but then she broke the window from the INSIDE

Cupcake Sandwiches - -  Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones

Bughead fic - post episode 1x07

In which Betty and Jughead spend some time together, now that they are neighbors. Includes fluff, a bit of smut, you guessed it, cupcakes…happiness, and very heavy petting. These two are very passionate about each other in this story. Non-Ace Juggie. If you don’t like that, please don’t read. Cheers, lovers! <3

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potatoes-tomatoes  asked:

Could you please do prompt #14 with botw zelink? I loved their chemistry in the game and I know you can do them justice ❤👍

This nails them to a ‘T’ in my opinion. Whether it’s botw or another game, I feel this hits they’re characters well enough for me to not have to strain so much to stay in character.

Thank you, I’m going to enjoy this :3


Zelda walked pristinely with her head down in long, slow strides down her castle halls.

Link, being ever faithful, remained close behind her.

This wasn’t new to them. After her father had ordered her to fixate the rest of her time on her prayers, she was soon found moping around the castle, having come back from previous praying.

She remained silent, almost as silent as the dusk, as the sun began to set.

Link kept up her pace, but looked down.

Something inside him told him something was wrong,… and he should say something.

Often remaining silent about his feelings upon everything, he wondered how long she would remain under silence…

The silence wasn’t new to him, but he knew it was silently paining her inside.

She was usually cheerful about the things she liked.


He stopped walking a moment, and Zelda broke her stride, turning behind her.


He remained looking to the side, outside the window, spotting something that completely took over his interests.

She paused a moment, before turning around, her dress carrying the motion. “What’s wrong, Link..? What do you see?” she turned to the window, and then back to Link, walking towards him.

“Has something caught your eye?”

He continued to stare…

Suddenly, he rushed forward, startling Zelda. “Ah! Link!” she faltered back, before stumbling to rebalance herself and ran towards the window.

He placed a foot up on the ledge, and jumped, looking determined as he flew downward with his arms out wide.

“Liiink!” she rammed herself against the edge of the windowsill, and looked around, worried.

When she saw him rushing to the garden, her eyes widened in shock, not sure what he was doing, and quickly darted to the stairs, lifting her dress up and hurrying to find out-

“What on earth had possessed you to-!?” she looked pretty angry, but mostly surprised and panicked with worry, before stopping in mid-sentence and stride, lifting a hand up.


Link had picked a flower for her.

He held it with a neutral expression on his face, then nodded his head and walked towards her.

Bending to one knee, he ducked his head and held it out for her to accept.

Her eyes delicately stared down in wonder at the flower, before smiling kindly and tilting her head, understanding his true intent.

“Link…” she drew forth her hand, and lightly took the flower from his hand, barely skimming her fingers against his own.

He lightly blushed from the sensation of it, but with his head down, no one could tell.

He rose it up, as if half expecting her to acknowledge it, but knew he was probably just thinking oddly and shook his head, quickly getting up from kneeling.

He readjusted himself as she smiled even more warmly towards the flower, and held it up to her nose.

“…Link, have you been paying attention to my herbal lessons?” She tilted her head, a slightly cheeky look coming on her face.

He honestly didn’t know what she was talking about, and put a hand up behind his head, scratching it.

“Hmm… I guess not.” she turned around, facing her back to him.

“..This flower… is called Love Eternal.”

“Wa-ah!” he seemed to trip on her words, before regaining himself.

Had he just accidentally confessed!?

She giggled lightly, a breathy one, before lightly touching the petals of the flower.

“It’s said that when women are too shy to say it, since the tradition has always stood that men do those honors first… that they plant these in their gardens and flowerbeds… a silent invitation for him to propose.”

She lightly turned her head back to Link, nodding some comfort to him, but still teasing him.

“I assumed you didn’t know. It’s alright. I thought it was very cute, and awfully funny of you. Thank you… Link. It did make me feel better.”

Her kindness… her gentle reassurance not to worry…

His shoulders fell as he lowered his arm from being raised, and looked down, nodding in his embarrassment.

“Please, don’t act so modest. I honestly felt flattered.” Zelda closed her eyes and smiled, nodding another reassurance for him not to worry.

“Now then.” she lowered her hands, keeping the flower tightly in one of them.

She regained her natural dignity, and looked seriously back to the castle. “Father has forbidden me to leave the castle walls if not for the sole purpose of my prayers… we should return before he suspects us of any treason against his words…”

Link looked up.

He realized how much she held back.. the true pain at saying those words.

Even his adventurous spirit felt trapped and coped up here… but it was more than just tolerable, because he was protecting the princess.

So long as he had the princess….

On her way to her quarters, Link stopped once again.

“…” Zelda turned her head once more, “Link,…”

He looked out the window.

“..You’re not planning to jump out of the window again are you?” Zelda smiled, turning around, “I swear, Link.” she giggled, “You almost gave me a heart attack last time.”

He looked back at her, and smiled kindly, before looking apologetic.

He then lowered his head.


He closed his eyes, deeply looking troubled and saddened.

“…What ever is the matter?”

Zelda walked back towards him, and waited in front of him.

When his eyes slowly opened, but didn’t look to her, she lightly raised a hand, but never fully touched him.

He looked up, following the gesture.

“…I know you’re worried about me.” Zelda looked understanding, and with every ounce of a gentle loving friend, she spoke again, “And I must ask you to keep enduring for me.”

“A-ah…” he voiced out, stepping to balance himself more.

She knew?

She looked down, turning her head away, and placing her hand holding the flower up against her chest.

“I understand you feel at a loss… wanting to help me, but not being able to disobey orders.”

He held his stare, but closed his mouth tightly.

“I’m sorry, Link… I truly do hope you know…” she looked back up at him, her pleasant face always sending a feeling through him… but he just wasn’t sure what to call it.

His eyes quickly darted to the flower, before blinking back up at her fast as instantly as he had glanced.

“I enjoyed the confession today.” She mischievously beamed.


She laughed, seeing his over-exaggerated expression.

She held another hand over her mouth, bending down and then slowly coming back up, enjoying his hilarious expression and reaction.

“Oh, Link! Haha, forgive me, haha! I couldn’t help but repeat myself again. Haha!”

She was smiling… she was genuinely laughing… at least that was enough.

Link continued to turn, embarrassed.

Later that night, as she slept silently in her bed, Link stood by her window.

He held his sword out in front, down to the floor, as his hands rested on it’s hilt.

In the shadows, he turned from his position of guarding to stare at her a moment… and the Love Eternal flower, glistening in the moonlight.

He slowly walked over to it.

Then bent down by Zelda’s side, looking over at her calm, peacefully sleeping face.

He leaned down, a quiet voice in her dreams…

“What if… I did..?”

She lightly stirred as wind passed by her ear.

the curtains of the open balcony window lightly draped over the moonlight, revealing the beautiful landscape of Hyrule outside.


The flower lightly dropped a petal from it’s watery glass.

“…Love you.”

Zelda felt something warm and slightly moist upon her cheek, but never spoke of the dreamed voice sense.

(Got a little AU at the end there. I should have just ended with, instead of ‘what if I did?’ to “Always” huh? May have kept it fully in character canon, lol)

Lose Control: an Alex fic

PROMPT: Can I request an Alex x Reader imagine? Maybe where Alex was the reader’s best friend and he becomes jealous whenever someone would flirt with the reader. That jealousy leads him to confess his feelings and fluff at the end, please.


You were standing by your locker after school waiting for your best friend since childhood Alex Standall. You had the biggest crush on him, but he only saw you as a friend. It was just like any other day when Zach Dempsey walked up to you leaning against the lockers in front of you.

“Zach, hey!” you said with a smile.

“Hey y/n” he said with his signature smirk.

“What’s up?” You asked, glancing down the hall for Alex.

“I just saw you here and wanted to talk to you,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at you, “You got some time?”

“Yeah, until Alex gets here,” you replied.

“So y/n, I wanted to ask you-” Zach started but was cut off by the arrival of Alex, his piercing blue gaze glaring holes into the back of Zach’s head.

“Let’s go, y/n” he said gruffly.

“Wait, Alex!” you exclaimed, “Zach was about to ask me something,”

“It’s okay, we can talk later,” he said, sulking away.

