#I spent ages editing a chapter for my fic

[metalhoops]

Steve starts driving Eddie places after he gets out of the hospital. It just makes sense. He’s so used to chauffeuring Robin and the kids around, that driving with Eddie is natural. Sure, unlike the others Eddie has a driver’s license, but they both know the road is a hell of a lot safer when Eddie isn’t behind the wheel. 

The thing is, Eddie’s always complaining about Steve’s music. Steve’s a simple guy. He turns on the radio and listens to whatever it spoon-feeds him (pop garbage, according to Eddie). Steve likes the music well enough. He’s never really loved music, it’s just background noise. Hell, when pushed Steve couldn’t think of what his Vecna song would be. So to avoid Eddie’s gripes he relents and lets Eddie leave a couple of his cassettes in the BMW. 

At first, Steve only plays the tapes when Eddie’s in the car but as time passes something changes. Steve finds himself driving home alone, dreading returning to the cold and quiet halls he knows await him in Loch Nora. The radio isn’t cutting it when it comes to drowning out the background chatter and dread in his head, so he switches over to one of Eddie’s tapes. It makes him feel less alone. He can imagine Eddie’s ringed fingers tapping their way across the passenger door furiously to the beat of the song, and he doesn’t feel so alone. 

That’s how some of the tapes manage to migrate from his car to the tape deck in his room. When he plays them, he feels like the house comes alive, that he isn’t alone. He doesn’t tell Eddie, of course. He doesn’t tell anyone. One day he slips up while driving Dustin to Hellfire. 

“I didn’t pick you as a metalhead, Steve,” Dustin notes with a shit-eating grin. 

He’s confused at first, until he hears the familiar tune of Metallica’s Welcome Home, through the BMW’s speakers and knows he’s messed up. Dustin definitely brings it up as soon as he gets to Hellfire, spouting nonsense about how Eddie’s corrupted Steve with ‘the devil’s music’- seriously, where does the kid even come up with that shit? 

The ride back from Hellfire is made all the more painful, with Eddie in the passenger seat and Dustin mouthing off from the backseat. Steve’s being berated from all angles about being a ‘closeted metalhead’. It’s been a long day and Steve is so goddamn tired so he can be forgiven for finally snapping. 

“I only listen to that shit because it reminds me of you,” Steve remarked shutting them both up in an instant. 

Dustin is the quickest to recover. He leans forward, nudging Steve’s shoulder. 

“Careful dude, say stuff like that and Robin’ll get jealous. It sounds like you’re in love with Eddie.” 

“Shut the hell up, Henderson,” Steve snaps, too quickly, too defensively. 

That’s when Dustin realises he’s screwed up. Royally screwed up, because Steve being gay never entered the ballpark of his imagination and it made sense didn’t it? Kind of. The way Steve kept insisting he and Robin were platonic. He hadn’t gone on many dates since Eddie’s return from hospital. 

He tried to dredge up all the things he’d been planning to say when Will inevitably came out because that, Dustin saw coming. 

“Actually it’s cool if you are, you know, gay. We wouldn’t think of you any differently if you were. Right, Eddie?” Dustin desperately looks to Eddie, who’s gone full deer-in-the-headlights, wide-eyed. 

“I might think of him a little differently,” Eddie breathes, sounding a million miles away. Dustin looks at him like he’s about ready to kill a man and Steve’s gone pale. 

The rest of the drive is spent in awkward silence. Steve dreads the moment he arrives at the Henderson household, knowing the second Dustin leaves the car, things are going to get infinitely worse. 

“If I’ve screwed things up, just let me know because I don’t know where to go from here,” Steve says once they’re alone. He hears Eddie exhale and braces himself for the worst as he waits for the man to reply. 

“How about we start with one of those trademark, pickup lines I’ve heard so much about,” Eddie prompts. Steve is confused. It might be a common occurrence, but that doesn’t make it any better. 

“What?” Steve asks, not able to come up with something more articulate. 

“Is what Dustin said true?” There was no point in lying, was there? 

“Yes. No. Mostly. I’m not gay-,” To Steve’s surprise, he watches Eddie’s shoulders fall. If he didn’t know better he’d think the guy was disappointed. 

“But I do like guys. Not all guys. Some guys. Sometimes.” Steve’s rambling and he knows it. 

“Then I meant what I said, to Dustin.” And there it is, the thing Steve’s dreading. 

“Right. Yeah, okay. So do you still want me to drop you off at your place or should I just pull over now?” 

Steve tries to hold back the hurt in his tone because he hasn’t admitted it out loud to anyone yet and it sure as hell smarts to be so blatantly rejected. He might actually have preferred getting punched in the face, at least there was something finite about it. 

“Steve,” Eddie breathes and his voice is soft, gentle even. Which makes no damn sense. He sounds like Robin did, on the floor of the cinema bathroom: vulnerable and exasperated, but not mad. 

“Pull over.” So Steve does. 

Eddie sets a hand on Steve’s shoulder, looks him dead in the eyes and licks his lips. 

“Steve, I’m gay and very much in love with you. Up until tonight, I thought you were very straight and totally out of my league, so if you’re telling me I’ve got a shot, that changes shit.” Oh. Steve finally caught up. 

Steve turns down the volume of the music, just to make sure he’d heard Eddie right. Then leaned into the man’s space. 

“Ahoy there, sailor.” 

Much to his dismay, Eddie laughs- scratch that, he snorts, doubling over, trying to muffle the noise with a hand. 

“That was the pickup line?” Eddie clarifies. 

“I’m rusty and I’ve never used it on a guy,” Steve retorts defensively. 

Before he knows it, Eddie’s back in his space, his breath ghosting hot over Steve’s cheek. 

“Hey, I didn’t say it didn’t work.” 

[navybrat817]

Give Me One More

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You don't need Bucky. He's going to prove you wrong. Over and over and over...

Word Count: Over 3.7k

Warnings: DUBCON to be safe, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, masturbation, established and slightly toxic relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, family drama, betrayal, threats (not against reader), loose backstory, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit mean, okay?).

A/N: I spoke about prisoner!Bucky ages back and I couldn't let this go. Especially not when I'm looking at that beautiful edit by the more beautiful @nixakimbo! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own (but thanks to @whisperlullaby for discussing this man with me!). Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You pushed the curtain aside to look out the bedroom window, the clouds dark and thick in the sky. Your home used to be your safe haven, a place of comfort, and all you wanted to do now was escape from your prison of sorts. Not the kind of place your boyfriend, Bucky, spent time in. The bars that kept you in couldn't be seen by the naked eye.

“Can't stay in there all day,” Bucky said from the hall, his deep voice reminding you that you weren't alone.

You’d never be alone again.

“Yes, I can,” you called back. You had been in your bedroom for well over an hour since you snapped at him and left him alone in the living room. If staying in there meant avoiding him, you were fine with that.

You half expected him to stomp down the hall, but he only said, “You’re being a fucking brat.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. “Leave me alone, asshole!” You shouted, feeling every bit like the brat he said you were.

You weren’t sure what set you off today. It could've been because you were still angry that Bucky used you. How long did it take for an empire to fall? In your case, six months.

Half a year ago, Bucky Barnes bumped into you at your favorite coffee shop. Literally. He was large, built like a powerhouse, but his grip that kept you from falling was so gentle. One look in his cerulean eyes and you were a goner. He easily charmed his way into your life and bed. He treated you like a princess, better than any boyfriend before, and you naively believed it was fate that brought you together.

You should’ve known it wasn't the beginning of a happy new chapter in your story. It was a clock winding down to your doom. More specifically, your father’s doom. Because Bucky wanted to destroy the man who helped land him in jail.

The White Wolf, a nickname for Bucky you recently learned about, wasn't a good man. Far from it and far from being a reformed criminal. He took it personally that your dad got him put behind bars for a short time. So he tore his life apart. Took his job away. Urged his friends to abandon or turn on him. Got him put in jail. Bucky even rubbed it in his face that he fucked his daughter. All in six months.

It would almost be impressive if you weren't the one living with the aftermath.

Had your dad known exactly who you were seeing, he may have tried to stop you.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

What Bucky didn't plan on was falling for you or so he said. You were, apparently, his chance at happiness. Because of that, he wouldn't let you go. And he expected you to just forgive him and move forward.

How could you forgive him?

He promised he’d hunt you down if you tried to leave him. You naturally tried and didn't get very far. The sick part was how much you enjoyed him chasing after you and bringing you back. After he fucked you where he found you.

As if he read your mind, he called out, “I know you're frustrated. Bet if you sit on my cock you'll feel better.”

Your cheeks flamed, your panties damp. Damn him for still arousing you with so little words. “Go fuck yourself.”

That actually wasn't a bad idea. He was right. You were frustrated and itching to get out of your own skin. Maybe if you got yourself off, you’d feel a little better. Not happy, but better.

“I don't need him,” you said.

That was what you told yourself as you stripped down and got on the bed. But as you ran your hands along your breasts, gasping as you moved one hand lower, it didn't feel right. The normal fire within you didn't burn. Didn't even a flicker. A raw ache instead outweighed the pleasure you tried to give yourself.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

You heard Bucky’s dark chuckle from the doorway and made the mistake of looking his way. You weren't sure how long he'd been standing there, but his cock was free from the confines of his pants and he lost his shirt at some point, too. He didn't attempt to hide the array of scars and tattoos that littered his torso. Ones you traced with your fingers and tongue more times than you could count. Back when you weren't a pawn in his game.

But if you really were a pawn, why did he have your name tattooed over his chest?

“Looks like you need a hand,” he said, brushing back his long hair as his eyes moved along your body from head to toe.

You ignored your racing heart as you said through your teeth, “Go away.”

He tore your life apart like a tornado, leaving destruction where there was once calm and beauty. Instead of letting you pick up the pieces, he continued to wreck everything around you. He broke you, too, but you were also the only thing he put back together.

The smirk he gave you was one you used to adore. “What’s wrong, princess? Still mad at me?”

You scoffed. Was he serious? “Yes, I’m fucking mad at you.”

“Still mad about the past? Or is it because you can't get out of your own head long enough to make yourself come?” He taunted, slowly stroking his thick cock. “Did you ever actually get yourself off before me? Or did you not know what an orgasm was until I gave you one?”

You watched with a lustful gaze as his hand moved up and down, your eyes not leaving the sight as you desperately tried to get some sort of relief. “I had plenty before you showed up,” you hissed, sliding a finger into your tight hole.

“You know, all you have to do is admit that I'm right: That I've ruined you and all you can think about is how good it feels when I'm fucking you. Admit it and I’ll get you off.”

Pushing another finger inside yourself, you refused to admit that he was telling the truth. Nothing felt as good as he did. And that was the problem, wasn't it? You shouldn't want or need him. Not after everything he had done to your family.

He groaned as he watched your fingers sink in. “You're so pathetic laying there. My pretty little slut wants to prove the impossible. Just wants to prove that she doesn't need me when we both know that's a fucking lie,” he grunted as his cock twitched, making you clench in want despite your anger at his words. “Better hurry up and say it. Otherwise I'm going to come all over you and you're going to be left begging to come and not get off at all.”

You whined as a tear fell from your eye. “You're an asshole. The lowest of the low.”

He chuckled as he brushed his thumb along the tip, watching as your eyes followed the motion. “Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings and that's mean, princess. That isn't you. I'm the mean one in this relationship.”

Your fingers froze as you narrowed your eyes. “Relationship? Don't you mean your prisoner?”

Your breath caught in your throat when he smirked, something darker than before. “You think you're a prisoner? You have no fucking idea. I’ve been to prison. This is a fucking walk in the park,” he said, pouring more salt in the open wound when he added, “And your dad knows all about prison now, doesn't he?”

You choked on your next breath. “How dare-”

“Relationship, prisoner, my girl. You're still fucking mine,” he snarled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “And I'm still right. So just say it. Tell me you need my cock and I'll get you off. Fuck that pretty pussy so good you cry for me. Won't even make you apologize for repeatedly calling me an asshole.”

“I wish I never met you,” you blurted out.

Guilt churned in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. Why did you still care after what he did? Why did he matter to you? “You don't mean that,” he whispered before he blinked, ice in his gaze. “You’re just being a fucking brat.”

You let out a small scream of frustration when you removed your fingers and reached for your side drawer where you kept your vibrator. If Bucky was going to keep being an asshole who wouldn't get you off, your toy would. But he didn't let you get very far. Not when he was on you in a flash, throwing the toy far behind him and pinning your wrists above your head.

His breathing was almost as heavy as yours.

“Oh no, princess. You're so confident you can come without me then that must mean you don't need any help at all coming,” he smirked, gripping your wrists tighter as you squirmed beneath him. You didn't dare look down when his cock brushed against your skin. “It's cute that you think you're stronger than I am. That sexual frustration must really be fucking with your head. I can fix that.”

“You're fucking sick. I don't… I… I don't need you,” you said, not having to see your eyes to know your pupils were blown with lust. Your tongue darted out to lick bottom lip before your gaze settled on his, challenging. “You need me more than I need you. What was it you said? That I was the best pussy you ever had? And you’d be happy to keep your cock in me all day every day?”

“Just like my cock is the best you ever had.”

You opened your legs a bit more when he clenched his jaw. “And you don't want to finish on me. You want to be in me. If it were any other guy, he'd-”

He growled when he grabbed your chin. It was a reminder of just how strong he was and how he could hurt you if he wanted to. “There are no other guys. Do you fucking hear me?”

It was your turn to smirk. Bucky was a lot of things, but he never strayed. Not once. He would forever be faithful. “You sure about that? Maybe I can't relax right now, but if you won't fuck me I’m sure I can find someone who-”

He flipped you on your stomach and gripped the back of your neck before you could finish that statement. “If you think I wouldn’t kill any guy who touches you, you’re out of your fucking mind. Keep pushing me, sweetheart. See what happens.”

You bit back a moan at the gravel in his voice as you turned your head to the side, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. It was dangerous to poke the bear, but you were past the point of caring. Especially when fury looked beautiful on him. “What's wrong, Bucky? Don't like the taste of your own medicine?”

