over at her.

"Didn't find anyone?" Jonathan's voice broke the silence.

Y/n shook her head, her lips forming a small frown. "No," she murmured.

Rising from his desk with a sigh, Jonathan approached her, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of her frustration. He offered a hand as they began to gather the files strewn across the floor.

Together, they arranged the files back into the cabinet, the soft click of folders echoing in the quiet room. Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as she closed the cabinet door.

Jonathan's touch was gentle as he cupped her face in his hands, his eyes reflecting understanding and compassion. "Thank you for trying to help me," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to her disappointed thoughts.

"I just want you to be safe," Y/n confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to lose you."

Jonathan's expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek. "I know, Dear. And I promise you, I will never leave you," he vowed, his words infused with sincerity.

A tender kiss sealed their unspoken promise, the warmth of Jonathan's lips against hers a reminder of the care that bound them together.

“I’m going to get you something to eat, you’ve worked really hard. Feel free to use my computer.” As he offered her the use of his computer, Y/n's mind raced with anticipation, her pulse quickening with renewed hope.

Alone in the quiet office, Y/n wasted no time in accessing Jonathan's work files, her fingers moving with purpose as she typed in the name she had been longing to find: 'Waylon Jones.' With each keystroke, her excitement grew, anticipation thrumming in her veins as she delved into the possibilities that lay ahead.

Only one file was shown on the screen. She hadn't anticipated much information, and true to her expectations, the file offered little beyond a photo, a name, and the location of the detainee. Still, it was a small victory to have confirmation that he was indeed housed at Arkham.

As she clicked through the sparse details, Y/n couldn't suppress a wry smile. The file painted a vivid picture of the individual in question: big, aggressive, and extremely resistant to any attempts at examination or treatment from doctors. It seemed he had garnered quite the reputation among the staff, earning him the privilege of a solitary confinement cell, though it sounded more like a shitty underground chamber than a conventional cell.

According to the file, Waylon Jones, also known as Killer Croc, had been transferred from Blackgate Penitentiary after a series of violent incounters with other inmates, that including cannibalism, this prompting his relocation to Arkham's more secure confines. With no mention of guards stationed outside his cell, it seemed they deemed the iron door barrier formidable enough to deter any escape attempts.

As Y/n absorbed the details, a surge of excitement coursed through her veins. The thought of finding a potential ally for Jonathan filled her with anticipation. However, her excitement quickly gave way to a sinking feeling of dread. She realized that Jonathan would never allow her to come into contact with someone as dangerous as Killer Croc. His aggressive reputation and cannibalistic tendencies made him too great a risk.

Glancing at her phone, she saw the message from Jonathan. He said that while getting her food, he was caught up by other doctors and forced along to an unexpected paitent emergency. With her heart racing and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Y/n made a split-second decision. She would take matters into her own hands, consequences be damned. With Jonathan occupied and unavailable for atleast an hour, she saw a narrow window of opportunity opening before her. 

Rummaging through Jonathan's desk drawers, Y/n's fingers fumbled in search of an additional access card of his. She knew her visitor pass would only grant her limited access, and if she were to proceed with her impromptu plan, she needed all the clearance she could get.

With an access card in hand and her resolve steeled, Y/n braced herself for what lay ahead. Was this very last minute and stupid? Absolutely! Could she possibly die? More than likely. Did she wish she could take a shot of vodka first? 100%. Yet, despite the looming dangers and uncertainties, she couldn't suppress a faint flicker of hope.

Stepping out of the office, Y/n's pulse quickened with every beat. She closed the door behind her with a soft click, casting a wary glance down the dimly lit hallway. The eerie silence that enveloped the corridor sent a shiver down her spine. The absence of security measures was glaringly evident, something that should have brought her little comfort instead made her feel at ease.

Despite her guilt for disregarding Jonathan's instructions, Y/n clung to the hope that her disobedience would prove to be useful. Perhaps she could return before he even realized she was gone, and if everything goes well, she might present Jonathan with a potential ally.

Y/n's gaze flitted nervously from side to side, taking in every detail of her surroundings. The walls were lined with faded posters and peeling paint, remnants of attempts to brighten the otherwise gloomy corridors. A shiver ran down her spine as she passed by the occasional door, worried someone was going to pop out at any minute.

As she reached the map mounted on the wall, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly as she aimed her phone to capture the image. The soft glow of her screen illuminated the map, revealing a maze of corridors and rooms, each labeled discreetly.

With the photo safely stored on her phone, Y/n continued her journey towards the elevator. The low hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed in her ears. Every step brought her closer to the elevator, which only brought the feeling of unease.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft hiss, Y/n stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the unknown as she scanned Jonathan’s access card and pressed the button for the basement floor. The elevator lurched into motion, descending into the depths of Arkham Asylum.

She sighed in relief as the card granted her access, though the ease with which she snuck around Arkham only served to boost her nerves. The dimly lit hallway stretched before her, its atmosphere adding to her sense of unease. 

Y/n found herself appalled by the lack of security measures as she descended to the bottom floor. Pulling out her phone to consult the map, she cursed as the map to photographed only covered floors 3 and 4, prompting a groan of frustration. Nevertheless, she pressed on, determined to navigate the unfamiliar territory.

Fortunately, another map awaited her, and she quickly snapped a photo before studying it intently. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered above as she traced the route to Killer Croc's cell, designated as WC286. She couldn't help but scoff at the irony of housing such a dangerous inmate in what appeared to be the dank confines of the sewers.

"How humane," Y/n muttered sarcastically as she set off toward her destination.

Each step echoed against the concrete walls, accompanied by the ominous sounds of dripping pipes that seemed to heighten her unease.

Arriving at what she assumed to be the designated food storage area for Croc, Y/n hesitated momentarily before opening the refrigerator. The sight that greeted her was disgusting. An array of raw, whole chickens arranged haphazardly on the shelves. The pungent odor of blood and decay wafted from within, assaulting her senses and causing her to gag.

Despite her disgust, Y/n selected a chicken, her fingers recoiling slightly from its slimy surface. With a steadying breath, she closed the fridge and turned her attention to the door leading to Croc's cell. The anticipation coiled in her stomach. This was it. 

As she approached the heavy door, Y/n's pulse quickened, her hand trembling slightly as she swiped Jonathan's access card. The electronic beep of the scanner reverberated in the corridor, amplifying her anxiety. With bated breath, she watched as the indicator light flashed green, signaling her entry.

With a hesitant motion, Y/n released the lock mechanism, the metallic click resonating in the silence. Gripping the door handle tightly, she pushed it open, the heavy metal creaking ominously against its hinges. As the threshold of Croc's cell loomed before her, Y/n readied herself for the encounter, bracing for whatever lay beyond.

As Y/n stepped across the threshold, a chill swept over her, sending shivers down her spine. The dim, flickering light cast eerie shadows that danced along the damp walls of the sewer. The air was thick with the musty scent of decay, mingling with the metallic tang of moisture and the faint hint of something primal and animalistic.

With cautious steps, Y/n descended into the depths of the sewer, her footsteps echoing against the cold, wet floor. The narrow path stretched out before her, twisting and turning into darkness. 

"Hello?" Y/n's voice bounced off the walls. "I, uh... I brought some chicken."

A sudden ripple broke the silence, disturbing the murky water nearby. Y/n's heart leaped into her throat as she spun around, her eyes widening in alarm. Emerging from the depths was a figure, its form obscured by the murky waters. As it drew closer, the dim light revealed its scaly, green skin, and its piercing yellow eyes glowed with an eerie intensity.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she instinctively raised the chicken in a feeble attempt at a peace offering. "I'm not a doctor!" she blurted out, her voice trembling with fear.

The echoes of Y/n's words lingered in the cavernous space as she stood, her senses heightened, acutely aware of the looming figure before her. Waylon's form, still submerged, seemed to meld with the darkness. Each movement sent ripples across the murky water below.

“You lost, girl?” Waylon's gravelly voice cut through the silence. Y/n felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She swallowed nervously, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the sewer.

"No," Y/n responded, her voice barely above a whisper, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

The faint glint of curiosity flickered in Waylon's yellow eyes as he regarded her with suspicion. His presence exuded an aura of primal strength, sending a shiver down Y/n's spine.

As she struggled to find her words, Y/n pressed herself against the cold, damp wall, seeking some semblance of security in the darkness that enveloped them. “Then what are you doing here?” She could feel the weight of Waylon's gaze, an unspoken challenge in his penetrating stare.

Summoning her courage, Y/n introduced herself, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “My name is Y/n.”