You turned to Alex, your face full of anger. Why was he acting like this? Alex was normally so kind and inviting, he’d never hurt a fly, let alone a human. So how could he be rude to Zach like that?

“That was so rude!” you said angrily.

“Let it go y/n” he growled, walking outside as you followed closely behind.

“I wanted to know what Zach wanted to ask,” you huffed. Alex let out a sharp laugh.

“It’s obvious he was flirting with you!” He shouted, causing people on the street you were walking down to turn and stare.

“Was not!” you exclaimed in return.

“Get a grip, y/n,” Alex muttered before continuing your walk home in silence, but not the comfortable silence you were so used to. What had changed?


A couple days later, after everything had returned to normal, you and Alex and your friends were gathered at Jessica’s house.

You sat in a corner of the couch beside Justin and Monty, with Alex on the ground by your feet.

Justin scooted closer to you until your legs were pressing up against each other.

“Hey y/n” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Whats hanging Justin?” you said happily.

“You look pretty amazing in that shirt,” Justin said with a crooked smile. Was Justin…. flirting? He was cute and all, but you weren’t sure he was quite your type. At your feet Alex lurched up and strode quickly to the kitchen.

“Sorry, I have to go,” you said, leaping up after him. Alex walked straight out the front door and you followed him. “Alex!” you called but he wouldn’t acknowledge you. “Alex!” you repeated.

“What!” he barked at you.

“Why have you been acting like this?” you asked, pain and anger in your voice.

“Isn’t it obvious y/n?” Alex asked, walking up to you. You stared blankly at him, just focused on how close his face was to yours. He was practically pressed up against you. “It’s because I love you,” he confessed softly. “I’ve loved you since eighth grade, you’re so perfect to me. I can never find a girl better than you.”

He dropped the gaze of his blue orbs to the ground as you paused. You never thought you’d hear this, and your heart raced as you replied.

“I love you too, Alex,” you said and he tilted his face up until his stare met yours. You were both silent for a moment before he gripped the back of your head and his lips met yours. You two were entrapped in your passionate kiss outside. Alex pushed you up against the wall, “I lose control around you, y/n,” he murmured into your mouth. You couldn’t reply as his lips overtook yours once more and he pressed every inch of his body against yours.

You two only broke apart when you heard hooting and hollering inside, and you looked up to see all your friends watching the two of you from the window. You felt your cheeks grow red but Alex rested his forehead against yours and muttered, “I love you, y/n.”

The two of you walked inside and were met with lots of congratulations. Jess squealed with you and all the guys patted Alex on the back.

“We knew flirting with her would get you guys together!” Justin exclaimed.

“Yeah, I mean she is hot-” Justin started, but was cut off by a death glare from Alex, your new boyfriend. You all returned to where you were, but this time you and Alex cuddled on the couch all night, not willing to let go of each other.

ACOWAR ft nessian .25

collabing with @togreblog who is the bomb.com.org.co.uk. tagging @madswagswaggers @illyriantremors @sparkleywonderful @propshophannah @immortal-awesomeness thanks for the support guys (: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24

Nesta woke up, again, to his screaming.

Her grief manifested as long bouts of silence, entire days staring out windows, hours and hours forgetting to eat. His was like this — loud, shattering, keeping him from rest.

“It’s over,” she whispered, not sure now if she’d even been asleep in the first place or if she’d been staring at the insides of her eyelids when his nightmare came. She gripped his shoulders with her hands, wishing she were bigger, wishing she could wrap herself around him utterly and save him from the world. “Cas, Cas, Cassian. It’s over. Wake up.”

His voice broke off, his breath still coming in gasps. His arms wrapped around her slowly as he emerged from sleep.

They clung to each other in bed, the room dimly lit with candles since Nesta could no longer be in the dark.

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anonymous asked:

prompt : chuck tries to get steamy with Betty and she doesn't want to but chuck won't take no for an answer? I thought of this when I saw Betty and jughead slapping/punching chuck so maybe jughead could come in to get him away from her? This is kinda bad but ugh

Chuck is just a typical douche in this, he doesn’t get really physically forceful or anything because I wasn’t comfortable writing it that way. Fluffy Bughead at the end though :)


Betty looked around her in frustration, circling in place. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. All she’d wanted was for a few of Jughead’s close friends to come round to the Andrews house, eat some good food, listen to some good music, have some much needed teenage fun for a night.

But then Hurricane Blossom arrived, trail of debris in tow.

Betty waded through the crowds of people, barely recognising anyone in the sea of faces that blocked her view as she desperately tried to find the birthday boy. He’d disappeared at the first sign of alcohol, running to find some kind of sanctity away from the tormenting masses that invaded his space.

“Betty Cooper. What, no black wig tonight?” The leering voice came from behind her. She closed her eyes for a beat, suppressing the surge of anger that shot through her at his tone, before turning to face him.

“What are you doing here, Chuck?” she demanded, not wasting a minute on humouring him. He raised his eyebrows, gesturing round the room vaguely.

“Err, if you hadn’t noticed it’s a party. Where else would I be?” he smirked.

“It’s Jughead’s party,” she shot back, voice hard as stone. His eyes widened briefly before he blinked away his shock.

“Dracula threw a party? Man, it’s always the quiet ones,” he chuckled, shaking his head. Her fists clenched, nails poised above the skin of her palms, ready to break the surface.

“No,” she spoke slowly, as if to a child. “This party is for Jughead; it’s his birthday and none of you should even be here.” The cocky expression didn’t leave his face as he looked her up and down, not paying the slightest attention to the words coming out of her mouth.

“You know, that sweater’s cute and all but I think I prefer the last outfit I saw you out in,” she sneered, voice low. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he took a step closer to her. She took a faltering step back, aware of how close the wall was to her back, how close Chuck was getting to her. He continued his prowl, dark eyes glinting in the dim flashing lights, predator stalking its prey. He was inches away from her now, backing her into a corner. Betty tilted her chin up in defiance, meeting his eyes with steel in her own.

“Do you remember what happened last time you messed with me, Chuck?” she spit through clenched teeth. A spree of emotions flickered across his features, remembrance, fear, anger, before settling back into his lazy smile.

“Yeah, you and your pal Veronica put on a little show for me. Hey, are you wearing that lacy bra tonight?” he crooned, hand reaching forward to begin to rest just the tips of his fingers against Betty’s waist.

In a flash her hand snapped up, slapping him firmly across his cheek. His face whipped sharply to the side, unprepared for the impact. Her eyes burned, a fury building up inside of her the likes of which she’d never felt before. First the party she lovingly prepared for Jughead had been crashed, said boy was nowhere to be seen, and now Chuck had dared to try his luck. It was enough. Her head began to spin, reality blurring with blind range as what was real slipped further and further from her grasp.

Chuck barely had his mouth open, preparing to throw out an onslaught of abuse, when he was yanked from in front of her eyes. She blinked rapidly, coming back down from her adrenaline rush, to see Jughead standing a few feet away, pupils blow wide and nostrils flaring as he braced himself in front of Chuck.

“Get your hands off her.” His voice was ice, the sharp edge slicing through the music as a crowd gathered around the pair. Chuck scoffed, squaring his shoulders as he prepared for a fight.

“Oh, look. Quasimodo gets the girl and all of a sudden he thinks he’s the hero,” he laughed, upper lip pulled back in a snarl. “Why don’t you-” His sentence was cut short as Jughead’s fist flew through the air, landing on Chuck’s cheekbone with a dull thwack. A chorus of ‘ooh’s rang out across the crowd as Chuck stumbled back, the surprise causing him to lose his balance and tumble in an ungraceful heap to the floor.

The feeling suddenly returned to Betty’s heavy legs as she looked at Jughead, chest heaving menacingly as he shook out his injured fist. She rushed to him, placing both hands on his chest, tilting her head to try and get him to look her in the eye. His eyes flew to hers and she blanched at the storm she met there, sky blue replaced by rolling grey. At her recoil he blinked, tension releasing from his muscles as his hands came up to delicately circle her, resting shaking fingers against her back.

“Come on, Jug, let’s go outside,” she soothed, gently pushing on him until his legs started walking backwards towards the front door.