He leaned down, his breath harsh against your ear. “I prefer the taste of your pussy. Always so good for me. You wanna hear that I need you? Fine. I fucking need you,” he rasped, biting at your earlobe. “Happy?”

“And that you’re sorry?”

“For hurting you? Yes,” he whispered, nosing along your neck. “Never meant to hurt you.”

You shuddered, almost delirious from needing to come. And the fact that he admitted that he needed you. That he was sorry for hurting you. But you weren't ready to play nice. “I'll be happier when you finally decide to fuck me, but you're just a fucking asshole, aren't you?”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I'm a fucking asshole.” He nipped your earlobe roughly again in retaliation before settling between your legs and teasingly brushing the tip of his cock along your folds. “And I'll fuck you when you say you need me, too.”

You tried to push back to take him in, but he kept a firm hold on your hips. You tried to wiggle out of it, but it only brought you frustration as you groaned. “If you're really going to make me say it, don't hold your breath. You can't threaten me, Bucky. You're all talk. And guess what?” You said, smiling sweetly. “I can find another guy to fuck me better than you can.”

You couldn’t see the thunderous look in his eyes, but you heard the low and menacing chuckle in his throat. It sent chills down your spine. Maybe you pushed too far this time, but you didn’t care. He deserved it and worse.

“You're trying to piss me off and I want you to remember that you pushed me to this,” he said more to himself than you before sheathing you in one hard thrust, your mouth falling open in a cry at his sudden intrusion. “Hope you enjoy the bed since you won't even be able to walk out of this room.”

You stared at the wall, your eyes unseeing as Bucky tore you apart. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. The sound of his grunts from behind you filled your ears, along with the brutal slap of skin-on-skin. Your body burned, the overwhelming stretch from his cock making you lose sense of yourself. You told yourself he’d finish fucking you soon, but that felt like ages ago.

You also told yourself there was no way you’d have another orgasm, but he proved you wrong. Climax after climax, your release practically flooded around him. At this rate, you really wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

“Bucky,” you gasped, trying to grip the sheets for purchase as he pulled out and slammed back into you. “Please…”

You were boneless, exhausted, and he just kept going. “Oh, no, princess. You wanted to get off.”

Tears of ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, whimpering when you felt yourself on the cusp of another orgasm. How was that possible? How many had he given you? “Bucky, I…” you moaned as you clenched around his cock again.

He cooed, a taunting sound when you choked on a sob. “So good, but I want another.”

“I don't… ” Your eyes rolled back, your head spinning. “I can't.”

You’d seriously lost count at that point how many times you’d come. And your whimper didn't stop Bucky from mockingly cooing again. “Aww, you don't think you can? My poor little fuck doll can still talk which means she hasn't had enough yet. This pussy is so fucking wet for me, so swollen,” he taunted, reaching underneath you and flicking your overstimulated clit as a choked moan escaped you, your walls tightening around him once again. “See? Your greedy little cunt can't get enough of me.”

Why did your body need him so badly? “I can't…” you whined as he licked one of your tears away, seemingly unbothered by the sheen of sweat on your face.

“You think anyone else can do this? Work your body up like this over and over again?” He grunted against your cheek. Your eyes squeezed shut at his harsh panting, his pace not slowing. “All you had to do was say that you need me. But no. You just had to be a fucking brat.”

You practically wailed as you teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “I-I need you. Just you, Bucky,” you said. At least, you thought you said it. You had a tough time stringing any thoughts together with his cock splitting you open.

But his thrusts don’t slow. They were just as relentless as before. “Oh, no. You had your chance to say it,” he snarled, leaning up to pull your hips back against his. “And my pussy is telling me all I need to know. So just lay there and give me another.”

The pleasure bordered on the edge of pain as a sob escaped. There was no possible way you could come again. As much as you thought you couldn’t take it, your body tensed. You still craved him and wanted to give him one more. So you did. You shattered. It was almost too easy that he managed to pull another orgasm from your pliable body.

Or maybe you were just easy for him.

Bucky smacked your ass hard enough to make you cry out, his hand kneading the flesh with a delighted groan. “Fuck, each one is better than the last, princess. You want me to fill you up huh? You wanna feel me dripping from you?” He chuckled darkly, finally slowing down as you let out another sob. He shushed you before he put a hand on the back of your neck and kept you down. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’re gonna take it. Then, I'm gonna lick you clean until I'm satisfied.”

“No…”

He gave you one more smack for good measure when you made a sound of protest. “C'mon, princess. Beg for me to fill you up. If you can talk.”

You didn’t know if you could. You were practically a drooling mess as he drove in as deep as he can go. “Pl… Pl… Bu…” you tried to moan, another tear falling as he shushed you again.

“Got you cockdrunk, didn't I? Need to be pumped full? Then let me give you every. Fucking. Drop.”

A tired moan came out when he filled you up, giving a few slow thrusts as he finished. Your body trembled beneath him, a whiplash of chills and heat. You barely registered him pulling out before he flipped you onto your back. Glassy and unfocused eyes. Makeup smeared all your face. Tears stains on your cheeks. You must’ve looked quite the sight.

He relished in ruining you.

And the beautiful bastard didn’t even look like he broke a sweat.

“Should I call you a dog? You’re drooling, princess,” he smirked. You didn’t have it in you to argue as his eyes drifted down to your pussy. It was still twitching and leaking with your mixed release. He licked his lips as he slid down your body more to fully take in the sight. “And you look good enough to eat, so I think that's just what I'll do.”

“What…” you gasped. He couldn't. Not after all that.

You whimpered as you tried to push him away with a tired hand, but he grabbed your wrists with a tsk. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You keep your hands to yourself. I told you I wasn't done with you and it's rude to keep a man from his meal.”

You were still floating from the multiple orgasms he gave you when he took his first lick. Your shivers picked up again and he groaned at your taste before diving in. Any strength you had to try to push him away depleted immediately, even with how sensitive your walls felt. You couldn't stop him.

You’d never be able to stop him.

After a minute, your eyes widened when you felt him build you up again. “No,” you moaned, but the sight of him between your legs, eating you like he was starving, was too much.

He just hummed against you. "Give. Me. One. More.”

Your back arched when his lips latched onto your clit, forcing the orgasm from your worn out body. You weren’t sure if you made a sound, but you trembled as your release went on for what seemed like forever. Bucky’s tongue lapped it all up, humming before he sat back and looked at your wrecked form again. He made a show of licking the shine from his lips and looked just as proud as ruining you with his tongue the way he did with his cock.

“If you ever try to threaten me with another man or refuse to admit you want me again, I'll make sure to tie you to this bed for a week and refuse to let you come even if you beg for it. And I shouldn’t have to mention what else I can do. Do you understand?”

You trembled, knowing exactly what Bucky was capable of. While he never laid a hand on you to inflict pain, you knew the damage he did to others. Like the bodies buried and cold in the ground because of him. Not to mention the connections he still had at the prison. All he had to do was say the word and that would be the true end of your dad.

With unfocused and teary eyes, you gave him a nod. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered.

“Now tell me you love me and that you’re sorry,” he ordered.

A tear slid from the corner of your eye. “…Love you. I’m sorry.”

His smile was tender and for a second you forgot about everything else. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, your heart betraying you like your body did when he kissed your lips. “And I love you, too.”

You whined as he left your line of sight, but he came back almost right away to sit beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. “Drink it, princess,” he urged, his voice gentler than before he helped you take a sip of water. He even smiled again when he wiped another tear of yours away. “We can go back to the way it was before, you know. When you were blissfully unaware and we just quickly fell in love.”

The pain in your heart came and went as your breathing evened. You wished you could go back to innocent movie nights and meals. To waking up beside him with a smile on your face. To making love so passionate that you believed you were made for each other. There was no changing anything or going back. You could only move forward with him by your side.

Bucky sighed when you didn't say anything. “I know I’m a piece of shit, but I won't stop loving you. And I think you learned your lesson.”

You blinked a little as you took another sip, on the verge of passing out.

“You’re mine and I’m never letting you go,” he whispered, brushing the gentlest of kisses against the top of your head. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”

So... I know he isn't all good, but I had fun writing this and I hope you lovelies enjoyed it! Would love to hear your thoughts and maybe I'll expand on this? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ wing damage, chapter one (mv1)

Eldest of the Halliwell girls, Y/n (or Nadine) gets her heart broken by the man she’s supposed to wed in six months. Four years of love slipping down the drain faster than she can try and grasp at the remaining water droplets.

But... not all hope is lost as far as the f1 community is concerned and they might be right, since Max seems to be trying to get a little closer to his team owners eldest daughter.

max verstappen x influencer!halliwell!reader / fc: sophia la corte (and various ginger women on pinterest.)

warnings & notes: cheating, mentions of alcohol, small age gap (24-27), strong language, probably inaccurate f1 information, using a name as a placeholder for y/n bc i’m not typing that every time, dates are off by two days in the beginning. deal.

EDIT: I love nadine too much to scrap her story even tho christians a BITCH, so for all intents and purposes in this fic, congrats! a spice girl now owns oracle red bull racing 😭

(part two!)

“Do you want me to confront him?” Max asks, sitting down next to me in the paddock. His hand comes to squeeze my knee, my father rubbing my back as he deletes every photo—every memory of Jacob Taylor from my phone.

Four years down the drain.

My friends back home at my apartment are currently bagging up his stuff. Both Mona and Ally will move in with me, just like college again, once his stuff is empty. My bare apartment will soon be filled with our old nick nacks but i can hardly be happy about it.

Cheated.

The man who spent 50k on an emerald cut four karat ring with a real gold band, cheated? The man who cried when his mom told him she loved me, cheated? The man who cancelled an entire film set because it conflicted with my schedule, cheated? The man who won over the hearts of not only Geri Horner, but Christian Horner? He was the one who cheated?

Jacob was (strong emphasis on the was) the highest standard I ever held. Now, I didn’t even know what standards to have anymore. Anyone could be a cheater. I never stood a chance.

“It’s fine, Max.” I say softly, wiping at my face again to try and make it look less like I’ve been sobbing since I found out as soon as the plane touched down two days ago. The paddock is buzzing, qualifiers getting ready to start for the first GP. The warm Bahraini sun beats down on the track and I can see the heat wiggling above it. Even in March it’s as hot as summer over here, and part of me misses the gloomy, smoggy streets of London right now.

“It’s not fine!” Max groans at me, throwing his head back in exclamation. I know he’s sick and tired of hearing me say it for the thousandth time, but if I say it’s not fine, I’ll break down. And we can’t have that.

“Max,” GP's voice calls before Max can go on another tirade about killing Jacob. Max turns and I can see the hesitance in him to leave my side. He’s been like this since I met him the first day he raced with Red Bull years back—instantly the two of us clicked. When the days got hard, or his dad got on his back a bit too much, I would appear by his side and with a tiny smile somehow I'd fix everything. After I became his sort of 'chauffeur' when one of our drivers got sick in Abu Dhabi his first year, and we got stuck in an hour of traffic with nothing to do but talk, we became basically glued to each others sides.

I think having my unwavering support made a lot of the transition into Red Bull easier for him. And in moments like these, where he's watching me with a keen eye, I don’t know how I lived so long without his calm presence at my side. I was only a five years old when my Mom bought Red Bull Racing, it’s been my entire life, and every racer who has passed through our team has never stuck to my side like Max Verstappen has.

“Go.” I nudge his knee when I see his hand twitch and hover by his helmet, eyes darting to me and then GP who waits in the doorway, so I supply, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Max nods, giving me a departing hug before he gets up and starts tugging his racing suit on. Immediately my mother replaces him, turning my head to card his hands through my hair.

“Oh, honey.” Geri coos, squeezing my arms as she lets me lean into her, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, Mama.” I sigh, leaning into him and letting his wrap his arms tight around me.

“No, I trusted that boy. That’s what I did wrong.” She says back, before handing me back my phone. We sit like that for a long time, people passing us without asking. Everyone knew. I had found out the same way they all did—on social media. Jacob didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. Fucking coward.

Eventually someone calls my mother away for some celebrity, sp I force myself to sulk off to a hidden corner where I can munch on chocolates and watch Max from a little tv. Not as good as my usual perch next to my Mom, but I don’t need the public seeing me the day I find out my fiancé of several years had been cheating almost the whole time. With his co-star.

Fucking hell.

nadinehalliwell

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, and 124k others...

nadinehalliwell: before and after max won

tagged: bbhalliwell

gerihalliwell: love u lots mini ginger spice!!!!

⤷ nadinehalliwell: mama ill cry </3

charlesleclerc: maman says hello and that she will have wine for you when you come to monaco

⤷ arthurleclec: nadine you are very beautiful do not let a man win -- maman

⤷ thenadinehorner: OMGGGG <3<3<3 XOXO MAMAN JE VOUS AIME TELLEMENT

bbhalliwell: bahrain was NOT ready for the halliwell girls !!

maxverstappen: you and your sister together is recipe for disaster

⤷ danielricciardo: bet they're planning ur downfall.

⤷ nadinehalliwell: beware both of u 🔪

I knew returning home to my apartment was going to be hard. I had spent a few days with my mom and Bluebell home in Nottingham.

Being in my mothers had been refreshing enough to start and heal my heart. I also learned that my mom was really fucking good at healing, it involved a lot of wine and a lot of cursing.

My apartment in Monaco had been a home full of happy memories of moving in with Jacob, and our time living together everyday I wasn’t at grand prixs and he wasn’t on set. Memories of our families and friends together with us, and now it would be just me.

So empty. Alone. White walls with no decorations anymore. Just staring at me, closing in slowly.

Opening the door I sucked in a breath of pure agony. My mother's warm hand around my shoulder a soft reminder that even if I felt abandoned, I wasn’t alone. Not by a long shot. And as the door clicks open, my hand finds the lights instinctually, and my eyes widen to dinner plates.

