#rob is my whole mood always

[the-fandom-fuckup]

The fact that this face didn't get animated is an afront to me and also god

The self satisfaction, the fucking smirk, openly displaying his pride bc he finally rose up n not only met, but bested the giant motherfucker that made him question his worth for so long just lmsjfksbdskndsj

I'm gonna go feral

[sematarygirls]

      FUGITIVE!RAFE x MOTELWORKER!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ fem!reader, unprotected p in v, choking, exhibitionism if you squint, murder, reader hates the cops, fucking a wanted criminal on a desk pretty much, seedy motel, passing mention of prostitution, drugs, and other illegal activities

NOTES .ᐟ when you're in an idgaf war and your opponent is motelworker!reader... my girl has seen shit, okay.

Sweat glistened on your exposed skin, a fitted top and pair of shorts barely covering your figure as you sat in the front office of your dad's motel. The heat was unbearable, and the humidity practically suffocating, causing your hair to stick to your forehead and your clothes to uncomfortably cling to you.

Leaning back in the office chair with your bare feet propped up on the desk—a fresh layer of nail polish drying on your toes—and a magazine in your hands, you sighed loudly, flipping to the next page. A bored expression was seemingly permanently etched into your features, purely disinterested in anything. Someone could come in and rob you with a gun to your head, and you'd barely blink.

The small square television in the corner was playing some sitcom at a low volume, the sounds of a couple fucking in a room a few doors down drowning out whatever stupid, corny jokes were being told under an ear piercing laugh track

The little motel, named Paradise Inn like this was some sort of really bad porno, was out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The nearest building was a gas station a mile or so up the road, and the sheriff's department which was about five miles in the opposite direction.

The secluded nature meant that you were always encountering the oddest people. You were sure half of them were serial killers and the other half prostitutes, if you had to guess, but you didn't actually care. Whatever the reason they came in to pay for a dirt cheap hotel room with no questions asked was their own business, and you genuinely couldn't care less.

The little bell above the door chimed, indicating that someone had entered, but you didn't even look up from your magazine, your eyes scanning some Hollywood drama about people you'd never even heard of. Footsteps thudded on the dirty linoleum floor, stopping right in front of you. When you still didn't look up, the man cleared his throat impatiently, clearly irritated and not in the mood for games.

"I'll be right with you," you hummed with disinterest, despite the fact that you were clearly not doing anything even remotely important. You just liked fucking with people, and you didn't like these kinds of people thinking they could walk over you, especially the occasional creepy old fucks that you encountered.

Rafe's jaw clenched at your blatant dismissal of him, the room falling silent—save for the TV and lewd acts echoing off the walls—for a moment as he fidgeted impatiently. "Customer service here is real nice," he said sarcastically, planting his palms on the desk and leaning forward.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, closing the magazine and tossing it onto the desk before settling back in the chair and looking him over. He was hotter than the usual patrons that frequented this establishment, his biceps glittering as the thin sheen of sweat on his skin caught the light.

"You want a room or not?" You asked, eyes boring into his sharp blue ones. He clearly thought his intimidating presence alone was enough to get you to bend to his every whim, but you'd dealt with guys like him, and worse, since you were like five years old. The whole macho routine was not new to you, and frankly, you were tired of it.

"Obviously," he said, his tone clipped with annoyance. "What the fuck else would I be here for? Your lovely personality?" His gaze raked over you, taking in the sight of your glistening skin, the thin fabric of your shirt that left little to the imagination—he was pretty sure you werent even wearing a bra underneath, and your bare legs on the desk, crossed at the ankle.

"How charming," you deadpanned, his attitude not phasing you in the slightest as you leaned back and retrieved a key dangling from one of the hooks behind you. "You paying by the hour or..." Your gaze flickered back to him, the question lingering in the air. He didn't look like the type that needed to pay for sex, but maybe his delightful personality drove most women away.

"By the night," he replied curtly, looking like he wanted to say something else but decided against it. He dug into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a wad of cash. He peeled off some bills and tossed them onto the desk haphazardly. "Keep the change."

"Whatever, dude," you shrugged, pulling your legs off the desk to sit up properly and grab his money. In the process, something on the TV caught your eye, a breaking news report about a cop killer that was spotted a few towns over.