The cool air hit their flushed faces, a welcome relief from the stifling, stale air of the party. He turned from her, edges of his sneakers tilting over the precipice of the Andrews’ front porch. She stood behind him, twisting her fingers nervously as she watched his shoulders rise and fall with deep breaths.

“I wouldn’t have let him do anything,” she began, small voice deafening in the quiet night air. She startled at his humourless laugh.

“I…” he paused, shoulders hunching as he deflated, anger leaving him at the sound of her voice, washing over him in soothing waves. “I know that, Betts.” He turned to look at her finally, eyes sad. “Of course I know that. I didn’t think… you shouldn’t feel…” he sighed in frustration, unable to get his words out. She was inches away from Chuck touching her and she sounded like she was… apologising? “Betty, I just don’t want anything, or anyone, to hurt you. Ever,” he breathed, reaching out with uncertain hands to cup her face. She went to him gratefully, burying her hands in the fabric of his sweater, leaning into his slightly clammy palms. “When I saw him, crowding you like that,” he closed his eyes, trying not to relive the memory. “I just saw red.” Betty pushed herself even closer to him.

“I feel like this is all my fault, Juggie,” she mumbled, lip quivering. “I just wanted you to have a nice birthday and then all this happened, because of me!” Her eyes filled with tears. He hushed her gently, trying to quash her worries with soothing strokes of his thumbs, catching the water droplets from her lower lashes before they could fall.

“No, Betty, don’t say that. I know you only wanted to do something nice,” he smiled, dipping his head to meet her downcast eyes. “I love the thought,” he whispered, rejoicing in the small giggle that slipped from her lips. “I’m sorry that Chuck ruined your party,” he said with a furrowed brow. She just shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, it wasn’t the night I wanted anyway,” she sniffed, shaking her head. He placed a hand at the base of her neck, pulling her forward to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She sighed contentedly, breath blowing against Jughead’s throat.

“I’ll never let anyone you don’t want get that close to you again,” he promised against her hair, tucking her head beneath his chin. They stood for moment in silence, wrapped around each other in the bright moonlight.

The sound of something smashing followed by loud cheers from inside broke them apart. Jughead rolled his eyes as Betty pulled back, straightening her shoulders and wiping away the lingering moisture beneath her eyes. Her gaze darted briefly to her own house across the road, windows dark and peaceful. He caught her look, raising an eyebrow in question.

“No one is home… wanna watch a movie?” she asked, offering him a warm smile. He laughed, lacing his fingers tightly through hers.

“Yeah,” he nodded, tucking a lose strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s exactly what I wanna do.”

Cop Car (montgomery de la cruz/reader)

“Your dad is gonna kill me” Montgomery sighed, looking down at his lap. Y/n threw her head back against the seat and laughed at the boy who normally wasn’t scared of anything. “It’ll be fine” she smiled reassuringly while running her hand up and down his arm. They had been at one of Bryce Walker’s parties and things got a little out of control causing a neighbor or two to call the police. They had just made it to the front lawn when they were both stopped and asked if they were old enough to be drinking and Monty’s wide eyes had been all the reason they needed to put them in the back seat. They had each only had two drinks, so they were only being escorted home but he knew he was already on thin ice with Y/n’s parents and he was very positive that they weren’t going to be letting her within breathing distance of him, the thought making his heart sink to his feet because she was the only girl he had ever felt this way for. “I say we run for it” she smiled and nudged him when a cop was running their names “Just think of the story we’ll be able to tell on Monday” she continued “I think you’re crazy as hell” Monty deadpanned “Besides, we can’t get out unless they let us out” he finished finally looking at her. There was something about the way the blue lights were shining that brought out some sort of excitement, like she felt some sort of freedom. Before he could say anything else she had closed the distance between them and smashed her lips against his. Yep. He loved her. He knew it now more than anything that he loved her. She brought out the best in him while he seemed to awaken some unknown wildchild inside of her. Before him she never skipped classes, talked back, or broke curfew. Three months later and she was still continuing to surprise him. They broke apart as the car lurched forward and they were told that he was taking y/n home first and that Montgomery could walk home from her house since how he was two houses away from her. The older boy just sighed and let his head thump against the window. Her dad was going to slaughter him. Sure as day, her dad had glared at him, told y/n to say good night to Monty, and slammed the door in his face. He groaned and stuffed his hands in his pockets and started the short walk home, thinking of something he could do to that would keep her dad from keeping him from seeing her. He had just stuffed his key into the handle when he heard the thumping of footsteps fast approaching him. “No” he thought before turning around and confirming his thoughts. There was y/n smiling at him, rocking back and forth on her heels. “What in the hell are you-” he was cut off by her once again crashing her lips onto his. This time he pulled her closer and caught the backs of her thighs when she jumped up into his arms, helping her wrap her legs around his waist and resting her back against the door that had yet to be unlocked. “I love you” he whispered against her lips, looking into her eyes “I know” she smiled “I love you too, Monty” she giggled as he kissed up and down her neck. “You should go before your dad starts digging a hole for my body” he laughed “Yeah, I should probably climb back into my window before he decides to check-” “Y/N! SAY GOOD NIGHT TO MONTGOMERY AND GET YOUR ASS BACK IN THIS HOUSE” the shouting of her dad cutting her off. “Oops” she laughed and quickly kissed Monty again before sprinting in the direction of her house, yelling for Monty to call her. Yeah, he loved her alright.

Old Flames

Rating: General
Characters: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers
Word Count: 3525
Summary: Peggy runs into an old friend

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Peggy walked directly into a stranger as she rushed through the crowded department store. She’d been hurrying, so there was some force. She bounced off the gentleman, and he grunted.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she said as she stumbled to catch her balance. “That was entirely my fault—I wasn’t looking. My—”

Her words halted as abruptly as she had.

“Well, I never,” said the man, who wasn’t a stranger at all.

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Wrong Place Wrong Time - Oli White Imagine

Oli’s P.O.V.

“Come on, Oli, it has been a week, you can’t stay inside forever.”

“I can perfectly do that.” My mom had sat herself down on the edge of my bed. I was staring out of my window, avoiding every bit of eye contact. All I wanted was to be left alone, isolated from the rest of the world, in the hope that the pain would fade away by itself.

“You know, it would be easier for me to help if you told me what happened.”

“I already did, she broke up with me.” The last words sounded harsher than I wanted them too. “I’m sorry…” I whispered. After all this wasn’t my mom’s fault, but my own stupid mistake.

“Let me help you, tell me what made her do it.” She softly stroked through my hair and I turned around to look at her. From the expression on her face I could tell that she was worried, that she didn’t like seeing me like this. I let out a deep sigh before I finally opened up to her.

“I’ve been really stupid, mum…” I sat up on my bed and told her the whole story.

Y/N and I met about 5 months ago on one of my book signings. She was doing an internship at the venue and her task was showing me around and making sure everything was put in the right direction. She was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. I remember her being incredibly nervous, forgetting what she was doing on a certain point and it only made her more attractive to me. I couldn’t keep my eyes of her the entire time and at the end of the day I plucked up my courage and asked her out. A few days later we had lunch together, another two weeks and a few dates later, we became a couple. We had the fairy tale type of relationship: we never fought, only had minor arguments that were solved immediately. We had the time of our lives and simply enjoyed each other’s company. She had become my best friend and my lover, someone I couldn’t live without. Until last week, when I made one stupid mistake.

“I shouldn’t have drunk so much, then I’d never been so close to that girl… I’ve ruined everything.” I had to try my hardest not to let a tear escape from the corner of my eyes. If a year ago anyone would’ve told me that I’d cry over a girl, I would’ve laughed at their faces.

“Did something happen that night? With that girl, I mean?”

“No, mum, nothing. I didn’t kiss her, or anything like that. Not even a hug. We literally were just really close together and I was having a good time. Until she threw her arms around me. I pushed her off me straight away, but the person that took this picture did it on the exact right time, so now it looks like I’m actually kissing her. I’ve ruined everything, I should’ve just stayed away from this girl…” I let out a deep sigh.

“Oh honey… have you tried talking to Y/N?”

“Yes, I tried, multiple times, but she simply wouldn’t hear me. So I gave up.”