“Welcome home!” a chorus cheers and I laugh, all my of old friends circled around the end of the foyers hallway, wine glasses and soju bottles in hand. I can’t even speak as tears fill my eyes and the girls run to me, waving my mother off. She kisses my hairline, tells me she'll text me when she gets home, and shuts the door as my friends cart me into the kitchen and wipe my tears and fix up my messy hair with giggles.

“Tonight!” One of my friends—eventually I source the drunken giggles to Ally, “we will make you so hot and sexy, he will regret it.”

“And if he comes crawling back!” It’s Mona now.

“We will rip his dick off!” Marija shouts and the girls raise shots to me.

“Guys—what is all of this?” I can’t help but laugh, and then the three look at each other and smile.

“So… you’ve heard of a revenge dress, right?” Ally says slowly, and it all clicks.

nadinehalliwell

liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc, christianhorner and 976k others..

nadinehalliwell: ‘little black dress, who you doin it for?’ 🖤

tagged: monanotlisa, allycameragirl, marijaswrld

maxverstappen: Is this that ‘hot girl era’ thing?

⤷ charlesleclerc: i think so.

monanotlisa: absolutely sexy. as per usual.

allycameragirl: FUCKKK UR HOT 🖤🖤

landonorris: one direction???

⤷ nadinehalliwell: ofc you know it’s one direction.

⤷ landonorris: cannot tell if this is a compliment or not but thanks ?

marijaswrld: 🧎‍♀️ < me

[soloroomies]

You, Across The Street | (a Suna Rintarou fic)

・❥・Chapter two; Year Five (A Treehouse)

synopsis: At the age of five, you met the neighbor boy who lived just across the street, Suna Rintarou. As the years unfold, this story will chronicle the evolution of your friendship, year by year. But as life moves on and paths diverge, will it blossom into something more? Or will it remain a cherished bond between two childhood friends? “The lines between friendship and love often blur when you’ve known someone your entire life."

word count. 3.6k cw. childhood friends au, slow burn, coming of age, puberty stuff a/n. quick update on chapter two 🤭 I actually finished writing it yesterday; it just needs a bit more editing! But I haven’t started anything on the next chapter yet, so it will take longer for the next update🥲

Masterlist

You walked into your house with Rintarou right on your heels. Your mother had just headed out for a field trip at the local park with the preschool, where both your little sister Hana and Rintarou’s little sister, Kimiko, were.

Hana and Kimiko were born in the same year, not long after you moved in, and you couldn't have been happier. They became designated friends in everything, like you and Rintarou. Yuuko, Rintarou’s mother, was like a second mother to you, and your mother was the same for the Suna kids. They often stepped in for each other at school events when the other couldn’t come. Like today’s field trip, Yuuko was stuck at work, so your mother had stepped in to chaperone Kimiko and keep an eye on her.

"Let's work on the math homework first," Rintarou suggested, plopping down beside you at the coffee table in the living room and pulling out his exercise book.

"Okay! But wait! I want to grab some snacks first. Do you want something?" you asked, getting up.

"Still got those cheese sticks? I like those."

You thought for a moment. "Oh yeah! We still have them. I'll grab some."

"Want me to help?"

"Nah, you’re no taller than me. I can reach that top drawer myself," you said, sticking out your tongue as you walked into the kitchen.

"Well, I’m taller than you, you dummy. And I’ll definitely be waay taller than you," Rintarou retorted, rolling his eyes. It was true; he was a bit taller than you, but you often tiptoed whenever he tried to compare his height to yours. What a cheater.

Now that you were in fourth grade, it was kind of funny to think about how Rintarou once saw you as a strange object back in preschool. He had come to see you as a true friend. It wasn’t just because you both spent so much time together, but because he genuinely enjoyed your company.

You both dove into your math homework, tackling each question together.

“Like this, Rin. You can write the calculation while you read the question,” you explained, scribbling beside the problem and translating the mathematical operation from the sentence. He gave it a shot, double-checking with you, and you gave him the thumbs-up.

“This is the formula for the perimeter and area,” you noted, rounding off the writing in your notebook.

Rintarou really relied on you for academic things. You weren’t the type to bury yourself in books, but you got things fast and really liked helping others figure stuff out. It motivated you to study more, you said. So basically, Rintarou was like your pupil when it came to homework or study sessions.

After finishing the homework, you both relaxed on the couch, watching TV shows and snacking.

“Rin, you really should teach me how to play volleyball,” you said, munching on snacks.

“Okay. But you’re such a bummer, ___.” He kept his eyes glued to the TV, not sparing you a glance.

“Hey! Shut up. It was my first time playing outside of PE class!” You tried to kick his leg, but he kept pushing your body away from him.

“No, it’s not. Don’t try to lie to me.”

Well, you were in fact lying to him. Remember that time you tried to play volleyball with Rintarou? Yeah, it was a disaster. Honestly, you were scared of making a fool of yourself, and guess what? You did. You kept messing up—missing basic moves and having the ball go all over the place. Sometimes it even hit the net, and other times it went flying out of bounds.

Why were you so freaked out about embarrassing yourself? Because Rintarou was very splendid at it. He flaunted his skills last time you played with him. Matter of fact, the PE teacher in your school even recommended him to join the local volleyball club for children. You tried to be at least half as good as him, but it was still tough. You used to play all sorts of sports together when you were younger, but as you both got older, the gap in your skills just grew bigger, which annoyed you greatly. It sucked!

“If you want to do a sport, I think karate or judo would suit you better,” Rintarou suggested, trying to offer a truce.

You raised your eyebrows at him, pausing your attempts to kick him. “Why?”

“I don’t know. But you like to pick fights with those boys,” he shrugged, grabbing a cheese stick from the table now that you’re calmer.

“Rin! Can’t you see that they’re so annoying? Especially Yuto!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, I know,” Rintarou said, taking a bite of the cheese stick. “But karate’s cool, though. You could really kick their butts then.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he lazily poked the cheese stick at your face. “And Yuto likes you, stupid,” he added, his smirk widening into a teasing grin.

“Ew! Don’t do that.” You shoved Rintarou's hand away.

“And no, he doesn’t like me. He’s just annoying.”

Rintarou shrugged, barely looking at you. “That's what boys do when they like a girl.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What? That’s dumb. Why would you annoy someone if you like them?”

“Dunno. Boys are weird,” he said, waving his hand like it was no big deal.

“You're a boy, dummy!” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

“Yeah, but I’m one of the not-weird ones,” Rintarou replied, turning to you with a little smirk.

You made your best disgusted face, scrunching your nose and rolling your eyes dramatically.

Just then, the door swung open, revealing your mother and the little sisters. Hana and Kimiko burst through, practically bouncing with excitement, their eyes sparkling with pride as they showed off their painted drawing to you and Rintarou.

“This is from yellow and blue paint to make green!” Hana exclaimed, pointing enthusiastically with her chubby finger to a vibrant spot on the canvas.

“And this is purple from blue and red!” Kimiko added, pointing to a different area with equal excitement.

“Woah! This is so cool! Right, Rin?” you commented exaggeratedly, nudging Rintarou gently with your elbow.

Rintarou's brows furrowed slightly as he studied the painting. You couldn’t actually make out any drawings there. It was a four-year-old's drawing, anyway. His lips twitched, almost forming a smile before he managed to compose himself. “Wow, that’s, uh, really something,” he responded, with suppressed laughter.

Hana and Kimiko, however, looked satisfied with both your reactions, their smiles widening as they continued to admire their artwork with excited chatter.

“Hey, your hands are still covered in paint,” Rintarou said. “Why don’t you wash up first?”

The little girls exchanged a glance, ready to protest, but Rintarou was already on his feet, guiding them to the sink. He helped them up onto a chair so they could reach the faucet and carefully showed them how to scrub the paint off their hands.

“Thank you, Rin!” your mother said as she walked out from her room after changing clothes.

“No problem.” Rintarou said after he finished helping them, plopping down beside you again.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“Hey,” you felt a tap on your shoulder from behind.

You turned around to see Emi and Osuke, the seatmates sitting behind you who had also become your good friends, both grinning mischievously. This kind of expression usually meant that Emi, the mastermind of your adventures, had found a new spot to explore. Rintarou looked at them too, curious.

“We found this super cool place and we gotta show you after school!” Osuke said, practically bouncing with excitement.

You were sold instantly. “Awesome! What’s the big surprise?”

“It’s a treehouse!” Emi announced, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Your jaw dropped, and a huge grin spread across your face. You looked at Rintarou, who seemed pretty chill about it, and gave him a little nudge. “Come on, Rin! This is gonna be so much fun!” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a hopeful tug.

Rintarou was silent for a second. “Okay. But don’t forget to tell your mama first.”

You nodded enthusiastically.

The moment the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, having already tidied your desk. Rintarou was moving like a tortoise, so you zipped over and helped him stuff his stuff into his bag.

You and Rintarou walked to where you parked your bike and pedaled your way home in a hurry, having promised Emi and Osuke that you’ll meet them in front of the minimart near the school no longer than 30 minutes.

As you burst into the house, you quickly stripped off your school uniform and changed into a comfy t-shirt and shorts. You dashed around, looking for your mother. “Maa, where are you?” you called out, a mix of impatience and excitement in your voice.

Your mother emerged from the bathroom, her expression turning into a frown as she took in your disheveled appearance. Her eyebrows knit together as she approached you.

“Ma, can I please play with my friends?” you asked, your hands clasped together in a hopeful gesture.

Your mother crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “Where?”

“Just, you know, that park near school,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Will Rintarou come too?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

You nodded vigorously. “Yes, he will!”

“Okay. I don’t want something like last time to happen again,” she began, her voice rising in frustration. She placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward, her gaze piercing. “I told you to come home before it gets dark, but you didn’t listen. Do you know how dangerous that can be?”

You shifted from foot to foot, looking down and fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration.

Last time, you played outside with Emi only. Rintarou had volleyball practice, and Osuke was busy with his big sister. You got so wrapped up in tossing pebbles into the lake and feeding the geese that you didn’t notice the sun had set on the horizon. Covered in dirt, you knew your mother would flip if she saw you like this, so you stopped by Emi’s to clean up and borrow one of her shirts.

By the time you finished, it was pitch black outside. Emi’s place was close, but you’d never biked home alone this late before. Too scared to call your mother (because she’d definitely lose it), you called Rintarou’s home instead. Thankfully, it was him who picked up the call. Quickly saying that he’d come get you after you told him your situation. 

When he arrived, Rintarou shook his head at you. “You brat,” he teased, messing up your hair. You wanted to argue but knew you were in the wrong, so you just sighed in resignation.

When you finally got home, your mother was standing in the doorway. She thanked Rintarou and then immediately started scolding you, expressing her disappointment in you for not heeding her words. It was the only time you had played outside without Rintarou, and you had already been irresponsible.

Thankfully, Rintarou was available today. Otherwise, your mother wouldn’t have allowed you to go out again, which meant missing the treehouse Emi had found. Bummer.

Rintarou knocked on your door, already changed into his casual clothes. You opened it with a smile. “Hey! Let me just say goodbye to Mama,” you said briefly before heading to the kitchen, where you heard the clinking of dishes.

“Ma, I’m going!”

She nodded. “I’m going shopping later with your papa and sister. If I’m not back when you return, just head over to Rin’s house.”

“Okay, got it! I’ll see you later,” you called out before turning back to Rintarou. “All set! Let’s go.”

Quickly, you got on your bike and rode to the minimart with him.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The place turned out to be quite far from your house. You’d totally fibbed to your mom saying it was near—truth is, you didn’t even know where it was when you asked her if you could go.

It was a forested park, a few blocks from your school, in a neighborhood that didn’t get much traffic. Emi always had the scoop on cool spots because her big brother had been all over town exploring. The park was not abandoned, but it seemed like not a lot of people visited there. Perhaps because there were not that many children living in the area.

A large field greeted you at the entrance, likely used for playing sports. Beyond the field, the forested area came into view. And there it was, nestled among the trees, stood a giant treehouse.

As you got closer, you spotted wooden steps nailed to the tree trunk.

Rintarou eyed them and asked Emi, “You sure this is safe?”

Emi grinned, “Totally! My brother used to come here all the time. Come on, let’s climb!” Without missing a beat, she started up the steps.

“I’m next!” Osuke shouted, lining up behind Emi, who was already a few steps up.

You looked at Rintarou, silently asking if he wanted to go first.

“You go first,” Rintarou said with a smirk.

“Alright, but don’t wimp out!” you shot back.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

The climb was easy, and the wooden steps proved sturdy enough to hold your weight.

As you entered the treehouse, you noted that it was quite spacious, more so than you had imagined. The windows, devoid of glass, were wide, panoramic openings that spanned nearly the entire side of the treehouse facing the town. It was perched high enough to offer a new perspective, and your breath was taken away by the stunning view.

Rintarou gently pulled you back from the edge, not fully trusting the wooden walls.

You were too busy soaking in the view to notice.

From this vantage point, everything looked different—familiar streets and buildings took on a new charm. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, gentle shadows that added depth and contrast to the scenery below. You could see the rooftops of houses, some with tiled designs and others more modern. The streets were lined with trees, leaves rustling in the breeze, and you could hear the distant hum of everyday life mixed with birds chirping. It was magical.

You didn’t realize you were staring with your mouth open until Osuke shouted, “This is so cool!”

You turned to see Rintarou staring at the wide window, his hand still clinging to your arm from his earlier worry about your hasty step. Nudging him, you asked, “Cool, right?”

He looked at you, nodded, and mumbled, “Yeah, pretty cool.”

“See! I told you you’d like it!” you said, giving him a triumphant grin.

You started exploring the treehouse, checking out the names scribbled on the walls. You were in awe; each inscription was a testament to the kids who had once played here before you. Some names were faded and nearly illegible, with dates stretching back a decade or more. Just then, Emi pulled something from her bag—a dagger.

“Emi! How’d you get that?” Osuke asked, looking scandalized.

“I snuck it out,” Emi said with a proud smirk.

“Smart move, Emi! A marker or pen would’ve washed out eventually!” you chimed in.