Rafe followed your gaze, his jaw clenching as he saw his picture flashed onto the screen. His mind started to run through every possible option. He couldn't let you call the cops and report him, but did he really want another body under his belt.

"Huh," you said, your brows furrowing as you looked between him and the man in front of you. "That guy kinda looks like you," you hummed before shrugging, brushing it off without a care in the world. You didn't care whether he killed a cop or the president. As long as he ran off to his room and left you alone, you wouldn't have a problem. "Anyway, here's your key," you tossed it onto the desk, getting up to put the money in the safe.

His brows furrowed, expression guarded as he glared at your figure. Were you playing dumb until he left, so you could call the cops, or were you genuinely an idiot? He watched you bend down, his gaze immediately falling to the way your shorts pulled up and revealed the underside of your ass to him—a fact you were either unaware of or indifferent to.

You punched in the code and put the money inside before closing it. You were surprised, and a little annoyed, to see him still standing there when you stood back up and turned around. "Did you need something else?" You asked, your tone indicating that you were clearly uninterested in helping him with anything else he may need.

He hesitated, staring intently at you for a long pause, as if he was trying to read you. Ultimately, he decided you were more trouble than you were worth, so he just turned on his heels and walked away without giving you an answer.

"I hate this fucking job," you muttered under your breath, plopping back down in the office chair and grabbing your magazine while you attempted to get comfortable for another five long hours until your dad came back and took over.

It wasn't but an hour later that the bell above the door chimed again, making you audibly groan. Could you not have a moment of peace? You look up from your spot, rolling your eyes when the sheriff walked in with his hoity toity, high and mighty attitude.

"Sheriff," you greeted flatly, watching him approach the desk with his thumbs hooked in his belt. He looked like an idiot.

He said your name in a low drawl, the two of you having become quite familiar. It was quite often that you ran into the sheriff and his deputies, considering the kind of no questions asked establishment your father was running here. "You seen the news lately?"

"Does it look like I watch the news?" You asked, your gaze unwavering and your voice dripping with apathy. Obviously, you had seen the news, but you weren't about to give a cop what he wanted, especially not when that cop was Sheriff Swanson—the biggest pain in your ass since your father.

Sheriff Swanson's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. He didn't like your attitude, he never had, but he knew better than to push his luck with you because you sat around all day, bored out of your mind. He knew you'd jump at the chance to pick a fight with anyone, especially him. Instead, he pulled out a photo from his pocket and slapped it down on the desk. "Recognize this guy?"

You hummed, glancing down at the photo briefly. It was the same guy from the news that was now residing in room 212. "Nah, never seen that man before in my life," you shrugged, completely disinterested. You weren't a snitch, and besides, your dad would have a conniption if he found out you went talking to the cops about one of the customers because it would 'ruin your reputation' as if the reputation of this place wasn't in the shitter already.

He searched your face, trying to detect any hint of a lie, but your expression was utterly blank, bored even. With a frustrated sigh, he snatched the photo back. "You sure about that? 'Cause I got a tip that he checked in not too long ago."

You laughed mockingly. "And you believe anything anyone here says? They'd frame their mamas for a packet of smokes and crumpled dollar bill," you scoffed, wondering who would have possibly called the cops. Half the people here were engaging in illegal activities, risking a police raid was a stupid fucking move.

"Well, if he does show up, you call me. Understand?" Sheriff Swanson ordered, stabbing a finger at you. He was clearly annoyed. Most of the people in this town bent to his will like he walked on water or something but not you or your dad. You two were considered outsiders because of your nonchalant attitude and seedy business dealings.

"Oh, so I'm doing your job for you now, Swanson?" You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You want me to put on a little shiny gold star and citizen's arrest him?" That stupid fucking gold badge really pissed you off for some reason. What did he think this was? An old western film? It was time to retire the glorified cowboy hat and supervillain mustache. It wasn't cool ten years ago when he became sheriff, and it's not cool now.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling," he growled, his voice low and threatening. "This ain't no joke. That man's dangerous."

"Oh my gosh, a bad guy... whatever will I do?" You deadpanned, kicking your feet back up and grabbing your magazine, already bored with the conversation. You were hoping he would tire of your oh-so-witty and charming banter and just leave, so you could go back to dying of heat stroke and boredom without his grating voice in your ear.