“So?” Waylon's response was a low, guttural growl, his demeanor unyielding as he judged her.

Y/n's heart raced as she struggled to find a reason for her presence in this desolate place. “I would like to be acquaintances, or something,” The fear of his impending judgment hung heavy in the air, suffocating her attempts at explanation.

“Why?” He asked, moving closer to her through the water.

With a shaky breath, Y/n said “I would like your help,” her words faltering in the face of Waylon's imposing figure. The tension between them was palpable, a silent exchange of power and vulnerability.

“And what’s stopping me from eating you?” Waylon's question echoed in the darkness, a stark reminder of the risk of her situation.

“Nothing… but if you’re hungry, you can have chicken,” Y/n's pulse quickened as she extended the offering of chicken.

His eyes shifted between her and the chicken. Suddenly, Waylon lunged up, out of the water. Y/n screamed, her senses overwhelmed by the rush of water and the frightening movement of the creature before her.

As the echoes of her startled scream faded into the darkness, Y/n found herself trembling, her pulse racing with adrenaline. The encounter had left her shaken, yet she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the fear. She was okay. 

Waylon tore into the chicken with primal ferocity, his sharp teeth gnashing at the bones with a savage hunger. Y/n watched in a mixture of fascination and disgust, her hand recoiling as she realized it had just held the now-devoured meal.

As Waylon remained preoccupied with his feast, Y/n took the moment to attempt to clean her hand. With a grimace of disgust, she crouched down and swished her hand into the murky water, a futile attempt to cleanse away the filth.

Her efforts were met with Waylon's gruff observation, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “That water ain’t clean, girl.” Y/n's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she withdrew her hand.

Desperate to shift the focus away from her awkward blunder, Y/n attempted to strike up a conversation, her voice laced with forced casualness. “So uhh… you like it down here?” She glanced around the dimly lit surroundings, the oppressive atmosphere weighing heavily on her.

“Would you?” Waylon's response was blunt, his words carrying the weight of bitter resignation. Y/n couldn't help but empathize with the sense of isolation and despair that permeated the damp confines of the sewer.

“Uh.. no, no I would not..” The realization of the stark contrast between her privileged existence and Waylon's grim reality struck a chord within her, filling her with a profound sense of gratitude for the life she took for granted above ground.

Finishing the chicken, Waylon regarded her with skepticism, his imposing figure still partially submerged in the murky water. His demeanor had softened slightly, no longer radiating the same intimidating presence as before.

"Why you need my help?" His asked, curiously.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing her words. "Have you heard of Dr. Crane?" she asked, her tone lowered to a hushed whisper.

“What about him?” Waylon asked, sounding tense. 

“You know his… alter ego?” Y/n said, discreetly. 

"The Crow Boy," he muttered, his words filled with an air of familiarity.

Y/n nodded in acknowledgment. "He's facing some... problems with a certain… bird and… coin," she continued cryptically, her eyes darting around the surroundings for any signs of eavesdroppers.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Waylon's piercing gaze fixed on Y/n.

"I was wondering if you could help him… be an ally," Y/n replied.

Waylon remained silent for a moment, contemplating her proposal. "I ain't much help in here," he scoffed.

A flicker of determination sparked in Y/n's eyes as she leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can help you," she said, her words filled with hope.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she felt the vibration in her pocket. With a gasp, she grabbed her phone from her pocket, her stomach twisting with apprehension. It was Jonathan.

She answered with a shaky voice, "Hello?"

The stern tone of Jonathan's voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Where are you?" he demanded, his concern hidden behind his blank anger.

"Um, sorry, I'm on my way back," Y/n replied hastily, not giving Jonathan a chance to respond before hanging up.

Waylon observed her with a knowing expression, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I take it you didn't tell him of your little visit down here?" he remarked dryly.

"I have to go," Y/n said hurriedly, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

With a quick glance back at Waylon, Y/n offered a brief wave. "I'll see you later," she called out before darting off towards the security door.

Y/n's heart raced as she completed the security measures at the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she ensured everything appeared undisturbed. Y/n paused for a moment, with a cautious glance over her shoulder, she surveyed the corridor behind her, her senses on high alert. Satisfied that all seemed quiet and undisturbed, she turned back around to continue on her way.

But as she turned, her breath caught in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat. Standing right in front of her was Jonathan. The unexpected sight sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she froze in place, her pulse quickening with a mix of surprise and apprehension.

"Uh… hey, Jonathan..." Y/n's voice faltered, a nervous edge creeping into her tone.

Jonathan's response was a stern silence, his features rigid with barely contained anger.

"Jonathan?" Y/n's voice wavered as she tried to meet his gaze, but he remained stoically silent, his jaw set in a tight line.

Without a word, he grabbed her wrist in a firm grip, his fingers closing around her skin with a vice-like grip. Y/n let out a small gasp of surprise, her pulse quickening at the thightness of his grip.

With a tug, Jonathan began to drag her towards the elevator, his grip unyielding as he pulled her into the elevator. Y/n stumbled slightly, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to keep pace with his stride. Each step feeling heavier than the last as the weight of Jonathan's anger bore down upon her.

As they reached the elevator, Jonathan scanned his ID. The soft hum of the elevator filled the tense silence between them as they waited, the air thick with unspoken tension.

When the doors slid open, Jonathan released her wrist, but his gaze remained fixed upon her with an intensity that made her skin prickle with unease. Without a word, he gestured for her to exit the elevator, his silent command clear.

With a trembling breath, Y/n stepped out, the weight of Jonathan's silent anger heavy upon her shoulders. 

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest with nervousness. With each step closer to Jonathan's office, her stomach twisted into tighter knots of anxiety, a sense of unease settling over her like a heavy fog.

Upon reaching the door, Y/n hesitated, her hand hovering over the handle as she braced herself for what would lay ahead. Jonathan's presence behind her felt suffocating, his towering figure casting a shadow over her as he stood just a breath away.

With a sharp click, Jonathan unlocked the door. Y/n entered the office as Jonathan followed close behind her. The door closed with a resounding thud, sealing them both in a confined space.

Turning to face Jonathan, Y/n felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her fingers trembling with nerves. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, Jonathan's voice cut through the air like a whip, sharp and unforgiving.

"Jonathan, I—" Y/n began, but her words were drowned out by the force of his anger, his voice bouncing off the walls of the small office.

"What were you thinking?" Jonathan's voice was filled with anger, his eyes blazing with barely contained rage.

"You kn—" Y/n attempted to explain herself, but Jonathan's outburst was relentless.

"Do you know how dangerous that was, Y/n?!" Jonathan's words came out in a flood of frustration, his tone harsh.

"Yes, but I—" Y/n tried to protest, but Jonathan's tirade showed no signs of stopping, his anger boiling over.

"I told you to stay here, but you didn't listen to me! Not only that, but you took my access card, and now there's probably footage of you going into Croc's cell! I'm going to have to go through the files and delete whatever footage there is of you!" Jonathan walked back and forth, trying to get a hold of his frustration.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. I know I've probably caused so much trouble for you," Y/n began. She glanced down at the access card in her hand, a silent acknowledgment of her mistake.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed as he regarded her, his brow furrowed with frustration. "You could have died, Y/n. What were you thinking!" His voice boomed in the office, echoing off the walls with a force that made Y/n flinch.

Feeling the weight of Jonathan's disappointment, Y/n took a step forward, her heart racing. "I was thinking about you! I'm sorry, I should have told you, but look, I'm okay!" Her voice wavered slightly, her eyes pleading for him to understand.

Jonathan's laughter cut through the tension, but there was no humor in it, only a bitter edge that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. "You are never leaving the warehouse," he laughed, his eyes filled with darkness.

Y/n's shoulders sagged with the weight of his words, but she refused to back down. "Jonathan, please! Waylon is willing to help!" Her voice rose in urgency.

Jonathan's stomped around the room, his anger radiating off of him. Y/n stood rooted to the spot, her pulse racing as she watched him gather his belongings. The click of his briefcase snapping shut echoed like a final verdict.

With a sharp intake of breath, Jonathan's hand closed around Y/n's wrist, his grip tight and unyielding. She winced at the pressure, feeling the weight of his anger bearing down on her.

"Jonathan, please..." Y/n's voice wavered.

But Jonathan's response cut her off. "Stop talking," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. Y/n fell silent, her heart sinking with the weight of his disappointment.