You heard Rintarou tsk behind you, but you just stuck out your tongue at him.

Emi started carving your names into the wooden wall, and you and Osuke added some fun doodles. Rintarou, though reluctant, was forced to contribute. He carved the year under your names.

You traced your fingers over the carved lines, measuring the depth of the carving. A smile crept across your face as you confirmed it was deep enough. How cool it would be if, years from now, your names were still here—a little piece of your childhood preserved forever.

(When you came back years later, the carvings were still there, as vivid as the day you first made them.)

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You were at first reluctant when Rintarou told you to go home, insisting you wanted to watch the sunset there.

“But I want to watch the sunset!” you whined.

Rintarou crossed his arms. “If you don’t come down, I’ll never play with you again.”

You huffed, giving in. “Fine, but you’re no fun.” You climbed down from the treehouse, feeling the itchiness from the dust on your clothes.

“Your clothes are all dirty,” Rintarou pointed out, wrinkling his nose.

“I know,” you said, scratching your arm. “This dust is making me itchy.”

“Let’s go home before it gets worse,” he said, starting to walk.

You sighed and followed him, glancing back at the treehouse one last time. “You owe me for this.”

Rintarou rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you an ice cream or something.”

“You better!” you replied, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he teased, walking faster.

“Hey, wait up!” you called, running to catch up with him to reach your bike.

When you arrived in front of your house, you noticed the lights were still dimmed. Then, you remembered your mother saying that she would be out with your father and sister.

“Rin!” you shouted, running to Rintarou's front door.

He turned around, confused. “What?”

“I forgot. Mama said everyone’s going out. I’ll stay with you until they get back.”

Rintarou shrugged. “Okay, cool.” He unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “Looks like no one’s home here either.”

You followed him to his room, scratching at your dusty clothes. “Rin, can I borrow some clothes? This is so itchy!”

“Yeah, hold on.” He dug through his drawer, then turned to you. “Don’t sit on my bed, okay? We’re all dirty.” 

You snorted. “Duh, I’m not that dumb!”

He threw a black shirt and pants at you, along with a fresh towel.

“Just making sure,” he teased.

“You can use the shower here,” he said, pointing to the bathroom in his room. “I’ll use the one upstairs.”

“Thanks, Rin,” you said, heading to the bathroom. “You’re a lifesaver!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin, heading out the door. “Just don’t use all the hot water!”

You nodded and walked into the bathroom, eager to clean your itchy body.

As you rubbed your body with soap, you found yourself trying to recall the last time you weren’t embarrassed to be naked in front of Rintarou. Was it, like, two years ago? You hadn’t showered together since you were little, but you remembered a time when it didn’t bother you how much skin you showed him. Changing clothes in front of him used to feel completely normal.

Now, though, you couldn’t even think about being shirtless around him. Your embarrassment had grown as your body was… changing. Your mother had explained puberty to you, describing how your body would transform into that of an adult’s. You would start to resemble her and other grown women. She said you’d learn more about it in school soon, but you’d already noticed some of the changes yourself.

You started to grow breasts and there was hair in new places. Truthfully, you were super embarrassed about it. And also kind of annoyed. Why did your body have to change? Your breasts sometimes felt tender and uncomfortable. You felt like you had to cover up more. Why couldn’t you be like Rintarou? Not having to grow breasts!

And then there was the whole period thing your mother mentioned. Blood coming from down there? What?! You really hoped it would be a long time before you reached that phase.

After you dried off and put on the clothes Rintarou gave you, you walked out of the bathroom and saw him sprawled out on his bed, totally absorbed in his console games. You gave him a nudge to make some space and lay beside him.

“Hey, Rin,” you called out.

“Hm?” he grunted, eyes glued to his game.

Without warning, you pinched his chest.

“Hey! What was that for?” He stared at you, totally confused.

“Did that hurt?”

He glared at you. “What do you think? You just pinched me!”

“Well, do you feel anything there when I’m not pinching you?”

Frowning, he replied, “No?”

You sighed. “Boys' puberty is different, then. I thought your chest would feel weird or something, even if it’s not growing.”

Rintarou’s brow furrowed deeper, and his eyes squinted in confusion, as if trying to make sense of the nonsensical words he had just heard.

"Your…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "Your chest hurts or something?"

You shook your head. “Not exactly ‘hurt,’ more like it sometimes feels like it’s throbbing or tightening, you know?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking both curious and a little concerned. “Throbbing and tightening? That sounds kinda weird.”

You shrugged, a hint of frustration in your voice. "Urgh, nevermind," you muttered, waving off the topic.

You leaned into him, watching him play, and asked if you could have a turn when he was done.

You two played together until you heard Yuuko and Kimiko in the living room. Realizing your family might be home, you quickly got up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Rintarou asked, sitting up.

“Where else? It’s late, and Mama’s gonna freak out,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Alright, alright, now shoo," he said, waving you off and flopping back onto his bed.

You shot him a glare and pinched his stomach, making him groan. He was about to retaliate, but you quickly locked both his hands together. He might be a whiz at sports, but you were still stronger. You laughed and hurriedly ran out of his room. He chased you but stopped when he saw his mother. You waved goodbye to Yuuko and Kimiko, giving Rintarou one last smirk before shutting the door behind you.

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @gojoscumslut, @boogiemansbitch

[anogete]

Hi. Update of random shit in case anyone cares.

The scary test I was stressed over in the fall when I was posting my last fic? It was the CFP (Certified Financial Planner) exam. Yes, I passed it. The designation requires a bachelor's degree, so I had to go back to school to finish my last 10 classes. Then I had to take 7 more classes that are pre-reqs for the exam. Then I spent probably 700 hours attempting to cram everything you could think of related to personal finance (my god, there is a metric shit ton) into my head. The designation also requires 5,000 hours of experience in the planning field (which I thankfully already had). By the time I passed the test, I was no longer proud of the accomplishment, just relieved to have it behind me.

Work was intensely busy in November and December. I got little reading and no writing done.

I have a WIP featuring the Darcy/Rumlow pairing that has been languishing on my computer since 2020. To be honest, I've mosty forgotten what the conflict driving the plot was going to be. I think I was trying to tie it into the events of Wandavision. Took place after the show and had Monica Rambeau and Darcy kinda sorta working together and trying to figure out what, if anything, crossing the barrier that Wanda had thrown up did to them. Of course, Rumlow is alive and scarred and back with the good guys. And also really annoyed that his recent gunshot wound stuck him on desk duty watching the nerds complete their physicals as part of employee onboarding. Darcy doesn't want to have gym class with Rumlow, and Rumlow doesn't want to be there either but he's also kinda into the sassy brunette who tried to sweet talk him into passing her without making her run a mile. In the chapter or two I did write, the banter between Darcy and Rumlow was so fun, so I'd love to go back to it and try to move it along.

I got sucked into reading Draco/Hermione fanfic recently. Blame those damn Snow edits from the latest Hunger Games movie. Guys, I have never read those books or seen the movies, but blonde Tom Blyth is looking like the fanfic Draco of my dreams. How dare. This rabbit hole led to me deciding I needed to write a Dramione piece. It's maybe 6 pages and has gone nowhere even though I have a vague idea of the plot. My muse is struggling.

I found my old folder of all the fic I wrote in the past 20 years. There are still a couple hockey fics I haven't posted to AO3. There are also Anita Blake fics (I was a hardcore Anita/Edward girlie) and Harry Potter fics (don't cancel me but I used to write Snape/Hermione; NO student/teacher stuff though). I think I have an old Doctor Who fic featuring Nine/Rose (yes, I'm a Nine girlie). And a very old Forgotten Realms fic that paired Catti-Brie up with Jarlaxle. Look, I don't know. It was ages ago. With the exception of the hockey fics, I do not think any of these are of the same quality I've posted on AO3, but I've been toying with the idea of trying to clean them up and posting them so more of my work is archived together instead of spread over various fan sites. Does anyone have any interest at all in reading this shit? Like, at all?

I decided 2024 is going to be my book binding era. I bound isthisselfcare's Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love a couple weeks ago. I did all the typesetting with the help of some macros. Printed it, folded the signatures (the booklets that comprise the book), sewed them together with waxed linen thread, glued the text block together with some mull, and used chip board and book cloth to make the case. It feels and looks like a book, y'all! I could do a better job with lining the signatures up when punching the holes for sewing and with the measurements on the case, but overall I am pretty proud of it. If anyone is interested, I can link a nice tutorial series on TT and/or post progress pictures I took during my book binding experiment. I have to say, it's exciting to have the ability to put my fav fanfics on my physical bookshelf.

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 10: The Pain of Morality

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @welcometostayingawake

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary:

You and Steven agree to meet after class in his office. Things get a little out of hand.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu, talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded, minor mentions of alcohol addiction and depression.

Word Count: 4.4k

Steven: For the record I wish I could buy you a coffee for class.

Steven: Do you think someone would think that was weird?

Steven: I’m just gonna do it.

Steven: If anyone says anything we can just make something up.

Steven: Nevermind please ignore me. S’probably not a good idea.

You smiled down at your phone while you imagined the mental back and forth Steven must’ve done in the morning while trying to decide whether or not he should get you a coffee. Despite the fact that he couldn’t get it for you, your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of his texts. You wondered how often Steven was thinking about you. One thing was for sure, you were always thinking about him.

You: Don’t stress about it. See you in a bit!

You: <3

Steven: Meet in my office after class? Forget your knickers. Can you wear that skirt I like? :) <3

You sent him a thumbs up before finally getting all your things together and heading out the door. A love-struck smile took over your face while you walked to the lecture building. You had a skip in your step, unable to stop thinking about Steven and the weekend you’d spent together. You wondered when the next time you’d be able to get alone time with him again. Not only were you plagued by the nagging need between your legs, you also just wanted to be in his presence without a care of who might see you.

You’d worn the skirt he’d asked you to wear, despite the chill in the air. Not wearing any panties to class was also a little bold, but you meant it when you told Steven you’d do anything for him. You felt so connected, like nothing else mattered to you. All you wanted was to be around him as much as possible, and give him anything you could to make him look at you with that gaze of longing you craved.

“So we’re clear?” Marc asked, looking at Steven through the reflection of his paperweight.

“I’m gettin’ so tired of having to tell you the same thing over and over mate. I’m not breakin’ up with her. You can pester me all you like, but she’s staying.” He protested, typing on his laptop as though he weren’t bothered by the words Marc was saying.

“Steven…” He took his glasses off his face and slammed them on his desk in frustration. One of the lenses popped out.

“Look what you’ve done.” He grumbled, holding the lens up to the frame, unable to pop it back in easily “gonna need to make an eye appointment now, damn it. Would you just piss off already?”

“I don’t need to tell you why this is dangerous Steven. You’re going to get us killed. If they find out about her, she might get hurt too. You’re putting everyone in danger and-”

Marc continued talking but Steven heard nothing when he saw you walk through the doors to the classroom. There you were, breathtaking as ever, wearing exactly what he’d asked you to wear. He wondered if you really did leave your panties behind. He gulped harshly, lips parting while he stared.

There was that look he always gave you, like his entire world stopped moving. Steven tucked the curl that normally sat in front of his face away so he could look at you better. It took everything in you not to run to him and let your body melt into his right then and there. If not for the other students starting to file in behind you, you might’ve stolen a kiss or two.

He made it impossible to focus, being as effortlessly attractive as he tended to be. He fell into rhythm, pacing back and forth slowly while discussing the topic from the textbook you hadn’t studied enough of. The more he talked, the more you wished his mouth was working over your cunt, forcing you to arch your back and scream his name into his apartment. At some point he wiped his lips, and all you could think about were his thick fingers pumping in and out of your hole, stretching you out.

He looked at you, and you saw a smile form over his lips, unable to contain the way you made him feel. He kept talking to the class, not skipping a beat, but you noticed his cheeks turning several shades of red every time your eyes met.

Class felt like it lasted forever. You’d been thinking about all the things you and Steven would do once you were alone in his office. You were feeling needy, desperate, and you were sure you were dripping down your thigh by the time Steven finally ended the lecture. You had to stop yourself from flat out running to his office. When you got there, you closed the door behind you quickly. You dropped your bags before practically throwing yourself at him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Thought you were gonna be talking about–” he interrupted you sassing him with a kiss, “Queen Mary forever.”

Steven’s tongue tangled with yours in his heated desperation. He stole your breath, one kiss at a time. He groaned deeply as he parted from you for air.

“Queen Elizabeth.” He corrected you.

“Mmm,” you moaned into his mouth when you went back in for more.

He tasted so good you wanted to devour him. You pushed Steven back against the desk. He reached under your skirt and started circling his fingers around your clit, wasting no time finding it. You gasped, closing your eyes while resting your forehead against his chest.. He pressed some gentle kisses against your temple, the tenderness causing your stomach to swoop on top of your heady desire. You rolled your hips into his fingers further, desperate for more friction.

“Feeling needy today, love?” He asked, lips moving against your ear now.

“Yes-mmm-yes.”

You lifted your head again to meet his gaze. He leaned back against the desk and removed his hand from your cunt so you could straddle his knee. Steven kissed you again, deeper this time, reaching up to cup the back of your neck and pull you in tight.

You started grinding on his thigh, groaning into him with every pass of his lips over yours. You tipped your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to suck on, drawing more soft whimpers from your lips. You grabbed on to his shirt tightly, rutting forward over his leg, feeling the brush of the fabric against your sensitive clit.

“Oh, Steven,” you whined in his ear.

“Yes, love, does that feel good?”

You nodded, “mm…mhm”

“Good. Can feel you soaking through my slacks, use me however you want, dove. Take what you need,” and he meant every word, wanting nothing more than to hear his name fall from your lips when you finally came undone.

He continued sucking on your neck, reaching his hands under your skirt to squeeze your rear tightly, helping you slide over his thigh faster. You wished you could fuck him, right there and then, but you knew it was too risky in his office, especially with how loud the both of you were. You reached up and grabbed the back of his curly head tight while keeping your other hand gripping his shirt. Steven moaned into your throat, churning his hips lightly against you. You felt how hard he was, how hungry his movements were to get inside of you again.