"I swear to god, girl," he growled, slamming his hands down on the desk to scare you, but you didn't even flinch. You just turned the page of your magazine calmly. "You're as infuriating as your old man." He glared at you, clearly wanting to reach across the desk and throttle you.

"Unless you got a warrant, you can go," you said impassively, your eyes scanning the fashion page and debating whether you could pull that skirt off or not, clearly expecting the sheriff to see himself out.

Sheriff Swanson clenched his fists, glaring at you for a long moment. It infuriated him how dismissive you always were, but there was nothing he could do about it since freedom of speech meant you weren't technically breaking the law. "This ain't over," he spat before turning on his heel and stalking out, the bell chiming angrily as he shoved the door open.

"Uh huh," you hummed as he slammed the door behind him aggressively. "Men," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You hoped that no one else would bother you, but you could only be so lucky. Unfortunately, you seemed to be very popular today, and the heat was making you bitchier than usual—not that you were that much less bitchy on a normal day.

Not fifteen minutes later, the man from the news walked back into the office, and you were sure that you were going to be on the news next if people didn't stop waltzing in here and demanding your attention. It wasn't like you were doing anything that particularly interested you. You just hated drama, and that was all the people of this town ever seemed to bring here.

"Whatever you want, I don't have it," you said the moment the door flung open. Your father told you to work the desk, so that's what you intended to do. Catering to the sleazy whims of all the customers that came in was not your job description.

"Why didn't you rat me out to the cops?" He asked, cutting right to this chase, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you shift a little in your seat. He ignored your attitude, and seemingly, the remarks you made earlier, now just curious.

You shrugged nonchalantly, placing the magazine down for what seemed to be the millionth time in the span of an hour. "Because I couldn't care less about you or whatever you did."

"You should," he said menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping forward, clearly trying to scare you. Your eyes caught the movement of his biceps flexing before flicking back up to his face.

"Oh, please, spare me," you rolled your eyes, not the least bit intimidated by him.

"I killed someone," he tried to get you to see the gravity of the situation. He didn't like that you weren't afraid, that you didn't seem to care at all. "And you're sitting here acting like this is a fucking game?"

"I killed a man once," you said sincerely, watching his brows shoot up in surprise. "Nah, I'm just fucking with you," you snorted, cracking a smile for the first time since he'd met you, not that he'd known you all that long.

"Funny," he replied dryly, taking another step closer. His tall frame loomed over you, and you had to crane your neck to look up at him.

"Whatever," you breathed out, clearly finding yourself hilarious, even if he didn't. "Listen, I'm not gonna tell Sheriff Shithead or anyone else that you're here," you reassured him, still having hope that maybe he would fuck off and leave you alone. "Now, go find someone else to bother," you waved him off, standing from your seat and walking over to the vending machine in the corner.

You were unbelievably hot, the sweat coating your skin making you uncomfortable and sticky, which wasn't helping. You also couldn't deny that your temperature had gone up significantly when the man—whose name was Rafe, if you recalled correctly from the news report—walked in. Just because you didn't want anything to do with the trouble Rafe clearly left in his wake, didn't mean you were blind.

"You're not gonna ask why I killed her?" He asked curiously, following you over to the vending machine. If a murderer had shown up on his doorstep, he'd be a little more inclined to ask what happened. He watched you intently as you pressed the button for a cold soda, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. He had to admit, you were hot as hell, even if you were insufferably annoying.

"How many times do I have to say 'I don't care' before people really start to get the message?" You huffed, stepping back and waiting for the soda to fall, but it never did. "Goddamn machine," you cursed, balling your hand into a fist and hitting the front of the machine hard. Almost instantly, the clanging of aluminum on metal rung out. "Aha," you rejoiced triumphantly, bending down to grab the can from the tray.

He watched as you grabbed the soda, then watched as you brought it to your lips and tilted your head back. His eyes dropped to your exposed neck, admiring the long column of your throat as you swallowed. This whole murderer thing had really taken its toll, and he hadn't got any in what felt like weeks, which felt like an eternity for someone like Rafe who loved sex.