The hallway seemed to stretch on endlessly as Jonathan marched forward with determined strides. Y/n hurried to keep up, her steps clumsy as she struggled to match his pace. Her heart hammered in her chest, the weight of regret and guilt bearing down on her with each passing moment. Jonathan's shoulders were squared and jaw set in a firm line.

Tears threatened to spill from Y/n's eyes as Jonathan's grip on her wrist tightened, a silent, but bruising reminder of his anger. She swallowed hard, wishing she could turn back time and undo her reckless actions.

As they reached the exit, the cool air outside offered little relief from the stifling tension between them. Y/n cast a glance back at the now-empty hallway, praying no one saw the two of them. He practically forced Y/n into the passenger seat of his car, the force of his actions leaving her shaken.

Behind the wheel, Jonathan's jaw was set, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he drove with single-minded focus. The tension in the car was tight, a silent testament to the breach of trust between them.

As they pulled up to the warehouse, Jonathan slammed the car door shut with a resounding thud. Y/n hesitated, her hands trembling as she reached for the door handle. She had no time before Jonathan pulled open her door and yanked her out.

Wordlessly, Jonathan unlocked the warehouse door and ushered Y/n inside. The atmosphere inside was heavy with tension, each step echoing with the weight of their strained relationship.

Y/n trailed behind Jonathan as he moved through the warehouse, each click of the lock sending a shiver down her spine. His movements were methodical, reminiscent of the way he had locked her in when he first brought her here. The sound of the locks sliding into place echoed in the silence, sealing off any chance of escape. Y/n's heart sank as she watched Jonathan lock the warehouse door. The sound echoed in the empty space, filling her with a sense of dread. She couldn't bear the thought of being trapped again. Jonathan's jaw was set in a rigid line, his eyes cold and distant as he shut her out, both physically and emotionally.

Tears welled in Y/n's eyes as she struggled to find the right words to explain herself. "Jonathan, please," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was just trying to help."

But Jonathan remained silent, his back turned to her as he continued his task. The sound of locks clicking shut reverberated through the warehouse, each one sealing her fate a little more tightly.

Jonathan's expression softened slightly as he turned to face Y/n, his gaze piercing through her tear-filled eyes. "Y/n, I need you to understand the gravity of what you've done," he began, his voice heavy with disappointment. "You put yourself in danger, disregarding every warning I've given you. Do you realize how reckless that was?"

Y/n nodded weakly, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, Jonathan," she managed to choke out between sobs.

Jonathan's features softened further as he knelt down in front of her, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. "I know you didn't, but that doesn't change the fact that your actions could have had serious consequences," he said softly. "I need you to promise me that you'll never do something like this again."

Y/n nodded, her tears continuing to flow unabated. "I promise, Jonathan. I'll never do anything like this again," she vowed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jonathan pulled her into a comforting embrace, holding her close as they both sought solace in each other's presence. Despite the turmoil of the moment, there was an unspoken understanding between them.

As Jonathan held her close, Y/n couldn't help but feel like a child, being told off by an adult. She buried her face in his chest, seeking comfort in his embrace while silently chastising herself for her impulsive actions. 

Y/n slowly collected herself, she realized Jonathan's actions were likely meant to be more of a warning to scare her than an actual punishment. As Jonathan pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Go clean yourself up," Jonathan said gently. "I need to call Edward."

With a nod, Y/n rose from her place on the floor. She headed off to the shower. Despite feeling shaken by Jonathan's reaction, she couldn't deny the underlying sense of relief that washed over her. Deep down, she knew that his protectiveness stemmed from a place of genuine concern and affection. While his actions had scared her, she understood that they were necessary, a stark reminder of the dangers she had exposed herself to.

As she processed it all, a wave of gratitude washed over her, mingling with a profound sense of dependence on Jonathan. Despite being the cause of her distress, he was also the only one who could soothe her troubled mind. In his arms, she found solace and security, a comforting refuge from the frightening world.

-

Y/n's shower was quick. Stepping out into the dimly lit expanse of the warehouse which she called home, she felt the weight of Jonathan's gaze before she even saw him. He was immersed in his work at the workbench, the soft glow of the computer screen casting shadows across his features.

Intrigued, Y/n approached him, her curiosity piqued by the images flickering across the monitor. As she peered over his shoulder, she caught sight of the video footage from Arkham playing on the screen, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

"Is this what you called Edward for?" Y/n asked.

Jonathan glanced up, his gaze meeting hers through the lenses of his glasses. “Yes,” he replied simply.

Without a word, he gestured for her to join him, his silent invitation drawing her closer. Tentatively, she settled onto his lap, nestling into his embrace. She felt a sense of familiarity and warmth wash over her, easing the tension that had knotted her muscles.

Together, they watched the footage unfold, the scenes playing out before them like a silent movie. She found herself leaning into him, seeking solace in his touch and the safety of his embrace. His touch was gentle against her skin, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of her thoughts.

"I apologize for how I treated you earlier," Jonathan's words were soft against her cheek, his breath warm against her skin.

Y/n offered a faint smile, a silent acknowledgment of his apology while her heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and relief. “It’s okay,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Jonathan leaned his head against her shoulder, his warmth enveloping her like a protective shield against the world. “I shouldn’t be encouraging this, but it looks like you did well… Waylon didn’t seem to mind you,” he observed.

Resting her head against Jonathan's shoulder, she allowed herself a moment of relief, her gaze fixed on the screen before them.  Y/n couldn't help but smile at his words, a sense of accomplishment swelling within her chest.

But her joy was short-lived as Jonathan's expression turned somber, his gaze fixed on the screen as he changed the video. “But I need you to understand the gravity of your actions.”

The images flickered and danced across the surface, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of Gotham. As the new footage played, revealing the unsettling scene of Waylon's sudden aggression towards a doctor, Y/n's breath caught in her throat. The brutality of the scene sent a shiver down her spine, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

“You understand why I was worried now?” Jonathan's voice was soft, yet held authority.

Y/n nodded slowly, her expression reflecting the shock and concern that still lingered within her. “How do we know he won’t do that to you?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly with uncertainty.

“We don’t,” Jonathan admitted. “But I’m going to have to find out how to deal with it, not you.”

A flicker of determination flashed across Y/n's features. “I could do it, you saw how he treated me,” she offered.

Jonathan sighed. “Even with my consent, Arkham would never allow it and I can’t be messing around with the cameras all the time, someone’s going to notice,” he explained with a sigh. “I'll just have to see if I can take him as a patient and work from there.”

In the quiet aftermath of their conversation, Y/n couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. She just hoped Jonathan would be safe. 

-

Y/n's heart raced with excitement as she slipped out into the night, her footsteps echoing softly in the deserted streets. She knew she probably shouldn't have gone out alone, especially at this hour, but the thought of surprising Jonathan with freshly baked cookies was too enticing to resist. 

With the fear gas canister tucked securely in her pocket, Y/n felt a newfound sense of confidence coursing through her veins. She couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of being out on her own, even if just for a short while. 

As she made her way towards the supermarket, the cool night air brushed against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Despite the darkness looming around her, Y/n couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. The walk was only 10 minutes at most and she felt safe with the fear gas given to her by Jonathan.

Sure, there was always the lingering concern of encountering Batman, but Y/n pushed that thought to the back of her mind. After all, she reasoned, the chances of an innocent girl like her crossing paths with the caped crusader twice in in a life time were practically zero.

Picking up groceries from the supermarket was easy enough, and with her bags in hand, Y/n began her journey back home. As she neared the warehouses, however, a sense of unease crept over her like a shadow.

"Stupid nerves," she muttered under her breath, cursing herself for feeling frightened.

Every rustle in the darkness made her heart skip a beat, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger. "Come on, Y/n. It's not like anyone's actually here," she reassured herself, though the words did little to quell her rising anxiety.

But then, just as she was about to dismiss her fears, a voice sliced through the silence from the shadows. “I wouldn’t count on that.” 

Y/n's scream echoed in the night as Batman emerged before her, his imposing figure casting a long shadow in the dim light.

"Are you kidding me?" Y/n spat out, frustrated. This wasn't her first encounter with the Dark Knight, and this time, she wasn't about to cower in fear as there was nothing to fear. 

"Did I startle you?" Batman's question rang hollow in the tense air, almost sarcastically.

"Nah, I just screamed at the fucking moon," Y/n retorted, clearly irritated. All she wanted was to return home and bake her cookies.

Ignoring Batman's presence, Y/n turned on her heel and began to walk away, only for him to step out in front of her. Her heart leaped into her throat, what does he want with her?

"Do you mind?" Y/n asked, attempting to maintain her composure.