“Mm, can’t wait to have you again, are you free this weekend?” Steven was almost growling in between his words.

“Yes…of course, I’ll be there.”

He wanted you so badly. Steven’s fingers were leaving divots in your ass cheeks, holding onto you tightly, helping you move faster against him. He loved the way your heat felt on his leg while you dragged your pussy lips over the fabric of his pants. Your skin tasted so sweet under his tongue as he continued leaving sloppy kisses over your neck. Your throat vibrated in a low moan.

“I’m so close,” you whispered softly, “then I want to taste you, Steven.”

Steven’s breath caught in his throat. He stopped kissing your neck to cup your cheeks and force you to look in his widened eyes.

“Y-you want to…love, do you mean…you want to put it in your…” Steven’s body trembled with excitement.

“Wanna know what you taste like.”

And then Steven’s lips were crashing into yours again, you were almost there, the tingling was washing over your body in a colossal wave–

The heels came in rapidly, so fast that you hardly had time to register Steven’s quick moves. You could only gasp as he pushed you back. The handle on the door behind you turned and you pulled your skirt down fast. Steven’s face was panicked as he scrambled to the other side of his desk, sitting down quickly.

“Steven your hair!” You hissed in a whisper, noticing what a mess you’d made of it.

“Stevie!” 

Donna, the dean of the university, walked into the room like a storm.

Steven didn’t like Donna. She’d hired him for the position, but made it abundantly clear to him and everyone else that he was the only candidate. Based on her constant attitude, he assumed that she didn't like him. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was late for the interview, or if it was because she was just a tough woman to get along with, but she clearly had a chip on her shoulder with him from the start. It also didn’t help that she called him Stevie the entire time, despite him correcting her over and over.

“I’m going around to all the…” She trailed off when she turned and noticed you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you’ve got…happenin’ in here.”

She looked you up and down. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Did she think something was suspicious about you being in there? Surely not. It wasn’t weird for a student to be in their professor’s office, especially since you had on record that he was a tutor for you, all she had to do was look it up. Maybe having the door closed was a red flag, and maybe your hair was a little disheveled, but there was nothing to suggest you were doing…what you were doing.

Steven felt all his blood run cold. ‘Whatever you’ve got happenin’ in here,’ she’d said. 

She knew…it was so obvious that she could tell something was happening between you and him before she walked in. He saw her look you up and down, making a face of disgust. The panic was starting to set into his bones, his leg bouncing under his desk. 

Donna always makes that face, Steven told himself.

But this time it was different. This time…Marc’s fears were being realized before Steven’s very eyes. Marc had warned him on several occasions that if they were caught, it could mean their death. Earlier, before you’d walked into class, Marc reminded Steven that you were at risk if something went south too. This stupid affair could get you hurt.

Steven looked at you, and you looked back at him helplessly. His lips pressed into a thin line when he finally realized what he needed to do, his heart dropping into his stomach. He never should’ve slept with you. Marc was right. He never should’ve crossed that line, never should have asked you to watch Gus, never should’ve brought you into their fucked up life. This was all his fault. Now he had to suffer the consequences and drag you down with him.

“This is it, Steven. You’ve been caught, what are you going to do now? Hm?” Marc’s tone held a self-righteous air that Steven didn’t appreciate, though he deserved it.

“Donna, we were just discussing the paper due on Wednesday that I’ve assigned in my class. What can I help you with?” Steven was trying to divert the conversation away from you.

“Just going around to all the departments and checkin’ in. I can come back.”

She kept looking over at you, and then back to Steven. Even if she didn’t think something was actually happening, she certainly was acting like she was suspicious of you being there. You gulped deeply, turning your eyes to Steven again. You felt the anxiety catching in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Yeah, yeah that would be great. I’ll come to your office this afternoon.” Steven said with a friendly smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Stevie, I leave at five.” She looked you up and down one more time before leaving the room.

You let out a huge sigh of relief followed by a nervous laugh. You ran your hands over your face and shook your head, looking over at Steven who was just staring blankly at the glass paperweight on his desk. What you didn’t see, was the one-sided conversation happening in Steven’s reflection.

“That was too close. I know you don’t want to do it, Steven, I know, and I’m so sorry.” Marc was being sincere, and Steven could feel that. Marc did feel bad for him. “I know you care about her, but that’s why it’s time to let it go now, before it gets worse. The longer you keep this going the harder and more dangerous–”

“Steven.” You said, seeing him look up at you with glistening eyes. “You okay? I was talking to you.”

Steven was looking at you and thinking about how you had no idea that your world was about to shatter around you. There was still time for him to let it go and keep pretending like nothing was wrong. If Donna did suspect something, and this affair went public…

He would rather leave you with a broken heart than see you dead.

“I-I’m sorry I was just…just thinking about…” He gulped, standing up and pressing his palm against the desk to stabilize himself. He looked at the wooden surface, clearly averting his gaze from yours.

He would rather walk over a mile of hot coals than say what he needed to say.

“Yeah, that was close. We’ll just have to be more careful next time. Can’t believe-”

“No, love, no.” Steven looked right at you now.

You watched a tear fall down his cheek, he wiped it away quickly. 

“We can’t have a next time.”

Your body seized in place. Your feet stepped forward, despite your voice getting stuck in your throat. You replayed his words in your head as if you hadn’t heard him clearly. Can’t have a next time. Immediately your bottom lip began to quiver. This couldn’t be real. Surely, you’d misheard what he said. You’d both known that this was a risk, that was why you avoided it before giving up on fighting the gravitational force pulling you towards each other. Was he really running away in fear over almost getting caught once?

“W-what do you…Steven, what are you saying?” You felt tears threatening your own eyes. He couldn’t be saying what you thought he was saying. .

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He pressed his lips together tightly, “please.” Steven’s face broke into a sob. “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Steven, where is this coming from? We knew this was risky when we started!” You got closer to him, desperate to get to him, but he put up a hand in protest. Lowering your voice to a desperate whisper, you pleaded with him. “Don’t…don’t do this. We can be more careful next time, we–”

“No, you have to go.” He said firmly, “You have to go, and you have to forget about me. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, and I never should’ve dragged you into this.”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m a kid? I’m twenty-one years old, I chose to do this, you can’t–”

“Yes I can!” Steven shouted at you for the first time since you’d known him. “You don’t know a thing about me. I’m not the man you think I am.”

The room was filled with a silence that tore through your soul. You had nothing to say to that, and frankly, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to talk to him after he yelled at you. Several emotions played out on Steven’s face before he finally looked away from you, and you could tell there was no more negotiating with him. He was right, you didn’t know anything about him. You knew that he was a history professor, that he was from London, and that he liked literature and art. You’d always felt like Steven was hiding something based on the way he didn’t want you at his apartment in the beginning, and you hadn’t forgotten how short he was when you tried to talk to him about his brothers.

Since you could see that this wasn’t going to end well, you went for a final stab, a last attempt to make him feel guilty for doing what he did to you; for taking what he took from you.

“You know, you should be fucking disgusted with yourself.” You started crying despite your desire to appear strong. “I gave you everything.” You grabbed your bags. “Is this what you do? Jump from college to college fucking your virgin students? Or just the stupid ones?”

“I’m sorry.”

You huffed on your way out the door on shaky legs, not taking another look at him. You slammed the door behind yourself harshly, half wishing the entire building would collapse around it. For good measure, you kicked it and then rushed down the hall to get to your dorm. You had to get away before anyone saw what a mess you were leaving his office.

Steven quickly ran to the door, locking it before turning and sliding his back against it, dropping to the floor in a slump. Nothing had ever hurt like this. Even when Steven found out he was part of a system within Marc’s mind, he hadn’t been this upset. This felt like his chest was caving in, like it was hard for his lungs to function. He simply wished he could pass out so he didn’t have to feel the heartbreak. He started sobbing noisily, letting out pained wails that Jake nor Marc had ever heard from him.

Your words had stung. Those final remarks you’d made in your pained anger, though petty, had twisted the knife in his self-inflicted wound. Steven didn’t blame you, you had every right to be mad. In fact, if you’d walked up and struck him, he probably would’ve understood.

Marc started stirring around restlessly, but he approached Steven like a big brother would a younger one. He’d never intended for Steven to get hurt, or you for that matter. He only wanted to protect the three of them, and make sure that they could survive in this new life they made. Marc and Jake had worked everything out so perfectly, and then you’d come along and swept Steven right off his feet, screwing up the whole thing.

“I know that was tough Steven, but you did the right thing,” Marc said in a gentle tone.

Jake remained quiet, but Steven could feel him there, present just below the surface.

“I can’t do this. I can’t teach here anymore. I’m gonna see her everywhere I go. Oh God…I took her…I took her innocence from her not two days ago! Marc…” Steven started breathing heavily, clutching his chest tightly. “I think I’m gonna have a panic attack.”

“You’re not going to have a panic attack, you’ll be alright, just breathe through it.”

“No, no Marc, I really hurt her. Did you see…” he took a labored breath, “did you see the look on her f-face? I broke her heart. We have to go somewhere else, I can’t ever look at her again, I might die. I have to get a new job.”

“You’re not going to die, and you can’t just leave your job, alright? It’s a good job, Steven. We had to work really hard to get you in here. You didn’t exactly…earn your PhD.” Steven started hyperventilating, “I don’t wanna sound like a jerk but, if you’d just done what I said from the start–”

“No, no, no Marc, no!” Steven stood up and started pacing, wringing his hands in front of him, “you think I didn’t know the entire time that what I was doing was wrong? ‘Course I knew! I just…” Steven stopped and looked out of the only window in the room down to the courtyard below. “I think I love her, Marc.”

The voice in Steven’s head stopped while Steven broke down again into another flurry of tears and sniffles that he couldn’t control. Marc knew Steven loved you, he could feel it seeping into the crevices of their mind. Saying the words I love her out loud was what broke Steven to a point that even Marc was worried they may never see him again.

When Marc came to the front, something he hadn’t experienced in weeks, he took a deep breath before wiping the tears from his eyes. He still felt the damp spot on Steven’s pants from where you’d been grinding on him before Donna interrupted. Marc wished more than anything that it hadn’t come to this, but he was back in control again, and he was going to have to clean up Steven’s mess until he came back.

Marc looked at his own reflection in the paperweight, and he only saw Jake staring back.

“I can’t feel him.”

“I know…but he always comes back. We just have to wait.”

----

If there was ever a good time to use your sick days at school, it was while you were curled up in your bed emptying box after box of kleenex. You felt pathetic, crying endlessly over Steven, but he’d hurt you more than you could form into words. Virginity was one of those things that you only had one rule for…give it to someone you love. You didn’t care about waiting for marriage, but you wanted to wait for the right one, and you thought you had.

When Layla asked you what was wrong, you were grateful that she was respectful enough of your boundaries not to press when you told her you didn’t want to talk about it. In truth, Layla probably was someone you could trust with this. You’d been roommates since your first year, and you were good friends. She’d kept secrets for you before, but not one of this caliber.

The thought crossed your mind to tell the dean the truth. You thought about going to her and letting her know that Steven had taken advantage of you. It wasn’t all his fault, you’d been very persistent, but a part of you, the part that felt angry, wanted to make him suffer the way you were suffering. Making him lose his career might be satisfying, but you knew that feeling would only be temporary, and you’d end up feeling guilty before long. Not to mention, you recalled reading that students could also be held liable for their inappropriate actions. You were an adult after all. You’d made your choice to sleep with your professor, and now you had to live with that.

You spent the next day in and out of sleep, waking up only to hear his words replay in your mind, and crying yourself back to sleep. You pulled out your phone on Wednesday morning.

You: Can we please talk? I can’t accept that this is over. Not after this weekend.

You had sent that on Monday after going back to your dorm. He didn’t answer. You don’t know what compelled you to go to class that morning. You thought perhaps it was the small part of you that hoped Steven would see you and completely change his mind, realizing that he was wrong. You also wanted him to see your tearstained face and feel guilty for what he’d done, but when you steeled yourself and walked through the classroom door, he wasn’t there.

You should feel relieved. You should be glad that he didn’t want to show his face after what he did. But you weren’t. One of the other history professors was able to cover the class on Steven’s behalf. You felt a pit settle in your stomach. Was he missing class because of you? The only thing this told you was that Steven was a coward and a pig; only intent on sleeping with you and then dropping you like you were nothing.

So why did you still feel like he was something? Why were you still thinking about all the times his face softened when he saw you, into the most loving gaze anyone had ever shown you? The way he always treated you like you were so important, taking you on a date to the art gallery and stuttering when you said sweet nothings that took him off guard. Something wasn’t adding up in your mind. The way he had treated you all this time didn’t add up to someone who just wanted to fuck you and dump you right after.

But that’s what he’d done.

By some miracle, you held yourself together for the day, getting through your classes. You weren’t completely free of tears, and you’d had to go to the bathroom a few times to wipe your tears, fix your makeup and go back, but you made it. That was the important thing.

It was dark when you walked back to your dorm that night. You recalled the times that Steven had walked back with you, and you’d never felt so alone. 

You weren’t alone though. There was a stern set of eyes that watched your every step, making sure you made it back in one piece. When he saw you get inside safely, a satisfied smile spread over his face. He would make sure you were safe whenever he could, despite knowing Marc would prefer they all pretended you never existed.

Jake could never forget you existed. He wasn’t able to get you out of his head, even if Steven had cast you aside. Jake knew how to keep a secret, and he intended to keep you. He would make sure you wouldn’t lose yourself to the pain Steven had caused.

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[missmungoe]

Editing the update for Bind Me to the Tide (Shanks x Makino Soulmate/Shared Pain AU), which has somehow become two chapters. ETA this week, but in the meantime, have a snippet, because Luffy is giving me a lot of feelings in this fic:

It became a routine, as the days of their stay lengthened to weeks—he’d be up with the sunrise, the first one through her doors, and the last to retire, his heart as light as her laughter, which Shanks spent most of his days looking for ways to coax out. And aside from the initial excitement surrounding their arrival, the following days were mostly uneventful. Peaceful, and without any notable incidents involving windmills or sharp objects.