“Why don’t you try again? It’s been a few days, she’ll have cooled off by now. I’m sure she’ll listen to you. She doesn’t seem like the type of girl that would leave things unsolved.” I managed to crack a little smile and gave my mum a hug. She left my bedroom, leaving me all alone with my thoughts again.

As always, mum was right. Minutes after she left, I picked up my phone and called Y/N’s number. She surprisingly picked up and agreed to meet up with me and listen to my side of the story. So there I was, one day later, sitting in a café all dressed up, waiting for her to arrive. I was half an hour early, so I already ordered something to kill time.

“What can I get you, handsome?” The waitress said with a wink. Exactly what I could use today, a random girl flirting with me. I didn’t want her, just like that other girl from that club.

“Latte, please.” I cracked a little smile in my attempt to not sound too rude. A few minutes later she came back with my coffee and a napkin with her number on it. I let out a nervous chuckle.

“You can take this napkin back, thank you. Look, you seem like a wonderful girl, but I’m not interested. I’m here waiting for someone to set things straight and I’d love to leave with her by my side. I’ve messed up once and I’m not planning on doing that again. I’m sorry.” I gave her back the napkin and she left without saying another word. I did feel bad for having to do this, but I did not want to take the risk of losing Y/N again.

“I might just consider leaving by your side.” A familiar voice came up from behind me.

“Y/N…” My mouth almost fell open from amazement. I was speechless for a second.

“Hi Oli.” Carefully she sat down on the chair facing me, a little smile curling around her lips. She was nervous as well, I could tell.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know that I might have jumped into conclusions a bit too fast. What’s the real story behind that picture?”

“Definitely not what you see.” I nervously laughed before telling her what I had told my mum the day before. How I had drunk a bit too much, how the girl had come close and I had let her, but how I pushed her away when she came too close.

“I feel so guilty for not listening to you in the first place. I’m sorry.” She said while walking over to me and putting herself down on the small bench I was sitting on.

“Don’t be. I’d probably react the same if I saw a picture like this of you. But I swear to God, you’re the only girl for me.”

“Can’t blame her for coming close though. I’d totally do the same if you weren’t already mine.” We had to laugh and I softly kissed her. That’s where I knew that everything would be alright.

“I love you, Oli White.” She whispered when we broke the kiss.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Originally posted by conormaynardaf


A/N: another imagine online, wooooooh! I hope you liked this one. Feel free to give any feedback or comment on the story. I’d love to hear from you! My requests are open as well, so don’t hesitate to send in one :)

Come Back For Me

Bruce has an internal conflict about his feelings for Selina


A/n– I really like this. The song is Come Back For Me by Jaymes Young. Set after Season 3 Finale

Warning-  None really


Title–Come Back For Me



-There’s a dark room inside of my head

Developing images I’d rather forget

You laced your tongue with a poison

And it makes me remember

Every night I look out my window

Afraid you might return for more

I miss your frozen love too much

And I’d overdose from just a touch

So, baby don’t come back-


Selina has always been a wildcard. Bruce knew that from the start. Yet he fell for her. Hard. But she had broke his heart. She blamed him. When she came to see him in the hospital he blew it. He was so angry and scared and in a bad place. He knew when she left he had ruined everything they had for good. He kept playing the memory over and over, wishing he could do something different. At night he stays in his study, waiting for Selina to come back. She’s creep into the room and say something witty or opinionated. But Bruce wouldn’t care. He would hug her, kiss her maybe. He missed her too much. If she came back, he knew he would drown in her again.


-Oh, whatever you do

Don’t come back for me

After all I’ve bled for you

I can hardly breathe

And one more kiss

Could take my life-

He did everything for her. He didn’t tell her about her mother because he cared so deeply for her. She shouldn’t come back. He would be better without her. He would work on cleaning up the city. He had done everything for her and she didn’t appreciate it. But he knew if she kissed him again, if they made up, he would choose her over Gotham.

-There’s a fire inside of my bed

Made of coals that I deeply regret

Oh, you left me burning with the embers

And I barely made it out alive-

He thought she cared about him. Maybe she did. After all she came to see him after the accident with Alfred. But he made his mistake. She wasn’t crying when she left. She looked sad, maybe, but with something like fire in her eyes. And fire she was. Destructing everything that gets in her way and leaves it in ruins. He would not become something for her to destruct.

-Oh, whatever you do

Don’t come back for me

After all I’ve bled for you

I can hardly breathe-

Bruce couldn’t take it anymore. He needed her around for good or not at all. All of his emotions came back to haunt him. He had to get out of Wayne Manor. There were too many memories of her here. He could hear her strong voice through the halls, feel her lips on his by the window. He’s had enough. So he ran.

-Oh, you’re back inside my dreams

Broken bones and empty screams

Sleepless nights in burning sheets

Lightning strikes inside my eyes

Tell me is this love alive

Tell me now or set me free-

He found himself on the roof with the birds. She had control over him subconsciously. She was in his dreams and nightmares. She was in the air around him. She was the electric snap of lightning in the air. She was the sound of thunder. She was the rush on the streets of Gotham and the familiarity of home. She was everywhere. He needed to know. After all of this did she love him? He loved her. He needed to know.

-Oh, whatever you do

Don’t come back for me

After all I’ve bled for you

I can hardly breathe

And one more kiss

Could take my life-


He needs her. She doesn’t need him. Or does she? He’s done as much for her as she has done for him. He felt like screaming. He thought about the kiss on the roof and though of Selina so upset, telling him to fight her. He thought about her kissing his cheek and the way she jumped in front the Court’s man, trying to protect him. She was all around him. She was like oxygen, he needed her to breathe. Her kisses were like poison. She would be the death of him. And he was okay with that.

2-year-old girl, 16-month-old boy found dead in hot car in Texas
Two children in Texas have died after they were locked in a hot car Friday as temperatures soared to 96 degrees, according to police. A 16-month-old boy and a 2-year-old girl were killed, police said. Their identities were not released.
By ABC News

“Deputies from the Parker County Sheriff’s Office were called to a home west of Lake Weatherford shortly after 4 p.m., police said.

The children’s mother told police that they “took off.” After searching for them on the property, she found them inside a small four-door vehicle, where they had somehow locked themselves inside, police said.

The mother then broke one of the windows and found the children unresponsive, police said. They were pronounced dead at 4:33 p.m.

In a statement, Parker County Sheriff Larry Fowler called the case especially heartbreaking and said that it is still in the early stages of the investigation.

No further details were immediately available.”

Title: breathe
Summary: Long ago, they’d promised not to let their feelings come in between in the midst of a mission. But today, in a fit of passion and need, they’re unable to keep up with those rules.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.
Prompt: heat
Warning(s): smUT
Comments: SS smut month has started and I am SO DOWN WITH THIS. Hopefully I can contribute as much as I’d like to (probably not though, I kinda doubt I’ll be able to write that much smut consecutively).

It was too hot.

His mouth on her pulse, his hand on her ass, teeth raking at her skin as he puffed ragged breaths against his pleasure, hips pumping sinfully fast; the room was so small, so cramped, the air around them so stiflingly heated. She didn’t even know what he’d pushed her against, only that it was cool and smoothed, and felt something like marble. She could only guess they were in a bathroom, but her mind was too lost to try and figure that out, too caught up in the feverish warmth of his skin against her own, of the pulse of pleasure in every hard thrust, of the blood pounding in her head and making her feel like she was burning, melting.

Music echoed past the door, drunken laughs mingled in the beats, but Sakura couldn’t seem to hear, spellbound into this world of heat and bliss and slicked flesh, where the air felt too hot and his thrusts were too fucking good and god, why couldn’t she breathe?

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Hooked Up

Prompt: Emma visits Hook in the hospital in season two. When Emma walks in, his heart monitor goes crazy. Fluffiness ensues.

Author’s Notes: I hope you like this! I had so much fun writing it. If any of you guys have a prompt, don’t be shy! And let me know what you think. 

Also a big thank you to @irishswanff for the prompt! 

Also available on FF.NET

Emma placed her hand flat against the cold metal panel and pushed. As the door swung open, she stepped inside, letting it close behind her. The room was small and dark, the only light source a lamp hanging from the ceiling. It was enough that she could see the bed in front of her. More importantly, she could make out the person in the bed.