"There was footage of you at Arkham," Batman stated bluntly.

Feeling like she was under interrogation, Y/n tried to keep her cool. "How do you know who I am?" she countered.

"You went missing a couple of months ago, hard not to know you," Batman replied evenly.

"I was never missing," Y/n refuted.

"Why were you at Arkham?" Batman pressed on.

"I'm a psychology student at Gotham University. My professor takes me there for learning purposes," Y/n explained, her voice steady despite the tension.

"You're rather close to this Professor," Batman observed.

"He's a friend. I'm the only student that ever attends the office hours, so he knows me well," Y/n replied, the words carrying a hint of defensiveness. It wasn't entirely a lie.

"Some of the footage at Arkham was altered, footage of you, I assume," Batman's words sent a chill down her spine. 

“Cool…and?” Y/n pretended not to care, trying to hide her nerves, but she was running out of excuses.

“I managed to uncover that footage. What were you doing in the basement?” Batman's tone was firm, demanding answers.

“I was curious,” Y/n replied vaguely, hoping to deflect his questions.

“Curious of Killer Croc?” Batman pressed, his voice laced with suspicion.

“Naturally,” Y/n answered, keeping her responses brief.

“Are you aware of how dangerous a man like Killer Croc is?” Batman's question was stern.

“Yeah, my professor drilled that message into me afterwards, but he attacks doctors, not visitors, so I thought I’d be safe, and clearly, I was.” Y/n explained, attempting to rationalize her actions to Batman.

“Why did you look for Killer Croc?” Batman's interrogation continued.

“I told you, curiosity,” Y/n repeated, her tone firm despite the rising tension.

"No one does something as dangerous as that out of curiosity," Batman's words hung heavy in the air.

Y/n's chest tightened with a mixture of frustration and anger. His statement struck a nerve. 

"Well, maybe that's the problem with you," she countered sharply, her voice laced with anger. "You only see these people as enemies and dangerous. No wonder Waylon attacks the doctors, it's people like you that drill the message that Waylon’s a monster into people's heads."

With determination flashing in her eyes, Y/n pushed past Batman, her steps purposeful as she continued walking. But even in her departure, a lingering sense of conviction halted her stride. She pivoted on her heel, facing Batman once more.

"He’s no monster," she said, her voice ringing out in the stillness of the night. "He’s just like any other patient at Arkham. Everyone has a bad day now and then."

With her chin held high and her words echoing in the alley, Y/n turned away from Batman, striding off into the shadows with an air of defiance and self-assurance.

As Y/n finally arrived home, the weight of the encounter with Batman settled heavily upon her shoulders. The realization of what had transpired washed over her like a cold wave, sending a shiver down her spine. 

"Great, now Batman's probably going to be keeping an eye on me," she muttered to herself, a knot of worry forming in her chest.

But she quickly pushed aside her worry, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. With a determined sigh, she managed to bury her concerns for the time being and instead try to distract herself.

"Let's just make those cookies for Jonathan," she said aloud, mustering a faint smile in an attempt to reassure herself.

Y/n wondered whether to disclose her encounter with Batman to Jonathan. The idea of revealing such a tense exchange left her feeling hesitant, unsure of how he would react. However, she knew one thing for certain. She couldn't afford to let her guard down. Not anymore.

-

A/N: Holy fuck, am I glad to post part five to this fic, sorry it took so long 💚

A bit boring, this part, but I wanted to post this part and I had a loT planed for this part, but decided it would not only take too long but it would be so long for one chapter, so I broke it up into two parts.

I hope you like where this fic is headed and are excited for the next part (Whenever that might be 💀)

I wrote Batman in here with the Animated Series!Batman in mind, so if he doesn't seem like Nolan!Batman, that's why (although, I don't even know if I did it that well). But yeah, I tend to write for different characters from different universes and just hope they play out well :p

I was watching "Love is a Croc" episode (one of my favorite) while writing this, so i kinda had him in mind while writing. Still mad how he betrayed Babydoll light that 😤 but Waylon my baby, so I forgive him.

I have a lot of other requests to get through first and assignments (not month I am on break, so I'll be able to write more often)

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed :)

[sugurusluts]

Zuko x mercenary!reader -part one

Do people still read Zuko x reader fics?

Mostly for my own amusement bc Zukos adorable- longer than my usual stuff! ♡︎

Warnings: none

————————————————————————

They had followed our little gang around the world, so it wasn’t hard to imagine they’d track Aang here, but they didn’t seem in any mood to strike.

I couldn’t help but feel defensive of the kingdom, even if the two were doing nothing but serving tea. I worked as a mercenary for whatever town seemed to need assistance. Despite not knowing any form of bending, I had connections, and that made me an asset.

Having worked around this place more times than I could count, I knew almost everyone. Most of everyone around town were good people, the type to invite you over for dinner just for giving them a hand in the fields.

Knowing someone like Zuko was around them made me uneasy, that was until Iroh approached me.

“Ah, a mercenary! What mercenary wouldn’t want to help a poor frail old man?” He whined dramatically, from behind me.

“Iroh” my hand tightened on my sword, I assumed there was an unspoken rule that neither group would bother eachother if they truly wanted to live in peace. Maybe I misread this dynamic?

“Good to see you too Y/N, you can losen your grip, im not here to fight you. I couldn’t care less about the Avatar, you know that”

I tilted my head in confusion, what else would he be here for? I couldn’t bring myself to believe he was now a hard working humble business man.

“Would you mind talking to me for just a minute, I’ll make it worth your while” he grinned, holding out a few gold coins he scrounged out of his pockets.

I caved from curiosity, following him as he walked me through a crowd, far away from his new little shop, leading me to a small alley.

“So..why did we have to go to an alleyway for this? Are you gonna mug me?”

“No such thing, I actually have a job for you”

I scoffed, the fuck made him think I’d want to take work from him? I turned on my heel, disappointed at the lack of information he gave me.

“Zuko’s lonely!”

I stopped in my tracks, turning back to Iroh, dumbfounded.

“Zuko’s lonely?”

“Painfully so, you know how hard it is to watch my nephew be such an introvert at his age?”

I rolled my eyes, “what does any of this have to do with me exactly?”

“Well, you could possibly help the poor boy out, couldn’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m asking you to ask him on a date”

“…”

“…”

Jesus fucking Christ he can’t be serious right now.

“You want me to ask the guy who’s tried to kill my friend more times than I can count on a date?”

“Precisely!”

“…Iroh, I’m not a prostitute, I’m not asking Zuko out for cash. He wouldn’t even agree to it either, he’d recognize me.”

The man sighed, pulling out a fabric bag filled to the brim with gold coins. God Zuko was a lost cause.

“Lay on the charm, and maybe he will!”

He dropped the bag in my hand, holy shit was it heavy..

“…fine”

I never thought I’d end up asking Zuko, the fire lords son out on a date, but here we are.

I sauntered into the tea shop, greeting locals as I made my way to where Zuko was pouring.

Carefully filling the cup, he didn’t notice as I leaned against the counter he was behind. I rested my chin in my hands, looking him up and down.

It has been quite a while since I saw him last, longer hair suited him.

When he finally noticed me, he took a double take, stumbling while trying to hold the cup steady.

“…Y/N..?” He asked almost timidly, as if he didn’t want to believe I was standing infront of him.

“Hey, you remember my name, aren’t you sweet?”

He went quiet, still staring at me as if he was seeing a ghost. He pushed past me, going to deliver tea to a table. What a good little worker.

He returned to where I was standing, starting to wash dishes, ignoring my presence.

“What’s your name?”

“..what?”

“Your name, you’re not still going by Zuko here are you?”

He flinched as I used his real name, his eyes flicking between mine and his dishes.

“..Lee. Why are you here?”

“Can’t I visit my favorite prince?”

He stiffened at the praise. “…are you planning on fighting me?”

“No, the opposite actually”

He furrowed his eyebrows in a surprisingly cute fashion.

“Going from Avatar hunter to waiter must be a real boring change of pace for you, huh?”

He didn’t answer, still washing dishes.

“How about you let me make it more interesting for you?”

“..what?”

“I’m asking you out Lee”

He didn’t say anything to that. He simply blinked comedically, his eyes wide.

I gave him time, I wasn’t going to rush him. Iroh did not have the same curtsy.

“Ah welcome to our Shop miss, what tea do you fancy?”

“..I’m not the biggest fan of tea, I’m here because I fancy something else”

Zukos face turned an impossible shade of red, I thought steam may come out of ears if I kept this up.