With one exception.

The sniffling was making it hard to hold the needle steady, and, “Sit still,” Shanks said gently, angling his chin a bit.

Bottom lip sucked between his teeth, Luffy held his breath.

His look softened, and, “I’m not going to scold you,” Shanks said, as he continued stitching the cut in his cheek. It was a good thing the knife had missed his eye. “I’ve done more reckless things with a knife when I was your age. But speaking from experience, you should treat yourself with more care, if not for your own sake, then for your soulmate’s.”

Luffy sniffled, but, “My soulmate?” he asked.

“Everyone’s got one, right?” Shanks asked, with a smile that recalled his self-assured declaration, weeks ago now. “So even if you’re the one who's hurt, someone else will have felt it, too. And the stitches.”

It was punctuated by the needle piercing his skin, but Luffy seemed to have found a distraction in the topic of soulmates.

Focused on stitching the cut, Shanks didn’t ask, but then it was a private matter, even without counting the fact that he was talking to a six-year-old, but then, “I feel them,” Luffy said, and with a grin, “They get hurt a lot.”

His own smile was startled, but then it couldn’t be serious injuries if he sounded so delighted about it. “Maybe they’re a little hooligan like you, getting into fights.”

Luffy seemed delighted by this prospect. “Yesterday, it hurt here,” he said, pointing at his front tooth, his voice muffled as he said, “Like shomething phfell out.”

“They might have lost a tooth," Shanks said. "It happens at your age.”

Horrified eyes stared up at him, as Luffy asked, distressed, “Do they come back?”

He chuckled, “Yes." And with a look, “But only once. When you’re fully grown and you take a few too many punches, you’ll end up with gaps in your teeth. This is why I don’t fight with my fists; it would be a crime to ruin these pearly whites. Although there are some pirates who exchange them with gold.”

Luffy’s eyes rounded, his horror exchanged with delight. “Gold?”

Realising that he might have made a mistake, “If anyone asks, I did not put this idea in your head,” Shanks said.

Grinning, Luffy didn't seem to find any cause for concern. At least he wasn’t thinking about the stitches.

He was quiet for a beat, as Shanks continued, before he touched his chest, over his heart. “Sometimes it hurts here.”

His smile tilting, “Yeah,” Shanks said, gently. “Mine does that sometimes, too.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Pain isn’t just from cuts and bruises.”

He absorbed this, but then, “I like it,” Luffy said, smiling. “Having a soulmate.”

“Yeah?” Shanks asked. He was focusing on the stitches, but then he was trying to make it so it wouldn’t scar too much.

“Mm,” Luffy said. “I don't feel alone when I feel them.”

It hit him so hard he had to pause what he was doing, but looking at Luffy only found him smiling.

He didn’t reach for the bond, or Makino where she was in the storeroom doing inventory. And he’d been lucky, growing up, never lacking in company, but like the little boy on the barstool beside his, he thought about the little girl who’d grown up here, and wondered if there’d been a time, before Teach, and before she’d been so afraid, where she’d thought of him that way, not as a burden but as a companion.

“Can you have more than one?” Luffy asked then, as he resumed stitching the cut.

“Soulmate?” Shanks asked, and when he nodded, “I haven’t heard of it happening. For most people, feeling one person’s pain is more than enough.”

Luffy grinned, undaunted by this. “I’d have more if I could!”

“Yeah?” he chucked. “How many?”

He thought about it, before he declared, “Ten!”

Shaking his head, although his grin couldn’t be helped. This kid...

“That’s a whole crew,” Shanks said.

Luffy’s eyes widened, before he grinned and said, fiercely, “Even if I can’t have ten, I’m still gonna try.”

“Try?”

Luffy nodded, and said, “To feel when they’re hurt.”

His hands stilled, but then he hadn’t been prepared for that, although Luffy didn’t seem aware of the profundity behind that simple statement, but then for him, it probably was that simple.

“That,” Shanks said, with a rough chuckle, and saw him wince as he pulled the needle through, “Sounds like something a captain would say.” And with a smile, “But you’ll have to toughen up,” he said. “Can’t cry at every little pinch if you’re going to share the pain of your whole crew.”

It was punctuated by him snipping the thread, and, “All done,” Shanks said, tilting his chin to inspect it. “It’ll scar, but it shouldn’t be too bad.” Smiling, he lifted his brows. "Your soulmates might even recognise you when they see it.”

He realised what he’d said a second too late, but Luffy only looked emboldened by this.

Those wide eyes lifted to his own scars then, as he asked him, “Where’s your soulmate, Shanks?”

As though the Fates had been listening, Makino returned from the storeroom, her smile softening as she came up to the counter where they were sitting, reaching for Luffy’s chin as she inspected the stitches. She was standing between their barstools; this close, Shanks could count the pale freckles on her shoulders where the sleeves of her blouse bared them. She wore a new bodice today, sunflower yellow with wildflowers embroidered along the laces, the dark red petals bringing out the brandy in her eyes.

Turning towards him dragged his eyes up from her waist, as Makino said, “You’ve done this before.”

He might have felt a little ridiculous for his own reaction if he hadn't been so arrested by the gentle admiration on her face, and grinning, he waved his fingers. “Steady hands. Well, unless I’m drinking, but in which case I really shouldn’t be holding a needle to anyone's face.”

He saw her eyes darting to them, before she quickly looked away, and clearing her throat, “Hungry?” she asked Luffy, running her fingers through his hair. “I could make your favourite. Nothing heals a hurt like a good meal.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Lucky,” Shanks said, and saw her grin where it lifted her cheeks.

Bouncing off his barstool, his stitches already forgotten, “Food!” Luffy cheered.

“You can keep the captain company while I cook,” Makino said, a smile thrown his way. “If he doesn’t mind.”

“Always happy to have good company,” Shanks said, with a wink at Luffy, who’d climbed back onto the barstool. "And someone ought to keep this little troublemaker in check. Not me, but someone. I say we get into a bit more trouble, eh, Luffy?"

Eyes round, "What kind of trouble?" Luffy asked.

"Oh I'm sure we'll find something," Shanks said. "Always some trouble to be found, even in little ports like this."

Looking at Makino found her watching him, her eyes holding something that made him pause, although before he could inspect it, she'd blinked it away, and with a flustered smile, excused herself.

Shanks watched as she made her way to the kitchen, a last glance offered over her shoulder to him before she disappeared through the doors, leaving him by the bar with Luffy, and a feeling that had grown progressively harder to ignore, despite his continued attempts.

He wondered if it was his imagination, and that he was just seeing what he wanted in her reactions. And he didn’t consider himself a delusional man when it came to attraction—he was aware of what he looked like, and hadn’t exactly been lacking in attention where that was concerned. Even Makino had conceded, if only by prim omission, that she found him visually pleasing, which would have been all the encouragement he’d need, usually.

But attraction couldn’t always be helped, and it didn’t mean she’d welcome anything more. And given how comfortable she was around him now, he didn’t want to fuck it up by crossing a line there was no coming back from.

Even if the way she looked at him sometimes made him wonder if she would mind crossing it.

“Shanks?”

“Hm?”

“Why do babies hurt?”

He blinked, and turning his head found Luffy watching him expectantly. “What?”

“Yasopp was telling Ma-chan that it hurt when Usopp was born,” Luffy said, cocking his head. “Why? What happens?”

Shanks stared at him, his train of thought derailed so thoroughly, he had nothing to offer, and so only managed a very articulate, “Uuuuh.”

“Oh, and what’s a cervix?”

“Uuuuuuuuuh.”

“And what does ‘tearing’ mean?”

“Hey, do you want to play a round of bartop hockey?”

[hellhound5925]

HERE IT IS 🙌🏻 THE MOMENT LONG AWAITED

Cyare Verd

*OC Raven x Hunter

A/N: Welcome back! I apologize for taking so long but ☝🏼 I edited my original story up to the fourth chapter only to decide I still didn’t like it so guess what I edited the same four chapters again 😅

I’ll start by saying, yes it still follows the season two storyline of The Bad Batch (unoriginal I know) but I did change it up quite a bit. If your looking for Omega (lol) shes gone 👋🏼 I was never a huge fan of her so I wrote her out 🫣 otherwise, I hope you enjoy the new version of my fic. I will be taking it off Wattpad and AO3 in the meantime so I can finish making edits.

Oh, one last thing. If you would like to be tagged please drop a comment or send me a message ☺️ Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking time out of your day to read this. It means the world to me.

Anyways. Without further ado 🤲🏻 I present to you my updated fic 💖

Prologue/Background

Raven (If you see this. It’s the Pov for the following)

​Before order 66 went down, I spent my time on Kamino training new batches of clones for the Grand Army of the Republic. I met many of the troopers who lived there during the time including Sargent Hunter of the infamous Clone Force 99. Our interactions were usually quite brief but there was a certain charm about him I enjoyed from our very first encounter. However, I was there to perform my duty to my clan and that always came first.

​It was an honor to continue the legacy my father - Kal Skirata - left behind. He and my brothers - the Null ARC’s - have been off trying to thwart a plot they didn’t realize would lead to order 66.

​During that time, Kal’Buir had asked that I stay on Kamino not only for intel but also to get out any defecting troopers.

A friend of mine, who is another Mandalorian by the name of Aspen, posed as a supply ship for myself. She would drop off supplies or bring me an array of random items I asked for to validate her being there. Aspen would then smuggle troopers to Mandalore where they were to live out their days as they wished. A part of our clan. Clan Skirata.

When order 66 did finally happen, my brother Ordo had warned me to prepare for something big that would be happening soon. Whether or not he knew exactly what I’ll never know.

For the first few days, I lingered on Kamino waiting for any one of my brothers or Kal’Buir to contact me but it didn’t come. About a week later a droid appeared in my quarters with a message. ‘Get out now. You’re in danger Sen’ika (little bird).’ Kal’Buir was the only one who ever called me Sen’ika - mostly because I hated it but he could get away with anything.

Shortly thereafter, I packed my things discreetly and called for Aspen. She came within a rotation claiming the usual - that she was here to deliver supplies for me - and to my surprise they let her in.

The minute I was on her ship, the two of us left. We ended up on the planet in the mid rim. Where Ord Mantell became our temporary home.

Chapter One: Cid’s Parlor

Raven

Standing out in the busy streets of Ord Mantell, the sun beats down on my beskar fighting the darkness that rests on my shoulders. I will my feet to move it’s as if this weight is too much for them to carry.

My irritation radiates off me as the thunderous pitter patter pounds in my head each time a citizen passes by - must be nice to live so carefree - I think to myself. Yet they pay me no mind, even though the very nature of my armor is intimidating.

The dull black shein of a well-worn helmet that sits upon my head, with the infamous T shaped visor. The rest of the plates are the same color with a few iridescent feathers poking out from underneath. Ironic right.

This armor is my pride and joy. It was a coming of age gift - if that's what you want to call it - from my father. Kal’Buir was by far one of the greatest Mandalorians in the history of our people - though my opinion might be biased.

A wave of sadness washes over me at the thought of him, my family, my brothers, and my best friend Aspen. Shaking the thoughts from my mind I tell myself they wouldn’t want me to sulk. Aspen would smack me if she were here. Unfortunately, the two of us had to go our separate ways after getting into some trouble. What else is new?

Aspen has always been the friend I can count on for anything. We met as kids on Mandalore and practically grew up together. Once we were old enough, the two of us would drink - a little too much - and run our mouths. Sometimes I’d come home with a black eye and Kal’Buir would say ‘I hope the other guy looks worse’. With a osik (shit) eating grin he knew I could handle myself.

Eventually that trouble caught up to us. When I had been on Ord Mantell before, she and I got into it with a group of merc’s and Cid saved our skin. Usually I didn’t pick fights we couldn’t win but that time I did.

That was just after our home was bombed by the Empire. My family. My clan was there as far as I know. Rumor has it the surface is no longer safe. The blast destroyed everything and killed everyone. Grief does funny things to people.

Since then Cid feels we owe her every time she calls. Aspen was smart enough to ignore her but I can’t leave business unfinished. I don’t like owing people anything.

Bitterness courses through my veins and I find my feet moving through the doorway.

Hunter

Cid's Parlor is loud and crowded - as usual. Which for enhanced senses is why I prefer the solitude of the ship. Let’s not even get into the stench of hot bodies and alcohol might put me over the edge.

I take a deep breath to steady myself and push out the overwhelming sounds and smells, in an attempt to tune back into my brother's conversation. Echo and I were discussing whether or not the Marauder needs maintenance. Which is true it does. However, we don’t have the credits.

One glance over at Wrecker and its obvious Tech is beating him - again - at dejarik.

With a sigh and a gentle swirl of the pint in my hand, I watch as the amber liquid spins like a world pool. The sickly-sweet smell of blood orange and yeast reaches my nose. I let myself get lost in it for a moment, the scent totally washing over me.

The weight of the things we have had to endure begins creeping in. My men. Their safety and well-being are my responsibility. Crosshair.

Before I’m sucked too far into the void, my senses pick up something that wasn’t there a moment ago. Dark, sweet raspberry, rose. I’d recognize that scent anywhere after the hours I’d spent committing it to memory.

Lifting my gaze from my glass, it’s pulled like a force of gravity as a Mandalorian female enters the parlor. A warmth washes over me mixed with a little relief at seeing that all too familiar T-visor. I can’t contain the shock that creeps on my face at her presence or the memory—

‘Alright everyone, today we go over the basics.’ Her voice is crisp but not cold, giving orders and yet…silky smooth. I could listen to her speak to the regs all day.

She continues barking out orders which I recognize as the basics for hand-to-hand combat. I stop listening about half way through just to commit her to memory.