“Hello, love.”

“Hook,” she greeted, expressionless. She made her way over to the window, and pulled on the blinds until they squeaked and broke. Yellow sun poured through the gaps and flooded the room.

That was better. She could see him properly now, squinting in the sudden light, his hand thrown over his eyes.

He was dressed in hospital clothing and the thick, cream dressing gown they’d provided. It was odd to see him in such a thing. Emma had become used to the long leather coats and his swashbuckling style. It was hard to picture him as a pirate now. Especially since she was still finding it hard to believe fairy tale pirates existed anyway.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he murmured. Once he’d gotten used to the light, he removed his hand.

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[help I’ve fallen into the Marichat pit]

The feather light footsteps of Chat Noir running across the Parisian rooftops came as light as the falling rain and though the storm clouds hung heavy his night vision gave him visibility as clear as day. It didn’t take him long to reach a certain rooftop, one he’d been visiting for a while now; the rooftop of the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

He landed with a gentle thud on her balcony with an easy smile, until he saw the crying girl through the window. Marinette was crumpled into a mess of tears and paper; her sketchbook was open and littered everywhere was unfinished drawings and lists with samples of fabric carefully glued in place. Her eyes, normally sparkling blue, were scrunched, blotchy red and her face was twisted into utter despair. Chat felt a part of him twist and ache in the wake of her pain.

Tentatively, he knocked softly on the window with his knuckle and her eyes slowly travelled to meet his. She wiped her eyes stubbornly and let him in, turning away from him the second he stepped inside.

“Marinette -” he breathed, reaching out to catch her hand in his own but he was just a little too late. He realised now was not the right time for a pun. “What happened?”

When she turned to face him he could see the tear streaks up close and part of him broke because she was still so beautiful, even now, and it hurt him so badly to see her crying so hard and all he wanted was for her to be happy, damn it. Without thinking, he twisted a piece of her hair between his fingers and cupped her cheek in his palm.

“Chat …”

Her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper and she broke again, her face crumpling up and tears streaming down her cheeks. Chat took her in his arms and held her as she cried into his shoulder, great sobs heaving throughout her whole body and his grip on her tightened. He didn’t care how she got into this state anymore. All he wanted was to make her happy, because damn it against everything he felt for Ladybug, part of him loved Marinette so hard it hurt. It wracked him with guilt, but for the moment he needed to be there for her and as long as she was here he would hold her and make sure that whenever she was with him, he would make her his princess.

“I’m sorry -” she sniffed into his chest, “I’m being stupid -”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, “please, don’t ever say that.” Without thinking, he kissed her forehead gently. She lifted her head to look at his blushing face but she wasn’t angry. Instead she reached for his collar, running the leather between her forefinger and thumb. Pulling instinctively, she drew him down to her and their lips collided in a rush of heat, tears and pangs of guilt. Her hands ran wild through his hair; his were fixed to her waist, pulling her closer and closer until no space was separating them anymore, only the fabric of their clothes. Chat’s breath was hot and desperate in her mouth and her lips were red and wet from kissing. When they drew away their gaze was met through half lidded eyes.

“Chat -”

“Are you okay?” Chat whispered, his hands clasping hers tight. She nodded with a suppressed sob.

“I am now.”

Fire Dancer- Chapter 2: Reunion

Nalu Week- Day 2

Word Count: 3304

Title: Fire Dancer

Summary: Lucy Heartfilia is the unobtainable noblewoman who desperately pines for a greater adventure; Natsu Dragneel is a traveling fire dancer, offering promises of love and freedom. Can the girl with her head in the stars and the boy with the knack for getting burned survive in a world desperate to keep them apart? Noble girl x Poor boy AU. Nalu Week.

Rating: M (sexual content in later chapters)

|Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 |

Chapter 2: Reunion

           Lucy sat up in her bed, eyeing the draping fabric of the canopy overhead that rustled with each spring breeze brushing past her open window. The adventure from the night before resulted in another long scolding from her father, leaving her restless and without sleep. She clutched her knees to her chest, her silken nightgown bunching around her ankles.

           She turned her face to watch the first rays of morning light pour through the windows, basking the world in an orange glow. A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she remembered her mother watching the sunrise with her every morning—Lucy would sip on freshly made hot cocoa and listen to her mother recount animated tales of warrior fairies and charming dragons.

           A faint knock against her door broke her from her silent daydream as several women pushed inside with a new tailored gown and a tray of overly expensive food not filling enough for a mouse.

           She offered no resistance as the maids busied themselves with her primping and priming, dragging a bristled comb through her hair and tightening a corset around her petite waist. Even as the women pulled the strings, nearly crushing the air from her lungs, Lucy said nothing—she merely gazed out her window at the blossoming fields below. What once was a brilliant ember burning behind her eyes now lay snuffed out in a pile of smoking ashes.

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Originally posted by livingthegifs

SUMMARY: Sam remembers how he came to meet you on a day he never thought he would get to have.

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1672(including lyrics)

WARNINGS: language, fluff?, angst?

A/N: This has been my favorite thing to write in quite some time, I actually had some tears while writing it. This is for @wayward-oneshots 100 follower celebration! I picked the song “H.O.L.Y.” by Florida Georgia Line. I hope you all like it! Congratulations on your milestones! Also the lyrics are in bold and the memories are in italics.

Tagging: @ellen-reincarnated1967 @demondean-for-kingofhell @winchesterprincessbride @jotink78 @iamdeanfknwinchester @winchestersnco @skybinx-blog @16wiishes @s4m-w1nch3st3r5287 @mrswhozeewhatsis @kydamyankee

When the sun had left and the winter came

And the sky thawed to only bring the rain

I sat in darkness

All broken-hearted

I couldn’t find a day I didn’t feel alone

I never meant to cry, started losing hope

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#59. “Tell me to go and I will, but if you ask me to stay I’ll never leave you again.”//#78. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you."

Graduation day was finally here. And even though Malia never considered herself an overly emotional person, she couldn’t help but feel so much today.

And she thought a lot too. About people. Her friends, mostly. The people who mattered. Her pack.

“What are you think about?” Lydia asked Malia through the mirror, noticing the way her eyes would become deeper and more thoughtful at times.

“You know,” Malia started, feeling the heat radiating off the flat iron that Lydia was running through her hair on the back of her neck. “Everyone,” she said vaguely.

After so long, all of junior year and the beginning of senior year, she had thought it would be her and Stiles against the world after graduation. Things hadn’t worked out after the breakup. Even after Lydia was out of Eichen, even after Kira had come back, even after Theo and his pack had been taken care of. Even after the the pack had become one again. Even after everything.

She blinked the feeling of a tear away and focused on something else, like the pattern on Lydia’s bedding.

“Well,” Lydia said as she ran a hand through Malia’s hair and turned the flat iron off. “Don’t worry. We’ll never be far from each other,” she said, talking about the pack as well as the both of them.

“I know,” Malia said, offering a smile. But the truth was, she knew even though that strong relationships have been developed, not being in high school was guaranteed to put a hole through even the strongest ones.

As she stood up and brushed the front of the dress, upon another request from Lydia, she smiled a genuinely. Enough of these sad, pessimistic thoughts. She was done. She was graduating. No more high school math to torture her anymore. That was worth celebrating.


“We did it,” Kira said as she turned her head to look at all of her friends down the row, slightly bouncing up and down, smiling at the graduating pack. Scott, Malia, Lydia, and Stiles all returned a smile as they took their seats at the auditorium, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Lydia sat on the edge, so she could get up to the stage easily; she was delivering her valedictorian speech. Then Malia, then Stiles, Scott, and Kira.

Stiles and Malia thought that they have definitely gotten over any serious awkwardness between them. Though neither of them could deny the slightly ever present and ever growing gap between them in the rare occasion that the pack forgets the unspoken seating chart and leave them to sit next to each other.

But they were friends, they guessed.

Malia made sure to lean a little closer to Lydia, often whispering something into her ear, commenting on the ceremony.

Stiles couldn’t care less about the seniors standing up to get their diplomas. He, frankly, only cared about one person getting it, Malia.