“Oh? And what are you referring to?” Iroh couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“Your nephew of course”

“Oh! Well a night out couldn’t hurt, right Lee?”

He whipped his head back and forth between his uncle and I in disbelief.

“Uncle, you know who this is don’t you?!”

Iroh studied me up and down.

“A humble mercenary looking for a date?”

“You’re exactly right” I smiled knowingly at Iroh, despite him technically being my enemy this exchange was a little fun.

“I don’t see why not Lee! Aren’t they cute?” Iroh gestured to me as if this was completely normal.

“Yeah Lee, aren’t I cute?” *i lean over the counter, invading his personal space.

Poor thing was absolutely floored as he whipped his head between me and Iroh trying to figure out if he was the weird one for being suspicious.

“If this is some sort of ploy to-“ he glares me, but it’s hard to take him seriously with such a red face.

“-I’ll pay for dinner, alright? All you have to do is have fun and look pretty. How about I come back at 7?” I didn’t know I had this much game until now. Why wasn’t I using this power for good before?

“The Shop will be closed by then, no reason to decline” Iroh looks up at his flustered nephew. How long would it take for the poor boy to crack?

“..fine..if you’re not here by exactly seven, I’m not going”

What a brat.. this was going to be an interesting date.

“I’ll be on time, don’t worry your pretty little head. I have business to attend to, I’ll be seeing you Lee” I wink at him, amused at how..affection starved he seemed.

He spun back around, his back facing me, but I could see the blush on his face starting to reach his neck..

Iroh was going to owe me much more than a bag of coins for this.

[jxckchxmpi0n]

Jack champion x fem reader and he plays spiderman and reader is mj?

I'm going to make this into some headcanons

hope you enjoy <3

Being Ethan's mj headcanons

did not proofread |m.list

update : I just now realized that after posting this what you were asking I will 10000% rewrite this as its supposed to be!! I'm so sorry I hope this is okay for the time being! idk why it took so long for my brain to realize what you were actually asking for :(((((

Happy New Year babes!!!! I hope you all had a great new year's and were safe! I'm so excited for this new year and to grow my account. I am going back to school next week, so the requests are going to come out slowly, but I am writing them. I will try to post once or twice a week but I no promises <;3 I love you all so much and thank you so much for your support it really means so much to me.

You didn't know who Ethan was before your junior year in high school. both of you got paired up for a science project and ended up hitting it off and became close friends.

Chad would try to get Ethan to ask you out, he would be sad for weeks after you both finished the project, unable to see each other after classes had changed.

After a fight with some jock, you saw him hanging outside trying to clean up the cuts on his face, you would end up helping him and get to talking.

"Listen Ethan I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out sometime." he would just stare at you in disbelieve, he'd be smiling so much the cut on his cheekbone started to bleed again.

From there on it was official you were in a relationship with him, he would always meet you up after school take the long way home just so he could be with you longer.

After a few months there was a change in how he was acting, you also noticed something different about him but couldn't put your hand on it.

This weekend it was longer due to some holiday and you, and Ethan had planned to spend the entire weekend together watching Star Wars and building Legos, but Ethan's mind had been so wrapped up in his new actives that he forgot.

Crawling through his window he heard his aunt talking, but he also heard another voice, and it was yours. His heart beating faster, just hearing your voice has that effect on him.

But thinking about your voice distracted him from realizing you were walking to his room, once he saw the door handle move panic set in.

Quickly he fell from the ceiling and grabbed a blanket but tripped himself in the process. "Ethan? when did you get home?" and before you both knew it you were holding the blanket while he shot up holding a hand to your month to stop you from yelling.

"Please, don't say anything! My aunt doesn't know yet you can't tell anyone!" his voice was harsh yet soft and scared. He was scared with how you were going to act.

"You're fucking spiderman! Holy shit! Holy Shit" you dropped the blanket and jumped into his arms. he stood there for a second confused, he eventually gave in wrapping his arms around you. feeling the warmth of your body against his. He felt safe with you.

"You have to tell me everything! and oh my god I have so many questions! but also you idiot!" you slapped him aside the head laughing but also giggling at the fact that your boyfriend is spiderman.

From there on you would help him fix his suit if he ever needed it or cover for him if a lie came back to haunt him.

Some nights he'd come to your window sharing all the details about some sandwich robbery he stopped.

There would be times where it's hard to be with Ethan, you sometimes thought he loved being spiderman than being with you. His actions spoke more than words could at times.

Bailing on date nights, sometimes right in the middle of your date. You love him and love seeing how much joy he gets out of helping others, but it also takes a toll on your relationship.

After an argument about how you felt he bailed out on you not wanting to say something he'd regret.

Things just got harder from there, you both agreed that you'd be better off apart, but you both lied to yourself.

Ethan thought it was better only to keep you safe from the criminals, and you thought it was all stupid. Knowing spiderman is who he is but he's also Ethan Landry the love of your life.

Soon things would take a turn for the worst as one of his enemies found out your importance to spiderman. Kidnapping you and using you as a pawn to trap him.

Ethan's heart would break seeing you in so much pain, even after trying to leave you to keep you save it did nothing. there you sat in front of him after he fought the villain. He didn't know what to do.

Both of you scrapped and bloodily up all you want to do is be in his arms. And just like before he stood shocked for a moment feeling your body against his.

It felt so right, wrapping his arms around your body he held you tight, tighter than he ever has. "I'm so sorry y/n please I'm so sorry i love you" he tucked his head into your neck, the faint smell of your perfume filled his nose.

"Don't ever leave me ever again! I'm being serious" you hugged him as tight as he did to you. "And I love you too."

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

The theory

Warnings: smut, age gap (Herbert is like inm his 40's reader is in her 20's), teacher and TA/student type relationship, reader has dirty thoughts

An: more Herbert stuff ig.... enjoy!

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You always thought he was hot. In like your dad's nerdy friend kida way......but that didn’t stop you from getting yourself off thinking about what his cock looked like. You would imagine it so many times. Imagining how big it would be. How good it would feel inside of you. It wasn’t until last week when you had finally seen it that your dreams became reality.

It all happened one night after class. You were working on homework in Dr. West’s office while he finished grading papers. After finishing up his work he came over and sat next to you on his desk chair. “I need to ask you something,” he said

“Yeah? What is it?” you asked as you looked up at him. He was wearing a white dress shirt, black tie, and slacks. His brown eyes seemed to pierce through you as he addressed you .

“Would you like to help me out with some research?” he asked.

“What kind of research?” you asked curiously.

“Well, I need someone to test my latest theory.”

“Okay? What does that mean exactly?” you asked.

“Basically I need someone to help me see if my theory is correct.” he explained.

“So what does this testing involve?” you asked nervously.

He leaned forward and put his hand on your knee, “Well, there will be some physical contact involved.” he said as he rubbed your thigh.

You swallowed hard and nodded, “Okay.” you replied.

He smiled and stood up, “Great! Would you like to start now?” he asked as he took his jacket off.

You bit your lip and nodded as he turned around and locked the door behind him. He walked back over to you and sat down on his desk chair again. “So what exactly is this theory Dr. West?” you asked batting your eyes at the scientist.

He grinned and shrugged, “Oh well, we’ll get to that later. Right now I want to make sure you are comfortable.” he said as he undid his belt buckle.

“Comfortable?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

He laughed and stood up again, “Yes. I want to make sure that you are okay with everything before we proceed.” he said as his hand went up your skirt, and he ran his thumb up and down your inner thigh getting higher and higher

“Oh my god,” you gasped as he reached the edge of your panties.

"Do you still want to participate in this theory?" You practically moaned out a yes

He chuckled and pulled them aside, exposing your pussy to him. He bent down and licked his tongue along your slit causing you to shiver. “Mmmm, delicious,” he whispered against your flesh as he sucked on your clit making you moan softly. He continued to lick and suck on your clit until you were dripping wet and begging for more.

“Please,” you panted, “Fuck me.”

Dr. West smirked and stood up, “Not yet. First, I want to make sure that you can handle what I have planned for you.” he said as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down revealing his hard cock.

“Holy shit,” you gasped as you stared at it in awe. It was longer than any cock you had ever seen before.

“Do you like what you see darling?” he asked smirking.

“oh, yeah,” you moan

He chuckled and shook his head. as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. He then pushed his cock inside of you causing both of you to moan loudly.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “This feels so good.”

“Oh my god, yes,” you whimpered as he began thrusting into you faster and harder.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, “You’re so tight darling.”

“Please don’t stop,” you begged.

“I won’t,” he promised.