Covered head to toe in dark black beskar, her visor drifts over the group of men before her. The small frame is quite a contrast to the 6ft Clone troopers in formation. She has such a commanding presence, exuding confidence. My eyes roam over her curves and stop at the dual westar -35’s attached to either side of her thighs. For a moment I swear my heart might leap out of my chest—

Raven Skirata.

My trousers suddenly become constricting forcing me to shift uncomfortably. We only ever ran into one another a few times on Kamino. Mostly casual conversation about war efforts. The sound of her laugh when I told her about some of the things we’d improvised on missions, is one my brain never lets me forget. I never did get the courage to ask her about herself.

Raven crosses over to the bar and my eyes follow her every move. It’s only now that I notice she’s skinnier than I remember. Her complexion is quite pale in comparison to the dark circles under her eyes. The sight causes my chest to tighten. What the hell happened?

"Long time no see. I was starting to think you wised up" the Twi-lek bartender says by way of greeting. There's a long pause as the Raven drops her shoulders considerably.

"Unfortunately, I'm a little low on rations to be wise" she shoots back, that silky smooth voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

Having caught the attention of a rather large man - whose been talking loud enough for everyone in here to hear - he leans over to speak to her.

"Wow, that must be real beskar.......Wonder what kind of price someone would pay for th-that...." He slurs a little at the end.

In one smooth motion, Raven ejects her vibro-blade from her vambrace - the steel practically sings - slamming his head into the bar top with the other hand. A loud thud follows. Some of the patrons stop talking to stare while the Twi-lek laughs.

Pressing her blade to his throat she leans in close she sneers, "Try to take it from me and I'll find out how much someone will pay for your head.”

The man proceeds to mumble and she cocks her head at the bar tender as if in annoyance. Letting go of the man he slumps to his knees before getting up and stumbling away, hand pressed to his temple.

I have to work had to suppress the smile that threatens to creep onto my face, the corner of my mouth twitches anyways.

"Don't mess with Mandalorians" Echo chuckles, drawing attention. Raven glances our way tensing. Mentally I command myself to look away but I can’t. For a moment I swear, even through her visor we make eye contact.

Raven

After I’m satisfied I’ve put this man in his place, I let go and he slumps to the floor. Comments fly from over my shoulder but there’s that voice I’ve heard thousands of times that stands out.

I can’t help but turn and that when I see them. The red and white plastoid. Thanking my ancestors for the helmet, I roll my eyes at just how ironic it is they are here. Sargent Hunter and the Bad Batch. He and I have spoken a few times on Kamino but the others I’ve never officially met.

Frozen in place, I stare for a second. The Sargent doesn’t take his eyes off me with an unreadable expression. If I’m lucky he won’t recognize me - I think to myself. Forcing myself to move, I turn back to the bartender with a finger in the air, signaling I’d like a shot.

My gloved hands make their way to my helmet and gently slide it off, letting my messy blonde braid at the back of my head fall. Lately I find myself caring less and less about what I look like.

Placing my helmet on the bar top, I take a breath to steady myself before taking the shot. The burning liquid a welcomed punishment if nothing else.

The bartender nods over my shoulder and I sign knowing what's coming.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Cid says, throwing an arm over me like we are old pals.

I roll my hazel eyes "I'm not here because I want to be. Lets get on with it" I grumble.

"No 'Hi Cid, how are you?'" She asks.

"Nar'sheb (shove it)" I say in my native tongue with a polite smile on my face. She has no idea what I said to her but there's a snicker from someone close by.

————

"Remember what happened last time you threw your attitude around like that? " Cid scolds me as we enter her office.

Picking dust off my flight suit I sass, "I'm not here to discuss my 'attitude'. What's the mission?"

Cid moves behind her desk and crosses her arms "Fine, I need you to help out a group of fine gentlemen." She starts to explain, her tone a little too...chipper.

I raise a brow, shifting my weight and hum my dissatisfaction.

Cid immediately gets defensive, “Look it’s not my fault you mandos like to find trouble. You’re just lucky I was there to bail you out. Besides, these guys could really use someone with your skills. Dooku's private stash is being relocated by the Empire and I want you to help them get as much as possible".

The fact that she said Empire had my attention and attitude immediately shifts.

"I thought you might like that and I promise I'll give you 20%" she continues noticing my mood lighten.

"30 and it's a deal" I counter.

"Hey! I gotta pay those other guys too. I feel I'm being quite generous.”

I guess for considering who I’m speaking with… "Fine 20%, Now who are these guys?"

"They call themselves the Bad Batch. Wait here I'll go get them" she doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she heads out the door.

For a moment I stay where she left me and contemplate my next move. I can either play it like I don’t know them and take the chance their Sargent will recognize me or…

With an annoyed sigh, I stride over to her desk and set my helmet down before scanning the book shelves. Most of these I’ve read during my ‘spare time’ when Cid let me crash here before. Not surprisingly, there’s nothing new.

Leaning my back against one I take my gloves off and unbraid my hair. The blonde waves fall loosely over one shoulder ending just below my breast. It’s a wonder I ever let it get this long but a part of me just can’t bring myself to cut it.

I make myself comfortable at her desk, leaning back and kicking my boots up on it, When Cid flings the door open and scowls at me. My stomach ties itself into knots but I try to seem disinterested by playing with my hair.

There’s a chance these guys decided like the others to side with the Empire. But the odds they did and they are here? Slim but not zero.

Pushing off the desk I stand and stroll around to the front, leaning against it. A few golden strands fall into my face with the movement. My hands naturally side down towards my blasters holstered at my sides. A defense position that’s become muscle memory. The Sargent eyes follow my every move.

"Take it easy there Mando these are the good guys."

Cid rolls her eyes after seeing my body language. Once again in typical Cid fashion she hid this from me, likely knowing I wouldn’t come.

The largest one of the 4 pushes past.

"I'm Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up!" He says very loudly, sticking out his hand. My body is further tensing.

I hesitantly shake his hand, which compared to mine - even with gloves on - looks like it could easily crush it.

"Wrecker, I feel that last part was not necessary" says the one holding a datapad.

"I am Tech by the way.”

Nodding by way of greeting, I quickly glance over at their Sargent. Had I blinked I would have missed the split second of recognition before the mask of a leader slid into place.

The one with a socket arm glances over at him. Probably from the tension radiating off of me. Those amber eyes see me for exactly who I am.

My breathing picks up, but I quickly get it back under control. The former doesn’t seem to notice, not taking his eyes off me.

I decide to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Hoping to hide whatever it is he sees.

Shaking his head like he’s having a difficult time dragging himself from thought, introduces himself.

“I'm their Sargent-well was their Sargent...Hunter and this is Echo" he gestures to socket arm.

Echo waves at me with his socket and a soft smile. I nod slowly and clear my throat.

“I know who you are.”

Tech lifts his eyes from his datapad to look at me once again. Before he or anyone else can I say anything I continue,

“Raven. Raven Skirata.”

————

When I start towards my ship - alright so it's not really my ship, I stole it - I was so deep in thought I almost didn’t hear someone call out to me.

"Wouldn't it just be easier if we all went together?"

I stop not bothering to turn around "How do I know you won't leave me behind?"

If these are the clones I’ve heard so much about, there’s a good chance I can trust them. However, my instincts are telling me not to. Echo, almost like he is reading my mind says,

"You can trust us, we aren't like the others".

The sorrow in his voice fills the space between us, making me uncomfortable. I roll my shoulders, hands flexing at my sides.

Without saying anything I head up the ramp to my ship, gather a few things in my pack, and come back out to see Echo standing where I left him. The rest of the group must have gone to their ship. With a small nod he leads the way.

As we approach, I stop for a moment before heading up the ramp to admire the hull before me. An Omicron class attack shuttle but it’s been modified. It’s just as impressive if not more so in person. My brothers - specifically Mereel and Jaing - would have loved this thing, I can practically hear them fighting with even Ordo for who would pilot.

With a few steps up the ramp, I peer inside and it’s notably clean. Briefly I take in the surroundings noting the others up front in the cockpit area. Echo glances back at me sensing my hesitation.

“I’ll show you around”

I tip my visor towards him appreciatively, without saying a word.

————

Echo finishes the tour with the bunks, two on the left and two on the right. He gestures to the right, showing me which one is mine and offers me a gentle smile. With a quick glance I realize there are only 4 of them.

“Hunter usually stays up in the cockpit. You get his bunk.”

Great.

I nod my appreciation again and take my pack off my shoulder. The only things in it are a couple changes of regular clothes and some rations. I've not got much to lose that isn't my beskar these days.

Placing my pack on the lower bunk, the mythosaur skull on the back of my gloves stare back at me with hollow eyes. It’s almost like they know. Our people are gone. For a moment I wonder if anyone will even remember what it means.

I forgot Echo was still standing there until his throat clears. He says carefully, “Your father is Kal Skirata.”

My heart starts to thunder in my chest at the mention of his name. I finish settling my pack before I turn to face him. A part of me wants to answer but it feels like my mouth is full of cotton. I mentally thank my ancestors for the visor between us.

“He was one of my instructors. In my early days I mean. He was always really good to us. I heard about what he did...he got some of us out.”

Silence fills the space. I slide my helmet off, tucking it under an arm. Unable to look him in the eye, my boots seemingly interesting all the sudden.

“He’s gone.” My voice almost doesn’t sound like my own. Distant.

“Too many good people have been lost because of the war. I’m sorry to hear that.”

In his kind words, the galaxy feels a little less lonely. I finally lift my head and meet his gaze, seeing the loss there.

“I’m sorry for your loss too.”

Echo only offers me a somber smile in response. My walls go back up and I decide to change the subject. It comes out a little sassier than I had intended.

“So, you all have enhanced something or other right? I mean I was on Kamino and spoke to your Sargent a few times but mostly what I know is what I’ve heard.”

”Each of us had a unique quality. Wrecker is brute strength, Hunter has enhanced senses, and Tech is really smart.”

”Wasn’t there another member? Crosshair?”

Another sad look from him, “He chose the Empire.”

“Ah” I nod my understanding. “How do you fit in here?”

He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles.

“I was originally with the 501st under General Skywalker. We were on Skako minor and I was blown up. Captured by the Techno union and they made me mostly a machine.” Echo lifts his socket arm as a reference.

“My Captain. Rex. He and the Bad Batch rescued me. I owe them everything.”

That name. Captain Rex. It sounds familiar. ”No offense but you just met me and you trust me enough to tell me all this?” My sass once more evident.

He smiles and says “Your father spoke highly of you.”

My throat closes up at the same time pride washes over me. When I don’t respond he continues.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in” and with that he turns and heads toward the cockpit.

I watch as he reaches the others and takes a seat. Unable to do anything else other than process what he just said.

————

It takes me a while to recover from the conversation. A part of me hesitates to comm Aspen but I can’t risk compromising her.

Instead, I take my time to check my weapons (two blasters at my hip, vibro blade in my vambrace, and the various blades stashed in my boots and under my back plate). No one bothers to check on me, which is just as well. Finally, I end with checking the HUD in my helmet - which seems to be functioning fine.

Discarding my helmet on the bunk, I head for the cockpit where the others are chatting quietly. The hushed tones likely to prevent me from overhearing. Hunter stiffens as I approach which only confirms my thought.

The four seats at the front were taken up by each of the members. Leaning against the doorway I cross my arms over my chest plate.

"We don't have a reason to trust each other but once this mission is over and I'm paid, I'm gone. You won't have to worry after that.” The annoyance plastered on my face is visible to all.

They all glance at one another except Hunter, his eyes fixed on my face like he’s trying not to look anywhere else. He almost looks hurt at my comment.

"That seems reasonable" Tech says very matter of factly.

”Great. So, what's the plan?”

“Get to Serenno and scout the area." Hunter says turning his attention to space zooming by at light speed.

I sigh, "That's not much of a plan but I can improvise."

Wrecker chimes in, ”Ahaha you’ll fit right in!” Awkward silence fills the space before I break it.

“Right. Well I guess we should all rest up so let me know when we land.” Spinning on a heel, I head for the bunks.

Next Chapter here.

Wattpad link here.

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in the future!

[eris-eveningstar]

As you fall to the depths of desire

Here's an excerpt from chapter 2! It hasn't been released yet, but enjoy! I almost got it done, just another scene or two.

Here's my fic, for new readers:

---

"Ginny! Please, please don't tell anyone!" He stammered his words as he yanked the shirt back on, trying to position it so the hickies were covered up. Harry had no idea what to say, if words could ever be enough, but he just knew that Ginny had to keep her mouth shut. He couldn't explain what happened, where, and with whom, and this was just...Merlin, no.

With a sigh, Ginny closed the door to the dorm room and shot a locking spell towards it. "Well, Harry, looks like we need to talk. Why don't we sit?"

Slouching his way, head down, Harry plopped onto his bed with all the mental clarity of a criminal on death row about to be faced with a dementor. Ginny sat on the chair of his adjoining desk, and with a hand on her cheek and glimmering eyes, she said, "So, Harry, who's the lucky girl or guy? I'm pretty sure it's an alpha, at least, looking at all...that." She chuckled.

Harry gaped, looking at her like she just told him she was in love with Severus Snape and they were engaged to be married. "Huh?" He said dumbly.

"Well? Out with it! C'mon, was it good? You gotta tell me, I haven't gone that far yet, but you...wow." Ginny giggled into her hand, her reddened cheeks matching with her red hair.

"I—yeah, yeah it was good." His words came out heavy, but it was almost like a release, as if he just put down a weight he'd been carrying. It was...nice. It was nice to admit. Despite who it was with, Harry had really enjoyed it. He didn't want to accept it, but sexually speaking, Tom and him were...extremely compatible. If Tom wasn't his enemy, if they were the same age, Harry wondered....

He couldn't let his mind go down that path, though, so instead, he spent the next hour fielding Ginny's questions, sharing with her giggles (somehow) as he explained how his first time went down, heavily edited, of course.

"So, um, he held me down, and then he...well...his hands held my thighs down, and he opened them and then..." He blushed, his words felt too explicit and he almost couldn't go that far, but Ginny understood, as evident by the flush on her cheeks.