*No, not like that*, he thought. He liked to believe it was because he spent so many hours of his life helping her study to pass exams that led her here, but he knew better.

Even all the way now, even after everything, he knew it was more of her than him that led her here. She did it and beat all odds. Some seniors that have been human all their lives and didn’t spend half their time fighting evil creatures weren’t graduating but she was.


After the ceremony wrapped up, they were all in the hallway, each knowing that even though they would all see each other relatively soon, it wouldn’t be the same. They would be in college and starting their lives. In fact, Lydia was leaving in two days, Scott in a week, Kira in two.

The girls were engaged in a conversation, planning a summer vacation. They couldn’t wait until the holidays. Malia pretended to listen to the ramblings of beach getaways as she watched Stiles out of the corner of her eye as he talked to Scott. She couldn’t believe they would be separated by so much distance. They were best friends. You can’t be apart from the people you love.

He expressed happiness for Scott, grinning, laughing, and a light punch here and there as they talked about how he would be in college, studying to be a vet in two short, short weeks.

But Malia saw his disappointment. In himself, mostly. She knew that a lot of her friends couldn’t wait to leave and make some thing of themselves, Stiles included in that list. But he was going to stay in this small, yet very peculiar town.

“Okay,” Kira said, looking at her phone, swallowing. “I got to go now. My parents are finally letting me go get a few, final touches for my dorm,” she smiled. After a couple of hugs, Malia, Lydia, and Stiles waved Scott and Kira goodbye, knowing the next time they would see them would be Thanksgiving break. Or a beach, who knew?

Lydia looked on, with a somewhat pained look. But not pain for not seeing them, exactly. Malia knew she would miss them, but they would see each other soon. A look that expressed something Malia couldn’t put a finger on. “I have to go help her pick it out,” she said, running after them, her cap and gown swinging begin her. Pain for shopping being done without her.

“Lyd-” Malia started, but stopped, knowing there was no way to stop her.

Both of them watched the three of them walk off until they turned the corner, disappearing from the hall. Malia silently cursed Lydia. She made her and Kira promise they would never leave her alone with Stiles.

“I-I’m going to go too,” Malia said, slowly turning to Stiles, not yet meeting his gaze. She started to walk to the direction everyone else left, but she felt his wrist on her hand. Her eyes followed his arm all the way up to his eyes.

“I-I need to talk to you,” Stiles said, stumbling over his words like Malia had. “I need to do this now,” he said, not knowing if they would get to see each other alone for a while.

“Okay,” Malia said nervously, pulling her hand away and taking a step back.

Stiles took a deep breath, swallowing his pride. “I’m sorry,” he said. Those words had not seen the light of day for ages.

“For what?” Malia asked, about to say he didn’t need to pay her the dollar he had borrowed last week.

“For everything,” he said. This was hard. Apologizing and confessing his wrongdoings to others was not his forte. “I’m sorry I was being a crappy boyfriend. I’m sorry I didn’t help with your mom. Im sorry I left you on your own in math. I’m sorry for not being there. I’m sorry,” he said, looking into her eyes, searching for forgiveness. “For everything.”

Malia stared in confusion, taken back by this. Stiles didn’t do this often.

“It’s okay,” Malia said, offering him the awkward-yet-somewhat-friendly smile both of them had become so familiar with. “I guess I’ll see you around,” she said, planning to go catch up to Scott, Kira, and Lydia before they left.

Stiles sighed, not really knowing if he wanted to go on. “Do you forgive me?”

Malia furrowed her eyebrows together. “I told you, it’s okay,” she said, confused on why he didn’t get that as her forgiveness.

“But do you forgive me?” Stiles asked again, feeling the need to make sure Malia forgave him.

“Yes,” Malia nodded, turning around, beginning to walk down the hall and away from Stiles.

“But do you really-” Stiles called after her but then stopping himself. Why did he even care that much? Most of the times he never apologized to anyone. Things just seemed to work out. Why did he need this from Malia?

Malia turned back around. “Why do you care?” Malia asked, conscious that now she had crossed the strict, acquaintance-banter they had engaged in for the past months.

Stiles swallowed, again doubting himself on why he cared so much. “It’s nothing. Never mind,” he said, dismissing the thought.

“It’s something,” Malia said, crossing her arms.

Stiles debated if he wanted to tell her. He took a deep breath, while she watched the late afternoon light wash over her, lightening her hair, and giving her a heavenly glow. It’s now or never. “I just want you to forgive me,” he confessed.

“I do,” Malia half-lied.

“No, you don’t,” Stiles said, defeatedly taking a seat on the stairs. “I just don’t want you to go a world away from m-here and still have this… this weirdness, awkwardness, tension, whatever,” he said.

“I’m telling you, I forgive you,” Malia said, every second making the half-lie she said a second ago a full truth. She thought for a second as she saw Stiles sitting down on the stairs, the warm light, filling the room from the windows above the stairs.

Stiles nodded, sighing of relief.

Malia still stood a couple of feet away from him.

Neither of them made a move to leave for some reason. Some sort of bond refusing to break forever.

She walked over to him and sat on the stairs next to him. He looked to her and a hint of nostalgia settled inside of him.

They found comfort in each other, something they both desperately needed, but denied from themselves.

Malia thought about why Stiles cared for her forgiveness after so long.

“Thanks,” Malia broke the silence after a little while.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she said, touching her diploma.

Stiles smiled at her. “You could have done that without me. You can do anything without me,” Stiles said sadly, another wave of bittersweet nostalgia washing over him, remembering the countless nights Malia had kept him up, questioning human etiquette and endless afternoons of studying at his house. “Or without anyone,” he added so it wouldn’t be too awkward.

Malia shrugged, not really wanting to convince Stiles of the fact that he had been a big part of her not only becoming human again, but also for being a part of who she is now. He knew.

“Stiles,” Malia said, a tone of slight panic in her voice.

“Yeah?” Stiles said turning to check if she was okay.

“We’re not going to see each other until Thanksgiving,” she said, coming to the realization that this was it.

Stiles didn’t answer. He looked at his lap, knowing that she would go far away from him and probably even bring some other boy home for Thanksgiving.

Malia set her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her, pressing a kiss to his lips.

She pulled away, almost abruptly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” she said the distress in her voice coming through.

Stiles didn’t think so. But like most things they felt or thought, they kept it to themselves.

Malia, stood up, brushing the non-existent dirt off her gown, and straightened the cap on her head. “I’m sorry,” Malia said again, noticing how unlike her she sounded.

“Malia,” Stiles said, standing up. He took a breath to say something… meaningful for the both of them. But the barrier that had blocked them from each other stood tall and proud, winning again. “I-um… I’ll miss you,” he said awkwardly, not sure if he should go for a hug or a handshake.

Malia didn’t move, listening to an audacious thought running through her head. “Tell me to go and I will,“ she said, pausing to make sure she wanted to continue. “But if you ask me to stay I’ll never leave you again,” she finished, picking her head up to look at him.

The first words spilled out almost by accident. They sounded like an accident. She didn’t mean to say something as bold as that. But the last few were spoken with a sense of knowing what Stiles’ answer would be.

Stiles said it as soon as she was done speaking. “Stay.”

[Mark] Teacher's Pet (Chapter 74)

All Chapters

I feel it in my gut, it’s Olivia, his ex. He must have seen her walking out, he knows I’ve seen her. His reaction will say it all. My heart jumping in my chest, I open the door of the restroom, and find an agitated Mark pacing up and down. His hair is a mess, indicating he’s ran his hands through it and pulled at it. He stops dead in his tracks and looks up at me, eyes wide with alarm. He says it all.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” I ask. “It’s Olivia.” I murmur. The absence of frown, the lack of confusion on his face, the way he just gapes at me. He’s so busted.


“You’re seeing her?!” I splutter, a wave of anger sweeping through me.

“No!” He cries, walking to me. “No, it’s not like this.” He says. So he did see her multiple times, he is in contact with her. Why?

“Come, let’s go home.” He takes my hand, but I yank it out of his grip.

“You saw her yesterday.” I mutter. The sound of voices make us look at a couple who’s walking towards the restroom.

“Not now, please. Let’s go home.” Mark says more quietly, taking my hand again. I obey, because I know this is not the right place to do this.