He kept thrusting into you harder and deeper until you couldn’t take anymore and came all over his cock. He felt your walls tighten around him causing him to cum too.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as he filled you up completely.

You collapsed onto the floor panting heavily trying to catch your breath.

“Are you okay darling?” he asked concernedly.

You nodded and tried to speak but all that came out was a soft moan.

“Good. My Theory was proven correct”

"And what's the theory?"

"That you had sexual feelings towards me" he gave you a smirk.

[thatone-brightstar]

ohhhhh bestie The Bear & The Fox got me GOOD, more please!!!

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 2: Like a fox caught in the headlights

Words: 5.7k

Summary: After four weeks at The Beef, you've learnt some valuable lessons. Finding Carmy adorable is the most dangerous one.

a/n: Because I am nothing if not a people pleaser, here's the second chapter for that one person that asked lol Enjoooy xx

P.S. Reader is Latina in this, so there will be some spanish lessons.

After a full four weeks at The Beef, you had realized a couple of valuable lessons. Subs and sandwiches were not the same, and Richie had a very strong opinion about the “uncultured jackasses” that confused them, Tina was nicer than everyone gave her credit for (though it probably helped that both your mother and her had gone to the same high school together) and lastly; Carmy being a decent person would be more counter effective than you anticipated. Especially when you learned that your building was about four blocks away from his and that he drove Richie’s car, because the other had his license suspended for parking on a handicap spot while buying cigs.

It had been completely accidental and not at all your intention, but on your sixth day after closing and when your idiot brother had forgotten to pick you up, you naively thought it would be fine to walk thirty three minutes to get home. The L was not an option as the last time you had taken it, someone stole your access card and it would take at least a month to get a new one. So you and your uncomfortable platform sneakers were stuck for at least another half hour until you could make it home. Or so you thought.

Ten minutes after leaving The Beef, with your jacket zipped all the way up to avoid the harsh late March wind, you had fallen into a comfortable pace. You’d normally wear your headphones to tune out the city sounds, but it was almost 11pm and the fear of getting jumped was enough to keep you alerted of your surroundings. The last thing you needed right now was a shiv to the throat. However, for a Sunday night, the streets were livelier than you had expected. People congregated outside bars and the family owned pizzerias that remained open past midnight to feed the night owls, stoners and drunks. You admired the checkered table cloths they used and added the image to the folder in your mind under ‘shit to make the beef less sad’ as you made your way down the blocks.

As you reached the crosswalk and waited for your turn, a dusty black car slowed its pace then stopped fully beside you. You brazed yourself for the usual catcalls or hollering while you kept your head forward, though the sweaty hand around your strap gave another impression.

“Hey!” You heard from the car once the window was down and you did your best to hold your tongue and not tell the asshole to just fuck right off, but when you heard him call your name, this time you turned surprised.

Carmy sat staring up at you through the cracked window, right hand already pushing the passenger door open and waiting for you to get in. There was a slight frown on his brow as you stood motionless looking at him because he was the last person you expected to see and also holy fuck, did that blue jacket bring out the already magnificent color in his eyes. The sound of a horn blaring from behind you brought you back from the ridiculous turn your thoughts were taking and you cleared your throat climbing into the warm vehicle. He sat staring at your profile as you took your bag off and placed it between your feet on the car floor, then pushed your hair behind both ears to clear your face and smile towards him.

A small ‘Hey’ was thrown in his direction and the warmth in your skin subsided once his gaze was no longer resting on you.

“You weren’t planning on walking, were you?” He asked, concerned.

“Would it be so bad if I say yes?” You ask back a bit ashamed. “It’s not that far.” you try to justify, playing with your fingers.

He asked you where you lived and when you told him the location, the car stopped in its tracks almost comically, although it would have been if he hadn’t stared at you with such a bewildered expression.

“That’s like an hour by foot!” He scolded, putting the car back in motion and merging successfully into the main road.

“No, it's like.. thirty minutes at most!” You fought back. “Besides, it’s not like I do it daily, my fucking brother just forgot to pick me up tonight.”

“Your brother the carrot?” He asked, now smiling softly.

A breathy almost giggle left your mouth as you turned to him. “Yeah, the carrot.”

That’s when he told you that it was fine if you ever needed a ride back because he lived in the same area anyway. ‘You can ask for help, you know’ He said, ‘It’s better than putting yourself in danger’. And you could have just left it at that, your boss being a decent human being. But the warmth of the car, the lowness of his voice and the sweet humming of a folk song playing in the radio, had your head swimming with scenarios that grew too quickly for you to stop them, even though you knew you had to.

He dropped you at the door of your building with a ‘Goodnight.’ and ‘Sleep well’, and as you climbed every step towards the fifth floor, you were reminded of the unspoken rule you had with yourself: No in-work relationships. No dating coworkers. No messing around.

No matter how funny, how nice, how hot or how lost you could get in the pool in their eyes.

That’s how your routine came to be. At least until Richie got his license back, which you secretly hoped was not anytime soon. You’d finish closing up front, take your bag from the office and wait for Carmy out back until he was done scrubbing clean every surface of the stainless steel kitchen. Sometimes you’d wait inside too, disguising it behind wanting to  keep him company but in actuality you were just afraid someone would creep on you from the dark while alone outside. The car ride would consist of meaningless chatter on music, movies and on who won the prize to “Shitty customer of the day”, and on your way up home you’d repeat the same mantra for each step. As many times as it took for your beating heart to slow and for your skin to cool down before reaching your door.

***********

Carmy hated to admit it, even to himself, but it was evident from afar how accustomed he had become to your presence, enough that it affected him on your day off. It was ridiculous really, how off his game he was. Calling out wrong orders, oversalting the broth and even burning his hand with a metal handle he had forgotten over the fire. Tina snickered when she heard a ‘Fuck!’ behind her, followed by the clinging of metal falling to the ground.

“You good, Jeff?” She asked teasingly, looking over her shoulder at the chef running his hand under the faucet. “She’ll be back tomorrow, you know?”

He didn’t answer, he knew better than to do so because everything in that place could be used against him. She was right though, you’d be back tomorrow, you always were. On your first day off after being hired, he had spent the whole day doubting if you would be back the next, thinking about having to put the help wanted sign up again made his already unstable stomach worse. Then you showed up unexpectedly during the small break with a box of pastries you had made as a thank you for the team, each decorated with little edible flowers and colorful glossy coats. He had secretly snapped a picture of his, before biting into the heated crust, his stomach had welcomed the delicious warmth of food for the first time all day and the feeling followed him around during the rest of his shift.

On your third day off, you had brought your mother for dinner on a slow night. Your cheeks had gone up in flames when she let him know just how much you talked about the mouthwatering food served at The Beef and the wonderful people working there, before yelling something in spanish to Tina and leaving you both alone in comfortable silence.

“So you think our food’s delicious?” He asked with a teasing smile and bumping his shoulder against yours.  You stood side by side while watching the two older women catch up in the kitchen like a sort of family reunion. Carmy normally didn’t let strangers into his kitchen, he was protective like that, but strangely for you, he was glad to make an exception.

“Of course I do!” you said with an embarrassed laugh. “You’re a great cook, chef,” You said sincerely and his eyes shone brighter than ever under the fluorescent lights. “You’re just too busy noticing your own faults to see it.”

Your mother had called for you and a part of him was glad she did, because he did not know how he would have resisted leaning down into your soft lips after such a beautiful confession. They didn’t charge for dinner, and no matter who you tried to give the bill to, no one would take it. ‘Orders from the boss’ they’d say grinning, and when you turned to the office, you saw a messy head of golden hair hide behind the door frame.

Now on your fifth day off, he wondered if you’d show up. He allowed himself a bit of delusion as he ran his injured hand under the tap, and imagined you arriving in one of those flared high waisted jeans you liked to wear. He stared at his hand and thought of what it would feel like to caress your cheek with it, your soft skin against his calloused one, doe eyes staring lovingly up at his as he held you closely between his arms… Fuck, okay,no this is weird, he thought. He should not be thinking of you like this and if they had anything similar to an HR department, this would definitely be a violation of some sort. And that’s not even talking about the wild scenarios his mind would make up late at night when he couldn’t get any sleep.

Even though it was just in his mind and no one else could see inside his little fucked up brain, it was still wrong. Especially when he knew you couldn’t feel the same. You were just being nice, he’d remind himself. That’s who you were. And he was being a pervert and a terrible boss by assuming otherwise. He had to get his shit right and his priorities straight, saving the fucking Beef from ruin was the first. He had to leave his stupid lovesick scenarios for when he could finally give his tired body a rest.