"Wow. That is some alpha... huh. Bloody hell, do you think he has a brother? Maybe one that likes redheads?"

Harry snickered. "You'd bloody hope not. The sex is good but the guy's a git, and if he had a brother, then Merlin help us all."

"This guy isn't You-Know-Who, Harry." She said with an eye roll, not realizing exactly how wrong she was, but Harry certainly wasn't going to tell her. "Or Malfoy...right?"

Looking into Harry's dumbstruck eyes, she snapped, "Right?"

[regulusrules]

Hi hi!!! I intend to start your Caesar AU tonight :) You’ve mentioned that you’ve been writing it for a year, but that it’s still a WIP as you post. So I’m just wondering what your process for this has been? Do you write a new chapter every week before the next Friday? Do you have a very detailed outline that you use? I’m just interested in hearing how other AO3 authors work. I’m sure you’ll see my name in your AO3 comments ;)

Hi love! Thank you for coming by to ask this. Be prepared for a ramble; this fic is my entire personality now, and its story of how it came into creation makes me go insane. So, on the ides of 2023's march, I was like, why don't I write a parallel of my favourite play in the entire world on my favourite show in the entire world? I came to tumblr, blurted out what came to my mind, and spent nearly the entire year trying to make it make sense. Because for real? It is an insane idea, mad as a march hare. Why for the everloving sakes would Merlin stab Arthur? And Post-Camlann too?? How could this possibly lead to the Golden Age that I am desperate for? So yeah, 2023 was basically coming up with the plot, the plot twists (you'd be SHOCKED by how many there are in this fic!), and writing down random scenes that I had no context for whatsoever. After I had nearly everything out, I finalised its outline and what I planned to do with it. Now, with the fic 95% written (save for the finale, because I'm planning for it to be an audience reaction-based kind of finale) I am at the stage where I contextualize everything in its place, and do a final round of editing. Also, I make sure to share it with my wonderful friends, @remuscariad and @clockwrkpendrxgon, who constantly put me in line regarding the angst train I'm hauling on there in the first few acts. So yeah, all in all I would say this fic is fully written, but in the process of putting it out to the world, it is writing me in its own way. Enjoy reading it, and I hope it brings you joy (and tears!) just like it did to me :) 🤍🗡

[dodger-chan]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

Five? Okay five.

1. That Sin, Through Which I Run

My first completed Stranger Things fic, rec'd with the caveat that it's not a happy fic. I just really like the reverse chronology and the unending misery so I can't resist a chance to rec it.

2. Time Out of Mind

My time travel story. Having lost the fight with Vecna, our surviving heroes go back to season one to try to fix it. Focused less on how they fix things and more on Robin handling (or failing to handle) the past.

3. Their Wedding Night

Technically I only wrote chapter two, @sharpbutsoft wrote chapter one. Chronologically the earliest story in A Bliss Like This, our jazz age steddie and stobin AU. I'm not sure which really is the best story in the series, but of the ones I wrote it's the best one to start with.

4. Give Him a Mask

Not a Stranger Things fic, but rather a Marmalade fic. So in addition to a fic rec, this is also a film rec. Watch Marmalade, enjoy how the film plays with your expectations and the nature of storytelling and perspective. Then read this fic about uncertainty and identity.

5. Reveal the Yearning Desert

My 'what if' fic. My 'the Upside Down is a dark reflection of Hawkins because it represents all of the bad things about Hawkins that the town ignores' fic. My 'between writing and editing I think I spent close to a year working on this' fic. My 'Carol Perkins and Steve Harrington have been through too much together for a little thing like season one to make them not friends' fic. Also a genuine steddie fic with, to my mind, a genuinely happy if not perfect ending.

[dragonfly0808]

S1 ch8

To this day one of my fave chapter titles and one of my fave chapters overall, I was so excited to write a whole chapter from the boys’ POV and I tried very hard to really get across their personalities and how they each think of their squad, I remember I spent like a week planning the chapter and then another week writing and editing just to make it perfect, and I’m still very proud of this chapter.

First: Sky being so proud of his team and of himself for getting jobs not due to his royal status but due to their hard work.

First mention of Shirley, though no name drop. And, in case yall didn’t know in this chapter Riven makes mention of Cloud Tower inscriptions -“Have you started preparing the papers and the essay?” Another pause, “I know it’s still a long time for the due date but it’s best to start preparing now.” Another longer pause and Riven sighed heavily, “Just listen to me for once please. Start checking everything. - cause originally Shirley was older and was gonna start Cloud Tower in s2 instead of s3 but then I made a very soft reboot of her age (cause I realized I wanted her to be close in age to Roxy so she could be part of that squad) so that’s a little fun fact right there.

THE BOYS DON’T EVEN REALLY KNOW EACH OTHER YET, THEY’RE JUST STARTING TO LEARN ABOUT THE OTHER AAAAHHHHH

This makes me very emotional, again, them just starting their friendship, what do you mean I once wrote them before they were bonded for life and brothers?

Tiny Brandon POV, mostly to show that his main trait is being a protector cause it’s Brandon duh.

Riven taking charge of the situation! Being instinctually protective and trying to distract the everyone so they won’t be scared. 

Idk why I wrote Flora a lot more… she’s bowing and shit? I think that was gonna be a Healer thing from Lynphea but then I forgot and never brought it up again

Tecna being exhausted from keeping the Owl from sinking for a minute… ugggh they really had a power crawl didn’t they?

Damn, the days when the girls were inexperienced and the boys were justified in trying to keep them away from the action… so much has changed

Timmy’s POV, trying to fix the walkie talkie and everytime he gets a clear voice someone just snatches it away ajajajajajajjjajaa

All of them panicking and fighting, they’re still learning how to be a team! -Soon all four of them were yelling, all sense of compatriot ship forgotten in the face of panic.-

“The plants were scared?” Riven’s tone became dismissive, which earned him a few angry glances from the other girls when Flora shrank into herself.

“Hey, she just kinda saved your asses so watch the tone.” Musa was quick to retort, stepping in front of Flora.

“It’s fine Musa-”

“No it’s not. Now, are you gonna keep being idiots and insist that you don’t need anyone, or are you going to let us help you so we can find the troll and get this over with?” Musa didn’t wait for an answer, whipping around and taking the lead, dragging Flora with her.

Musa’s ride-or-die ass showing itself for the first time. And Flora used to be so quick to back down it makes me want to cry!!!!

Tecna awkwardly hovering around Timmy, trying to help him fix the walkie but not knowing how to engage in conversation, the start of their dynamic, I’m dying.

And finally, a longer Brandon POV to show his connection with Stella and we see Stella’s first instinct is to take care of and protect the girls. I think this is when I finally started to figure out how I wanted to write Stella.

————

It might seem weird to see me essentially fangirling over my own fic but I don’t even care I’m proud of my baby and it’s been AGES since I even read s1, I have like 3 scenes i’ve gone back to to check details but aside from that, this is like reading it for the first time to me

[tadpolesonalgae]

tabby... youve really outdone yourself with this new chapter of cbmthy- gimme 3-5 business days to get my report on ur desk 🙏

(i hope you had a lovely break! dont hesitate to take more time if u need, ur human too <3 )

-🤠

I'm honestly so surprised it went as well as it did? I feel like I spent quite a while knowing I had to write that scene in ch. 21 but I just couldn't figure out how to make it happen? I think I'd gotten it into my head that it had to happen over a dinner and like an argument happening and then reader just quietly announcing her predicament in the empty space but I like this version much better with the planning and reader kind of consciously making the decision to come forward and tell them herself after what happened with Bas? Chapter 21 was also all written and edited in one day which is why it's shorter that the other recent ones but again, I've reread through it and I'm (surprisingly) happy with how Sleepy Tabby writes! :)

'(i hope you had a lovely break! dont hesitate to take more time if u need, ur human too <3 )'

Thank you :')

I know October seems ages away still but I want to be as ready and prepared for it as I can be so there might be some gaps in fics but hopefully I'll be able to reblog/answer some other asks I got while I was away and haven't yet gotten to <3

[rissynicole]

The End of an Era

Hello Invader Zim folks! 

For those unacquainted with me, I am a fanfic writer and sometimes-artist who mainly creates for the IZ fandom. I wrote a fanfiction novel titled A Parade of Indignities, which was actively being written and published between the years of 2017 and 2021. 

After I completed the writing for it in 2021, I spent the next year doing some revising and editing for it. It was kind of on-and-off whenever I’d find the time and energy to do it. It occurred to me recently, though, that I was revising the fic indefinitely. I was just never happy with it no matter what. I needed to give my project a deadline and then lay it to rest. The enemy of “done” is “perfect.”

So, over the last few weeks, I have wrapped up my little nitpicks, and have discreetly replaced the old chapters with the new over on AO3 and FFN. What is currently posted on both those sites is the FINAL draft of the fic. All edits, revisions, and rewrites have been finished. I leave the fic as is now: a symbol of where my writing ability was at between the ages 19 and 23. I’m still immensely proud of it, and I hope others enjoy it, too!

For those who have read the fic already: none of the fic’s actual storyline or major themes changed. Even rewrites were fairly minor. Probably the most notable thing I changed was Chapter 28, in which I rewrote, added, and removed some scenes while keeping the same ending.

That said, I guess I’m making this post because I realize the fic is old at this point. (Or I guess it’s old in fandom years? It’s so weird going on Tumblr and seeing people tag IZ art and fic as “fandom classics” when they were made in, like, 2019 or something.) Anyhow, I digress. 

If you’re an old reader, a new reader, or someone who just stumbled on this post with no other context, I invite you to check out my fic if you feel so inclined! It’s ZADF, it’s hurt/comfort, it includes some minor characters with major roles (if you like Skoodge, Larb, or 777, this one’s for you), and it’s completed. 

As I say a fond farewell to this longtime project, I want to welcome 2023 with all the potential it offers me to start on new writing projects. I can’t wait to start a new adventure. 💛

Archive of Our Own Link

Fanfiction.net Link

Masterpost, in case you would like to know more about the fic.

[yobotica]

Fandom Homework

Idea by @razielim, I like the idea of sitting down and talking about the stuff I want to be working on! Mostly pretty rambly here, so I'll put it all beneath a cut:

It's all gonna be about the WIPs, baby! I think the thing that comes to mind most on 'boy I wish I could finish this' is actually the fallout AU I have for Assassin's Creed. ShaunDes, of course, but I think the ultimate plan was to try for OT3 with Clay on this one. I've never done it, but I get a lot of comments for that on my other fics and I think it would be interesting in this setting if I can make it work. I think the current plan for this one is more a sort of main 'how the group got together' vibe (all the moderns) and then snippets/side stories for some of their adventures. I do have an overall plot involving everyone figuring out who they are, secrets coming to light, etc. I just gotta get it all written is all.

Second is obviously to finish my in progress titanfall fic, which I usually just refer to as Weary, lol. While I've never once really felt pressured that updates are few and far between by comments on AO3, I sometimes regret posting it before it was finished. I never post WIPs as they're worked on because I am the slowest writer - once I get going, I can write pretty fast, it's just the getting started that trips me up. That, and i end up writing a lot of stuff that it turns out, it's not time for, or it's just not right for the story. I think I'm at like, over 15k words discarded for this fic overall, some of which has been repurposed/used already (just later than when it was originally written), but most of which has not. (Yet; I know at least two bits are just too early).

Third is a fic that is almost 10 years old and unfinished. It's only been posted up to chapter 10 on the assassin's creed kinkmeme, the last chapter of which was posted in 2016. It's almost complete, actually, sitting at just under 55.5k words, but I can't quite pin down the ending. Then it needs to be edited. Insert sad-cowboy emoji.

I'd really like to revisit my old DS9 stuff. I never published any of it on AO3 - in fact, I can't even remember if I've published any of it anywhere. It's some of the earliest stuff I've written, and it's pretty rough by my standards, but it's still something I'd like to get some time into and whip up into something readable at some point.

I want to learn how to draw transformers! I've wanted to for a while, but I recently watched Transformers One and it was gorgeous. There's a lot of different styles for the whole franchise, but I like that one a lot. That and Transformers Prime, which I haven't seen yet, lol. I'm a pretty recent fan, to be honest, but me and a friend have spent a lot of time making transformers OCs that I'd love to be able to draw just for fun. (It's the only reason I play Forza Horizon 5 at all, is to make the car forms for those that can be made in that game.)

I'd love to get works written for a few fandoms I've been into for a while, but never written for. Stuff like Dishonored, Legacy of Kain/Soul Reaver, Inception or even Dragon Age. Mostly based on vibes rather than concrete ideas (except for dishonored, which I have exactly one (1) idea that could be used for fic), but still. It's something I'd like to do.

Oh! I need to finish and edit the FFXV fic I have in progress! It could be considered complete enough, to be honest, but it feels incomplete to me for some reason. I wrote up to a certain point, then lost all steam. It's set post Episode Ignis alternate ending, a really, really cute and sweet fic.

I think one thing I'd like to do is maybe just post a collection on AO3 of my WIPs. I don't think of anything I've written as abandoned, even if it's been years since I looked at them, but I also do think some of it was pretty good! I don't know how readers feel about this, though.

I'd like to get more Deus Ex fic written, too. I had a few things perk my interested for kinktober but October was mostly a really shit month for me, so I got no writing done at all. I definitely don't mind using those prompts late or anything, but I still haven't got any creative juice for writing right now, so they're just sitting there, waiting for their time.

I've also had a few ideas that I think I might never write but maybe folks might be interested in hearing about or adopting themselves? Like prompts, maybe. Adoptable fic ideas. Mostly it's stuff I'd love to read but not research to write myself, but that feels a little selfish, lol. But I also just think they're fun to talk about and gush over even if they never actually get written.

I think this was nice to sit down and write out. I don't post very much about myself or my work, but I've enjoyed seeing people talk about things they'd like to get done or things they have in progress and thought I'd share. I'm wishing you all well and hoping you all have something creative you'd like to look forward to doing as well! <3