I’m fuming by the time Jacob, our occasional driver closes the door of the car. Mark sits next to me on the backseat, squeezing my hand. I completely shut him out, gazing out the window the whole way home.

I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’s seeing her. Olivia, the woman who used to beat him, the woman who’s one of the causes of his psychological issues. I can’t believe he’d want to see her.

One again, he did all of it behind my back. Even if he had a good reason to see her, he hided it from me. He’s a sneaky son of bitch.

Why? Why would he want to see her? He saw her yesterday. He saw her yesterday and missed my graduation ceremony. He went to Seattle because of her. He chose her over me.

He chose this woman over me.

I love him with all of my soul, and she used to beat him, yet he chose her.

It feels like being stabbed in the heart, and the knife keeps twisting with ever thought bouncing in my head. He was with her. What did he do with her?

It’s the second time I find out he has contact with one of these women I despise. The second time he hides it from me. What is he looking for by them? Why attracts him to them like this? Why does he keep going back to them?

Ellie was a thing. But Olivia, that woman. The person I hate the most on heart. That is something else. I’m not sure I can overcome this. Whatever this is.

Will I ever get past that betrayal, of whatever nature it is? Can I survive this betrayal?

I’ve lost all my words by the time we come home, and I feel exhausted, both emotionally and physically. My lips firmly sealed, I kick my heels off, slip out of my dress, throw on a satin nightdress, brush my hair, tie it up, then erase my make up and brush my teeth. Mark doesn’t come bother me, wandering somewhere in the apartment. Of course he doesn’t come to me, because he’ll have to explain, and I know he dreads this conversation. When I’m done, I make my way down the hallway into his office. Then I sit down on his desk and contemplate my wall.

When things are not okay between Mark and I, I come here and sit down. It brings me back to what I know, that he loves me and that he doesn’t want to hurt me. It doesn’t make the wound it my heart hurt less, but gives me purpose to fight. I don’t know if I’ll push through this, hut I have to try.

The door opens and I turn my head in its direction, finding Mark standing in the doorway, changed in nothing but some sports shorts.

“You came late to the graduation ceremony because you were with her.” I say, my eyes cold and hard.

“I didn’t sleep with her.” He murmurs quietly, closing the door behind him.

“I still feel betrayed and cheated on.”

“I understand.” He replies.

“What did you do with her?”

“I take care of her. Financially.” He says.


“I regularly give her money.” He explains. What the hell?

“She doesn’t need money!” I snap pushing myself of his desk.

“She’s ruined.” He counters.

“I take care of her business, and I’ll give it back to her when it starts working again. But for now she needs my help.”

She needs his help? And he cares? He fucking cares for her? Suddenly, I feel like my heart is being crushed in my chest.

“You…” I start, but my throat is blocked, and through air drains out of my lungs. He cares for her. He cares for her.

“You…” I stutter. His brow ceases, and he takes a step forward, reaching out to me.

“Breathe, Abby.” He coos, grabbing my shoulders.

“Don’t touch me!” I jerk away from his touch and turn on my heels, walking ti the windows. Running a hand through my hair, I sigh deeply. I really don’t know how to handle this.

“Her husband left her because she was crazy.” He continues. “That made her mental problems even worse, and she fucked up her life. She came to me.” He says.

“When?” I ask without looking back at him. The only answer I get is silence.

“When?” I snap, turning to glare at him.

“Remember the red-haired woman who broke inside my old apartment?” He asks. It was her? He told me they never caught her!

“She confessed to me three years ago. She came to office and cried, she said she was going to kill herself.” He explains. So, this has been going on for three whole years? This, whatever it is, feels as wrong as an affair.

“She needs doctors, not your money.” I say slowly.

“She won’t go the hospital.” He sighs.

“Can I know how long you planned to keep that up behind my back?” I ask. This is the problem with him. He hides things from me and when I find out, he’s sorry. I always have to forgive, he never makes the effort of telling me.

I don’t know how I would have reacted if he had told me from the start, but all I know now is that he’s a sneaky bastard.

“Try to understand-”

“You lied to me!” I utter. He wants me to understand?! I would never lie to him about something like this. I would never support someone who made me feel suicidal.

“It never made me happy. I wasn’t pleased to hide it from you.” He says. Oh, like someone had forced him!

“Then why?”

“I don’t want my past to stain my future.” He murmurs.

“She’s not your past, she’s your present!” I shout. “She’s here, right now!”

“By not telling you, I was keeping some distance.” He replies calmly, not fazed. I groan, running both hands in my hair, my head feeling like it’s about to explode, emotion sweeping though me like a tsunami.

“How can you do this?” I ask. “How can you take care of her after what she did to you?”

I see his expression change, going from calm yet apologetic to straight, giving nothing away.

“I beat her.” He says quietly.

“Don’t even go there.” I raise my index at him. We’ve had this discussion countless times, and I hate that I can never make him change his mind.

“She’s a woman, and I hit her.” He articulates. She deserved it! So that’s why he’s giving her money? Because he feels bad? Wait.

“She’s holding it against you, isn’t she?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. “That bitch is blackmailing you!”

“No, I’m holding it against myself.” He retorts. “I feel responsible for her.” He says.

“You’re not!”

“Maybe I’m not, but that’s how I feel.” He says. So, it’s always going to be like this. I realize it now, all the progress he made went away when she reappeared. One step forward three steps back.

How can he possibly free himself from his past if it’s constantly begging for money?

“Stop taking care of her.” I order. That’s not something I do a lot, ordering him. But he’s going way too far and he hurt me. There’s no way I’m living with this weight, so there’s only one option.

“I can’t.” He says softly. He can’t. He doesn’t want to. I nod, not finding anything to say, absorbing it all. This is the last drop before the vase overflows. I decide I’ve had enough, and walk past him to the door.

“Abigail.” He admonishes, grabbing my wrist. I stop and turn to him.

“Stop taking care of her.” I repeat. He opens his mouth be no sound comes out for a moment.

“It’s just money.” He says. It’s just money. And it’s just Olivia Russet. Of course.

“Stop taking care of her!” I shout, losing my patience. He gazes at me for a long moment, his eyes filled with sadness, and slowly, he shakes his head.

“That’s it.” He say more quietly, my voice failing me, my throat tightening, tears wildly pouring out of my eyes. “Choose her over me.” I mutter, yanking my arm free from his grip. I turn on my heels and storm about of his office.

“I’m not choosing anyone over you.” He calls after me.

“Abby!” He shouts, following me into our bedroom.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” I mutter, my voice shaky because of my tears. I circle the bed and get to my side, flipping the covers.

“I’m not choosing her over you.” He repeats, but I’m not listening. He’s wrecked me and I need to cry this out before I go crazy. I slip under the covers and curl myself into a ball, giving my back to him.

The bed dips and I feel him close to me, his breath against my ear.

“Are you going to ignore me now?” He asks, I don’t reply, crying silently, trying to shut him out.

“She threw a fit yesterday, she threatened to hurt herself if I left.” He explains, his voice soft.

“I didn’t want to miss the ceremony, you know it.” He says. No. I don’t know anything anymore.

“Stop supporting her.” I plead one last time, before letting the tears take over. I break into more tears, sobbing, my whole body shaking violently. Mark slips under the covers next to me, and then I feel his arms around me.

“Let me hold you.” He pleads.

“Don’t touch me.” I sob, but I don’t have the strength to push him away. I’m not sure I want to, because he’s the inly one who can stop me from hurting. But he says he can’t.

“I want to hold you.” He murmurs, turning me around so I’m facing him. He cradles me against his chest, and I bury my face in his neck, crying myself to sleep while he keeps repeating he’s sorry. He’s both the pain and the cure.


I wake, wrapped around warmth and safety. My head is pounding, and my eyes feel heavy. Slowly, I drag them open, finding myself sprawled over Mark, my arm and leg over his body. Last night’s memories come back to me instantly, and the ache in my chest starts again. “Hi.” Mark murmurs, pulling my eyes up to his.

“Morning.” I reply, rolling onto my back stretching.

“Are your okay?” He asks, kissing my temple.

“I’m still mad at you.” I mumble, putting a hand on his chest but not pushing him away. Mad being an understatement.