He pulled himself out from the rubble of his thoughts, turned the water off and dried his hands on the white rag hanging from his surprisingly clean apron. Then he made his way back to the station and continued on dinner prep with the usual automated performance he had trained so hard to cultivate. This he knew, this was familiar and precise and gave no space for errors or misinterpretations. This was his. Him. No doubt, insecurity or fear of reciprocation. A vegetable was still a vegetable no matter how he felt towards it, and he still had to be your superior no matter how he felt towards you.

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

“I don’t know which one to get!” You hummed through the phone resting between your shoulder and cheek as your hands were busy comparing the very similar fabrics in front of you.

You hear Sydney groan exasperated through the line and you can clearly picture her rolling her eyes at you.

“Just pick whichever! It’s not like anyone will notice the difference anyway.” She answered, and you can hear a light buzz of noise from her side. 

“I’ll notice.” You mumbled back.

In your defense and to your well color-trained eye, they were very different. While the design was the same, checkered style pattern with white, they both had negative spaces of different shades of blue, one slightly darker than the other. You were leaning towards the softer baby blue, but it wasn’t the right shade. It was the third craft store you visited and none seemed to carry the specific type of blue you were in search for. It was a stretch because you were sure that shade’s only purpose was to exist between tired eyelids and golden lashes, but you were too stubborn and you had to at least try to find something similar. 

“I’m sure people will just be happy to not eat directly on the plastic tables. Bring the one you like best.” Syd said after a moment of silence.

“Ugh, I guess.” You finished, finally deciding on the baby blue material.

You walked around the art supply section and picked out the things you were there for originally, a few tubes of oil paints, paint sealant, a detailing brush and a new spatula were what you checked from your list. It wasn’t your intention to buy more than that, but the sight of the shiny fabric at the end of the aisle had you dialing Syd’s number and asking if she thought Carmy would mind if you bought things for the restaurant with your own  money. You were planning to anyway, but the reassurance was nice. ‘Anything that comes from you is okay with him’ she had said and a fuzzy feeling bloomed in your chest.

“We’re still on for drinks later, right?” She asked while you scanned everything through the self checkout.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna drop all this shit off today, go home and change and meet you outside after closing.” You mentally groaned at all the back and forth you’d have to do but it was better than carrying everything home then back to The Beef the next day. 

Also, you had secretly taken a liking to dropping by unexpectedly to “say hi”. You were never the kind of person to go to your place of work on your off day, you never understood those people because, why be there six days of the week then go back on your off when you could literally go anywhere else? But The Beef had felt more like a home than a job ever had for you. It was warm and inviting, and you understood why there were so many regulars who still bought their daily sandwich after so many years. It felt nice to work for a place that was more for the people than the prestige. It was a breath of fresh air in a world surrounded by how ridiculous you could make a dish and still have it be considered food.

“You sure it’s not just cause you wanna see a certain broody someone?” Syd asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts.

You stayed silent on the line and that was enough of a confirmation for Sydney to burst into laughter from the other side.

You spat a ‘Shut up.’ and hung up on her mid laugh, cheeks ablaze.

After leaving the store, you walked the fifteen minutes to The Beef with your headphones on and carrying your bag of supplies in blissful peace. You liked days like these, the sun shining softly through the clouds, the air fresh and crisp and your heart light in your chest. The beat of the music coordinated with your steps on the sidewalk as you made your way through the industrial looking streets, letting your mind roam to its recent favorite topic of wild messy hair and freckle dusted skin. Syd’s words were still fresh in your mind, but also was the rule you had been repeating to yourself more than usual. 

Each time he did something nice, you had to convince yourself that that’s just the way he was and to stop reading into something that wasn’t there. Every time you caught him looking was justified by him just spacing out and you being in the general direction of his gaze. The free dinner was him being kind, the rides home were him being decent and the sweet smiles as you crossed the kitchen towards the steward section were… Your doom, honestly. 

Every time you made your way across with empty plates, even if it was only for a brief second, he snuck a peek from his bowed position over the expo, then smiled loosely back down. The first time you had caught his stare, you had carelessly dropped the dishes on Angel and into the muddy water then rushed out the back door because the space around you had become insufferably hot. The image had replayed like a broken record all day, rewinding in the exact moment his ocean eyes bore into yours like waves crashing against a rocky coast. It was criminal. And you would take to your grave how the memory had fueled the fire in your lower belly on the nights when you couldn’t get any sleep. Just remembering brought back the familiar ache between your thighs and you quickened your steps to relieve the sensation. Fucking hell, had it really been that long? It probably had been because you couldn’t remember the last time you got laid, or even been kissed for that matter. No wonder  you were so wound up over a simple look. 

‘That's it’, you thought. ‘I’m just hormonal and it’s causing my stupid brain to confuse horniness with like. Nothing more’  So on the last block to The Beef you made up your mind: you were going to find a stranger to sleep with that night, then this whole Carmy situation would die down and you would see it with clear eyes for what it really was, Carmy just existing and you being a pervert for misinterpreting anything he did.

You took a deep breath as you pushed the glass door to find an empty restaurant and you assumed everyone was taking a well needed break in the back before the dinner rush. You pulled your headphones off and made your way into the familiar hallway that led from the front, past the walk in and into the office. Your plan was to drop the bag off and head right out, you'd see everyone after closing anyway, but just as you left everything by the foot of the crowded desk and turned to leave, a tall shadow standing by the door made you jump back startled.

“Jesus fuck, Carmy!” You yelled at him with a hand against your thumping chest. He stared at you with a contained smile and it was hard not to smile back. “Was that payback?!” You asked, still trying to control your breathing.

“For what?” He asked innocently and entered the small office space. In the reduced area, his broad shoulders looked bigger and the thumping in your ears was no longer from the fright. “What's that?” He asked, pointing to the bag you had discarded on the ground.

“Oh, um…” God, why are you so nervous? “It's just some stuff I got for the front. Tablecloths and napkins and… stuff.” You answered by playing with your hands. You didn’t want him to be upset even though Syd had assured you it would be fine.

He crouched down towards the bag and rummaged around inspecting the insides.

“I was planning on putting it on the tables in the dining area… I hope that’s okay?” You added after what felt like minutes of silence.

“No, that- that’s really nice of you. Thank you, chef.” He said, looking up at you.” You bought this with your own cash?”

“Yeah.. but it’s no problem, truly. I just really fuckin’ hate those Starbucks napkins.” You joked and he sniggered while straightening up.

He scanned you with amused brows and for the first time all day you felt self conscious of your choice in clothing, or lack of choice. 

You had been home all day working on a panting in the makeshift studio you had created in your living room. Your grandfather had helped you set up an easel and some drawers near the windows with the most natural lighting as a fun hobby at sixteen, and almost ten years later, the space had become a sort of sanctuary during stressing times or just when you needed to clear your head. Half the house was now covered with your creations, mostly paintings, but also a few sculptures from that time you tried to experiment with clay and almost blew up your mother’s oven. 

That morning, you had been working on a piece centered around a stormy sea and a boat adrift, headphones on and too far gone into your own head, when you realized you had squeezed out the last drop of teal paint from the little tube. You could have just mixed and matched until the shade was correct, but your back protested when you finally unhooked your left leg from under you and that was a loud enough sign that you needed to move from the uncomfortable wooden stool you had spent hours on. So without changing from the paint covered overalls, cliche sure but cute, you thought, you pulled your sneakers on then kissed your grandpa goodbye and closed the door behind you.

Now as you stood in front of Carmy, a baggy mess of dried colors, trying to rack your brain for an explanation, you noticed just how bad of an idea it had been. You felt like a kindergartener’s discarded art project, and fuck’s sake, the two space buns at the bottom of your neck were certainly not helping. You scratched the back of your head nervously, trying to avoid his teasing gaze, then rested your hand flat on the desk to turn fully towards him.

“I was painting, okay?” You mumbled and for a second you felt like a kid getting caught doing something bad. It also didn’t help that he was older than you and a dark part of your screwed up brain searched for his approval.

“I would hope so.” He answered between a breathy laugh.