You pulled the can away, looking over at him with furrowed brows as your tongue darted out to lick your lips. "You're really just gonna loom over me like a fucking weirdo while I work?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'd hardly call sitting around and reading magazines all day 'working'," he scoffed, crossing his arms again. It's like he wanted to draw attention to his biceps, and damn, it was working.

"Fine, you really gonna loom over me like a fucking weirdo while I don't work?" You corrected, mirroring his actions and crossing your arms, the can dangling from your fingertips as you shot him a look.

"I'm not looming," he said defensively, taking a step back as if to prove that he wasn't. "I'm just standing here, talking to you. Why, is it bothering you?" He smirked mischievously, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes. You seemed to do that a lot, ever exasperated by every word that left everyone else's mouths.

"Yes, actually, it is," you said flatly, sitting on the edge of the desk and setting the half-consumed soda beside you. You stared at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze as you once again, crossed your arms. If he was gonna taunt you with his biceps and smart ass comments, you were gonna taunt him with your tits. Two could definitely play it that game.

His eyes immediately dropped to your chest, his gaze lingering on the way your arms pressed your boobs together, accentuating them. Your lack of a bra definitely wasn't helping, your nipples straining against the thin fabric. Damn, he loved a good pair of tits, and even through your shirt, he could tell you definitely had some of the best he'd ever seen.

"My eyes are up here, Rafe," you snapped, drawing his attention back to your face. He was a bit taken aback by you saying his name, seeing as he hadn't provided it to you, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't sound fucking hot coming from those pretty lips of yours.

"I know where your eyes are," he smirked, not looking the least bit ashamed as his gaze slowly dragged back up to your face, pausing at your lips before meeting your eyes.

"Perving on the girl who can send you to a federal penitentiary with one phone call isn't a wise move," you tsked, planting your palms on the desk behind you and leaning back casually, eyeing him. You didn't mind his eyes on you. In fact, you kind of liked it, but you liked being a pain in the ass more.

"And what're you gonna do, hmm?" He asked, taking a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. He could practically feel the heat radiating from your body as he loomed over you. "Turn me in?" He scoffed, his smirk never wavering.

"You seemed pretty worried about it earlier," you pointed out, tilting your head to look up at him with a confident grin. You had a no getting involved rule, but you were quite literally hot and bothered right now, so maybe you could make an exception just this once.

"Well, that was before you made it clear that you 'don't care' as you so enthusiastically put it" he said, his voice dropping to a lower octave as he reached out, his fingertips trailing along your collarbone. "You're not gonna tell on me, are you, sweetheart?" He asked mockingly, knowing full well that you wouldn't, especially not after what he was about to do to you.

"Maybe I will," you said lowly, looking up at him with a challenging glint in your eye. "What are you gonna do about it, huh?"

He leaned down, his breath ghosting over your lips as he spoke. "I'm gonna shut you up," he said, his hand reaching up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your eyes widen. You looked up at him, still no trace of fear in your eyes as your lips parted at the feeling.

He leaned in, his mouth crashing against yours in a rough, needy kiss, his hand tightening slightly around your throat. He kissed you like he was starving, like he'd been deprived of oxygen, and he needed you more than he needed his next breath.

His other hand gripped your thigh tightly, pulling you to the edge of the desk, so he could press himself against you. You moaned into the kiss, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth and him manhandling you enough to make your head spin.

He swallowed your moan, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of your mouth. The hand on your thigh slid upwards, his rough fingertips digging into your soft flesh. He was so hard it almost hurt, his cock straining against the denim as he ground against you.

"You should lock the door," you mumbled into his mouth, a little annoyed that his hair was buzzed, so you could run your fingers through it.

"Who cares?" He growled back, his teeth sinking into your neck as his hand slid up higher, brushing the hem of your little shorts. "You're letting a wanted fugitive fuck you. I'd be willing to bet you like the risk."

You let out a breathy moan, your head tilting to the side to allow him better access as your nails raked gently along his scalp. "Asshole," you muttered, not appreciating his rude, but accurate, assessment of you.

"Mhm," he hummed against your neck, his hand sliding higher to hook into the waistband of your shorts. "You like that, though, don't you?" You didn't reply, instead, shifting to help him slide off your shorts and underwear. You weren't really interested in small talk right now.