“Alright.” He sighs, pulling away from me. “I’ll go make breakfast.” He declares, and with that he’s out of bed and into the bathroom.

I linger under the covers for a moment, still tired from last night. Olivia comes to my mind, and I shake my head vigorously, not wanting to start my Sunday with her. I don’t want to think about her. After ten minutes, I find the strength and get out of bed, tidying it before brushing my teeth. After washing my face et redoing my ponytail, I adventure myself in the living area. There are two glasses, a bottle of apple juice and two plates in the breakfast bar, and the kitchen smells like sweet pancakes. Mark is busy over the stove.

I perch myself on one of the stools, and Mark drops a plate of pancakes in front of me.

“Pancakes.” He declares.

“Thank you.”

He takes place in front of me, and we eat a heavy, yet telltale silence. I focus on my breakfast, deliberately shutting him out, not wanting to deal with anything for now. I feel like we stay like this for an eternity.

“Talk to me.” Mark sighs, dropping his fork and knife. I look up at him impassively.

“I know you’re mad at me. Let it out, yell at me. Just talk to me. I hate not knowing what you’re thinking.” He murmurs.

“How would you feel if I you found out I support Liam financially?” I ask him, wanting him to understand why I’m quiet, and wanting him to get a taste of his own medicine.

His eyes widen a little, and then his features harden, his jaw clenching. He says nothing.

“Exactly. I’m speechless.” I say.

“How long are you going to give the silent treatment?” He sighs again. Frankly, I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ever going to push through this.

“I don’t know how to deal with this.” I say in a way of explanation.

“That puts us in an impasse.” He remarks.

You put us in an impasse.” I retort.

“It doesn’t change anything between you and me.” He murmurs. “I’m still the same, I’m madly in love with you. I’m not having an affair with her.” He says.

“She was acting very cocky.”

“It’s her character.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She wasn’t supposed to be there. I moved her to Seattle and she wasn’t supposed to come to LA.” He says.

“You moved her?”

“Distance.” He reminds me. An apple phone rings, and since mine is in our bedroom, I know it’s his. He pulls it out of his shorts and looks at the ID.

“Excuse me.” He says before leaving the room. I sigh, feeling drained. I’m not hungry anymore.

Picking up my plate, I walk to the bean and throw the last half of my pancake away before putting my plate in the sink. I walk past his office as I head back to the bedroom to take a shower.

I stop in front of his office.

Why did he go to his office to take this call. He never does that. He always answers his calls in front of me, because he doesn’t want to leave me, and I always have the one to walk away. It’s her.

I press my ear against the door to listen to his conversation.

“I’m not joking, Olivia. You come close to her again, and I’m done with you.” His voice resonates. It’s her! He stays quiet for a moment.

“No.” He sighs. Silence.

“Liv.” He says, his tone softer that before. So she’s Liv now? Where is the ‘you’re the one whom I want to use the nickname’ bullshit?

“Livy, listen to me.” He pleads. More silence.

“I do, I do.” He says reassuringly. He started of firm and confident, and know he’s cooing.

“Just don’t come near her again, okay?” He says. Silence.

“How much?” He asks. I gasp. She wants money. Money to stay away from me? No. Not possibly.

“Alright, you have it.” He says. “Bye.”

I quickly jump away from the door, rushing back to the breakfast bar. I sit back on my stool and wait for him.

Seeing how she destabilizes his authoritative self, I under this goes way deeper than I thought. He’s acting as if he’s under her control. But then she’s not blackmailing him. What the hell is it?

I need answers. Psychological answers.

Mark comes out moments later, sitting across me.

“Does Dr Davis know about this?” I ask him. A positive answer would have made me mad, because it would have meant he had no intention of telling me, but now I need to know Davis knows what’s going on.

“Yes.” He confesses.

“What does he say?”

“He understands.” He says confidently.

“He understands.” I snort.

“You don’t believe me?” He raises an eyebrow at me.

“Should I?” I challenge. Seeing how he plays with my trust. And I know how he would love Davis to be on his side

“Yes.” He snaps.

“Well, I don’t.”

“You’ll have to, because he’s under medical secret and won’t tell you about it.”

“When is your next appointment?”

“Not until two weeks.” He says. Two weeks? When he’s supposed to see him once a week?


“Because we are leaving for a week.” He says slowly. We’re leaving? What? Oh! He’s talking about our fuck week. That is definitely off the program.

“I thought it was self-obvious that I don’t want to leave with you anymore. Don’t even ask why.” “We’ll work things out.” “No. We work things out before. I’m not leaving, end of.” I snap, and he opens his mouth to retort something.

“Don’t even try to argue with me.” I grind out, raising a threatening index finger at him. He closes his mouth and sighs, leaning back.

“So what now? What do we do?” He asks, throwing his hands in the air in emphasis.

“You go to work, and I’ll find something to make myself busy.” I reply. How funny is this? Me sending him to work when I was desperate to keep him naked in bed? It’s okay, because now I don’t want to have him 24/7 with me.

Plus, I had forgotten I have an appointment with Dr Miller for my birth control shot. I had to push it back a week later because of my exams and she scolded me because I always reschedule, and it’s important to take my shot every twelve weeks. She made me promise not to have sex before our appointment, and when I said yes, I didn’t think I’d feel so horny after reconnecting with Mark.

Two weeks late the maximum I should be, and I have 70% chances to get pregnant during that period. I initially had planned to fuck all week, I would have been doomed for sure.

Mark’s lips form a grim line, and I know he’s not pleased with me sending him to work, but he wisely says nothing.

“Why do you want me to go see Davis anyway? What does he have to do with this?” He asks.

“I want to go see him with you.” I explain.

“So you can hear what he thinks of it?”


His eyes harden and his jaw clenches, sign of his building anger.

“And so you can build your own diagnostic?” He spits. I know he’s sensitive about how I handle his problems, we’ve had enough fights about it. But he’s not in the right position to get mad at me. When I glare at him, he glares right back at me.

“I’m not your fucking patient.” He mutters, and I lose it. Not even trying to stop the angry tears that are springing to my eyes, I lean on my elbows and look straight in his blazing eyes.

“What you did, what you’re still doing, affects me, badly.” I say quietly, keeping my tone even despite the lump in my throat. My tears flow, but I don’t care.

“You want me to live with it, well I’m trying to understand.” I explain, and see the fire of anger in his eyes turn into guilt and sadness.

“I want to understand why you need this so much that you expect me to live with with that pain.” I add, my voice cracking at the end of my sentence, betraying the turmoil of emotion inside me. Leaning forward again, he takes my tear-stained face in his hands.

“I’m sorry I’m hurting you.” He murmurs sincerely, his eyes reflecting pain. “You have to understand it was never my intention.” He says, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

“But you knew it would hurt me.” I retort as he rises and circles the breakfast bar to stand in front of me.

“Yes.” He confesses, grabbing my face again. So he knew he would hurt me, he knows he’s hurting me, but he can’t stop.

“Then why?” I ask, more tears falling out of my eyes.

“Do you need her that much?”

“No!” He shakes his head vigorously. “No, I don’t need her at all. I need you, you know I only need you.” He murmurs.

“Then what is it?”

“I…” He starts, and for one second I think he’s going to explain, give me answers, erase my pain. His eyes search actively into mine, and then he says.

“I’m sorry.”

Jean Jackets, Boots, and I Love You’s (Part 3)

Note: So, this is the final installment to this three parter. I loved writing this. I’m still working on Moments Gone, there shall be a new chapter up this week…eventually. A Joshaya one too, and I’m currently writing a Smarkle superhero one shot with Farkle as Spider-Man.

Lucas Friar suddenly opened the bay window with a loud bang, causing Riley to jump. She stepped off her bed, her wide eyes following him as he climbed inside.

“Lucas, what are you doing here?” She squeaked out.

“Since we broke up I figured I’d get my things,” He stated simply. “You gave me all my shoes back except one and I want it back.”

Riley’s face faltered as Lucas plucked his boot off her nightstand. It was the first boot her father ever took from him when he chased him out.

“F-fine,” She stuttered out, her voice swelling with emotions she was trying to hold back. “Take it. I don’t want it.”

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