It was an involuntary move from his part, down right impertinent. Something he would never do in a million years, especially to a woman while they stood alone in a closed space with less than a foot between their chests. But his hand was already half way up when he realized what his body was doing, his gaze too caught on the light strip of cyan paint above your brow to realize how your breath had gotten stuck in your throat and your pupils had swallowed your irises whole. His cold fingers feathered away the slight bangs that framed your face and as his skin made contact with yours for the very first time since you met, an electrified chill ran from the base of your neck, down through every nerve ending exposed to the air and causing bumps to rise along your skin. It was completely innocent, but the contrast in temperature, combined with the close proximity and the emotions you had tried to sweep under the rug, had your heart in a whirlpool dropping down to the depths of your stomach. The bubble of air in your throat didn’t know whether to go up or down, so you simply stayed still as he gently rubbed his forefinger against your temple. Your mouth felt dry and your eyebrows were screwed together in a mixture of angst and anticipation. You felt like a fox caught in the headlights, treading carefully around the hunter. 

Your eyes drooped mindlessly to his parted lips and the voice in the back of your head whispered how easy it would be to stand on your toes and close the small distance separating you. The hand resting on the desk had curled around the edge and you knew your knuckles had turned white from the force of your grip. It felt like time had stopped altogether, only your echoing heartbeat was the telltale of the seconds passed. You dragged your eyes slowly back up his features until they stuck to the warm icy blue and you could feel his thumb unconsciously rubbing slow circles.

‘It would be so easy.’ you both thought. 

His face was a whisper away, yet it felt like a dessert separated you from the only body of water you wanted to desperately bathe in. Just one swim wouldn’t hurt, right? No one would know it happened. A one and done situation. ‘Just to get you out my system.’ you thought. Or rather whispered.

“What?” Carmy mumbled confused.

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pulled back, blinking rapidly to control the panic beginning to bubble in your veins. Fuck! You tried to settle your eyes anywhere except on him while you struggled to decipher what the actual hell you were going to let happen. From your peripheral vision, you could tell he was also disoriented by the way he pulled his hand down his face, stopping to cup his mouth with strength as if not trusting what could come out of it.

“I-I” Your voice sounded foreign, barely above a whisper. “I’m gonna go…um-” You swallowed the bubble of air and wrapped your arms around yourself with your eyes trained on the ground, trying to pass by Carmy without touching, as if the simple contact could sting your already sensitive skin.

He reached his hand towards you and called your name. “No- shit, wait I-”

“Hi, mija!” You heard and both of you instantly turned to where Tina stood by the door to the walk in.

She made her way to you and you tried your best to swallow the batch of tick saliva that comes before the bile and smiled. You pulled her into a hug and kissed her left cheek out of tradition.

“Hey, just came to drop off some things.” You spoke as nonchalantly as one can when you’re on the verge of a breakdown.

“Good, then you can save me the trip and give your mom this.” She said while handing you a small roll of five dollar bills. “It’s for the tanda. Tell her my number’s up next week, eh?” She caressed your cheek softly then turned to Carmy with a doubtful look. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I’ll give it to her.” You interrupted and threw the money without care inside your tote bag, turned to Carmy one last time, then marched through the hallway and out the glass door.

You didn’t stop until you knew you were at a distance safe enough to crash. You leaned against the bricks of a nearby flower shop and closed your eyes because, even though you had never fainted before, this felt very much how people describe it could feel. Your whole head was on the edge of explosion along with your ribcage and throat. Your mouth was dry and wet at the same time, and the simple feeling of saliva on your tongue was enough to have you gagging with your forehead against the wall.

“Okay, get your shit together.” You whispered to yourself between heavy sniffles. 

Breathe. Hold. Release. Again. Breathe. Hold. Release. Again. With as much strength as you could manage, you pulled on the long sleeves of your shirt and wiped the trail of salty water beginning to slide past your cheeks. Breathe. The last thing you needed was to have a panic attack in the middle of the street, so even as your vision blurred at the edges and your chest heaved from the lack of air, you did your best to hail a cab. With the first strike of luck in the past ten minutes, a yellow car pulled by your side and you wasted no time in getting in. With little control left, you told him your address and as he drove in the direction of your house, the grimy restaurant street sign grew smaller in the rear view mirror and the single thread that kept your fumbling heart together finally tore. 

You arrived home in a numbed state, your body felt drained after going through so many emotions in a short period of time and you were glad everyone was out because how could you explain the absolute shitshow you had stupidly put yourself through the last hour? You dragged your feet across the wooden floor of the hallway that led into the living room, dropped your bag over the island in the kitchen and headed straight into your bedroom. As soon as the soft fabric of the covers wrapped around you like a protective cocoon, the dam in your chest broke open and a nasty sob left your lips.

God, how could you ruin this so catastrophically?! How were you going to show your face at work after this? You could just imagine Carmy telling everyone how you had come onto him in his office and a new wave of tears rushed to your eyes. The first job you actually liked in years and you ruin it by almost kissing your fucking boss! ‘What the hell is wrong with me?!’ 

‘In our defense, he came onto us first’, the voice in your head tried to rationalize. 

The intimate clip played back in your mind’s eye from a third’s perspective, like a movie scene you’ve watched a thousand times in the past half hour. ‘It can’t be completely my fault, right?’ You ask yourself, analyzing his expression through your memories. It had to mean something, you don’t just look at anyone like that.

“Fuck!” You yelled exasperated and rubbed the palm of your hands against your tired eyes.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and opened up Syd’s contact on the message app, ready to write an excuse as to why you needed to cancel. But as your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a part of your brain wondered if you really wanted to. It would make no use to brood in your own self pity for the rest of the day, and maybe the therapeutic process of getting ready to go out would help clear your head and let you see the situation in a better light. Also, you still had a plan to see through and after the day’s events, your skin had been left itching for contact, no matter where it came from.

So instead of canceling, you texted Sydney that you’d meet them at the bar instead, then spent the next ten minutes looking for a playlist that would inspire you for as long as your ritual would last.

**********

The hellscape of a day was finally over and Carmy had never been more grateful. After the last order had been served, he retreated into the office without a word to anyone and had been sitting staring at the same spot since. Thankfully no one knew what had him in such a distasteful mood and he was sure as hell that it was going to stay that way. They didn’t need to know how he had scared you away with his impulsive actions or that he was to blame if you stopped showing up without explanation. The team had barely started to respect him and knowing that he had borderline harassed everyone’s favorite waitress would have him catching a punch or two.

‘Just to get you out my system.’ 

Your voice repeated like an echo bouncing off the walls in his skull as he tried to make sense of the words, but no matter how many times he flipped them around and rearranged them, he still didn't know what they meant. Was he in your system? Was he really so dense, that he hadn’t noticed you felt something for him, or was he reading too much into an inexistent situation?

His fingers tingled at the memory of your soft warm skin against them, the way your eyebrows had knit together while you stared at him with the most wide eyes he had ever seen and how you had unconsciously parted your lips when your eyes flickered towards his. Fuck, he really was an idiot. You were probably the first woman he had looked at with such adoration and he had to go and screw it up with his lack of control and stupidness.

He layed back in his chair and ran his cold hands through his hair, eyes trained on the dimly lit ceiling above him. An exasperated breath left his chest and he closed his eyes, scanning his brain for a solution to what should be the least of his worries in an office surrounded by expired bills and accounts that made zero sense. ‘What’s one more thing to worry about, right?’ He breathed out a laugh.

He heard a knock from the slightly opened door and turned to see Marcus staring down at him.

“Yo, chef?”

“Yo” He answered back.

“We’re all done with housekeeping’. Some of us are gonna go grab drinks and we wanna know if you wanna hang.” He stayed silent for a second. “You kinda look like you had a shitty day.” He sniggered.

He could always trust Marcus to tell the truth.

Carmy suppressed a laugh and leaned into his desk, taking a pen in his hand and playing with it. “Nah, thanks chef. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff here. You have fun though.”

Marcus nodded slowly, looking around the desk until his eyes landed on the bag of fabric laying on the ground. “Bet.” He said then smiled slowly. “She’s gonna be there. Jus’ so y’know.” And with a pat on the doorframe, he signaled his exit.

He leaned against his chair again and stared at the space Marcus had stood in, contemplating his options. If he went, there was a high possibility you didn’t wanna see him. But this could also be his only chance to get things cleared out and maybe convince you to not quit because of his actions. Granted, a bar was not the place to talk and definitely not his scene, but if that’s what he had to do to convince you to stay then so be it. He took a couple calming breaths to ease his heart at the idea of possibly even telling you how he felt, if you were gonna leave, might as well take the info with you, right? It’s not rejection if you were already gonna split.

“Fuck it.” He threw the pen at the mess of papers and the old chair creaked as he stood forcefully, then pulled his jacket from the back along with his keys from their hook by the entrance and followed the rowdy chanting of his youngest employees walking in a line out the busted back door and into the night.

Chapter 3.