He groaned at your eagerness, his hand leaving you momentarily to quickly undo his belt and free himself from the confines of his jeans. If you didn't want to waste time with foreplay, he sure as hell wasn't going to fight you on that. After all, he was kind of on borrowed time. He didn't know how long it would be before the cops came back here looking for him.

He grabbed your thighs again, roughly spreading your legs apart and positioning himself between them. With one swift motion, he buried his hard length inside you, a loud groan escaping you as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate the intrusion. You let out a sound between a gasp and a moan, your hand gripping his big bicep for purchase as he thrust into you at a dizzying pace.

He set a brutal rhythm, pounding into you with no care for gentleness. He was too far gone, too desperate for the feeling of being inside you. His hand came up to wrap around your throat again, using it as leverage as he drove his hips forward, causing a needy whine to force it's way past your lips. The burn from him stretching your tight walls coupled with the pleasure of him fucking and choking you had you practically on cloud nine.

"Shit, look at you. This sweet little pussy was made for my dick," he groaned, seeing the look of pure ecstacy on your face as your walls seemed to pull him in with each thrust.

His own face was scrunched up in concentration, his jaw clenched as he fought to hold back. He wanted this to last. He wanted to brand himself into your memory so you'd think of him every time you sat in this office, every time you laid down to sleep, every time you touched yourself in the shower. He wanted you to remember how you let a murderer defile you.

You were a mess of moans and whines as his tip repeatedly hit your g-spot, knocking the breath from your lungs with each thrust. Sure, you'd been fucked before, but never like this, never with a guy that could probably put you in a headlock and choke you out—and you'd probably like it. He was good, and he knew it.

He smirked arrogantly, his hand around your throat tightening slightly. "I'm gonna fill this needy little pussy so full, gonna make you remember that you're a dirty fucking girl for letting me do this to you," he said lowly, his words holding a vaguely threatening edge, but you didn't care. They only served to turn you on more, pushing you closer to your peak as his thumb slid down to play with your sensitive clit.

He could tell you were close, your breath hitching every time he bottomed out inside of you. He groaned as his movements grew jerky, his own finish nearing. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel this greedy cunt squeeze my cock."

"Shit, Rafe," you moaned, your nails digging painfully into his bicep as your walls clamped down around him, your release washing over you. The feeling of your walls bearing down around him triggered his own orgasm, hitting him like a freight train. His vision practically blurred as he emptied himself deep inside of you, his cock pulsing with each spurt. He held you in place, his hand around your throat, as he rode out his climax, painting your insides with his cum.

"Fuck," you panted, your head tilting back and eyes fluttering closed as you caught your breath. Maybe this job had a certain... charm. Though, it was only just now occurring to you that you let this man cum inside you, and he didn't even know your name.

He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, his softening cock twitching with the aftershocks. Then, with a grunt, he pulled out and tucked himself away without another word, not that you expected much from a guy who was so eager to give you a quick fuck on a desk where anyone could have found you.

You hopped off the desk, retrieving your underwear and shorts to slip them back on, trying to ignore the feeling of his cum seeping out of you. You definitely needed a long shower and maybe a moment of silent reflection after what you just did.

He watched you dress with a critical eye, his gaze lingering on your body, as if committing it to memory. "Guess I should be going before the cops decide to come knocking again," he said casually, as if he hadn't just fucked you senseless.

"Guess so," you said, your seemingly apathetic attitude returning as you crossed your arms and regarded him with that same uninterested look that you'd given him when he first walked in here. You knew what you were getting into. You weren't an idiot. He was still on the run from the cops, and you were still just a motel worker in bumfuck nowhere.

He gave you a nod, his expression unreadable as he turned and strode to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "You didn't tell me your name," he commented, his voice low. He wasn't sure why he cared. The chances of seeing you again were abysmal, but he was curious.

"No, I didn't," you said flatly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, threatening to betray your nonchalant demeanor.

He studied your face for a moment, trying to decide if he should press the issue or just leave. Something about you, about this moment felt... important. He couldn't quite place the odd but distinctive feeling, but still, he found himself saying, "Next time you see me, I expect you to tell me your name."

You raised an eyebrow at his presumptuous words. You hardly expected to see him again, given the whole fugitive thing, but you decided to humor him. "If I see you again, I will."

He nodded, seeming to accept your response, before turning and leaving without another word, the door shutting a little harsher than he intended behind him. As he walked to the car he'd stolen to keep the cops off his ass, he couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter, this girl, meant something more than just a quick fuck in the office of a seedy motel.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind

[brucewaynehater101]

So turns out that while Talia and Bruce were on an off stage in their on and off again, why won't you join the evil cult? why won't you leave the evil cult? relationship, Talia happened across an absolutely lovely archaeologist who was looking into local folklore in an effort to find some hint regarding a lost tomb. Talia was intrigued because when she listened to the archaeologist's findings, she realized the archaeologist was veering very close to not a tomb but one of her father's back up pits.

Now, Talia could just kill the archaeologist, destroy the research, and move on. She could sabotage the research and move on.

But the archaeologist was really, really pretty. Talia was feeling a little low and in the mood for a rebound.

So Janet and Talia had a fling. Talia adjusts Janet's research so that rather than leading Janet to a lazarus pit, Janet will be led to the tomb of one of Ra's old enemies that her father respected but also disliked enough that he left the enemy dead. He'd stopped sending ninja to maintain the tomb a few centuries ago so Talia figured it was fair game.

Janet becomes Talia's regular rebound when Talia and Bruce are between dramatic semi relationship. Janet breaks it off after she found out she was pregnant with her husband's child. Talia sulked but respected the break up since fortunately it was at a point when Talia was back on her thing with Bruce. She figured that she could always seduce Janet again later.

The later come but Talia discovers Janet's death. She is incensed. Janet was not her Beloved but Janet was hers. She would decide when one of hers was allowed to die!

So Talia does some casual grave robbing. Some magic may be involved in restoring the body.

And sometime later during the Brucequest, Tim finds his mother, dressed in silks, having been living as Talia's prisoner/girlfriend/head researcher of the LoA for the last few years after Talia brought her back from the dead. His mother is going to need some deprogramming but she's very happy to see her son and annoyed enough at the whole captivity thing, as well as the discovery of the downfall of Drake Industries which it turns out Talia lied to her about and had told her that Jack had been keeping things steady while Tim was studying to take over, to be very willing to help Tim blow things up. Janet is also very much not a fan of Ra's in general.

Okay okay. But now I'm imagining the conversation between Talia and Ra's.

Talia: "Father."

Ra's: "Yes, Talia?"

Talia: "I require LoA resources to bring back my lover."

Ra's: *assumes she's talking about Bruce* "Alright. Here's some tips as well."

Talia: "Thank you, Father."

~~ Later ~~

Talia: "Father."

Ra's: ".... And who's this?"

Talia: "My lover."

Ra's: *blinks rapidly in Janet's direction but won't admit he gave Talia resources under an incorrect assumption* "What about the Detective?"

Talia: *grimaces* "Beloved is... preoccupied."

Ra's: "He's occupied with that cat woman, isn't he?"

Talia: *glares and stalks out of the room with Janet*

Anyways, Talia then spends a lot of time doting on Janet in her own ways. This includes them traveling together (though Janet has no access to outside technology, information, or people to ask for help). Janet probably could've escaped, but Talia reassured her Tim and Jack were fine.

Drake Industries went under, Jack is dead, and Tim is Robin (or now Red Robin). This is not what Janet would describe as fine >:(

[a-spes]

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - part two (4.070 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Men & minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, nothing else for the moment (I think?)

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

When Natasha realised that you left nothing to her, taking even her cheque book, she had to call her sister, asking her to come and pay for her. Even if she tried to be as nice as she could in such a situation, she couldn’t keep her words from being harsh.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so humiliated. Natasha Romanoff, known as one of the most successful entrepreneurs of her generation, having to explain to the waiter that she can’t pay, having to ask her sister for money. It is something that shouldn’t have happened, something that needed to be repaired. 

If one thing was sure, it’s that Yelena has not been happy to be woken up by her sister’s bad mood, but she complied with her request without questioning it, knowing better than to argue with her eldest. 

“Don’t you dare to say a word", she warned when she eventually saw the blonde approaching the table.

She had been sitting here for almost an hour, waiting for her sister who decided to take her time. It was a childish way of avenging the brutal awakening she underwent, and the redhead would certainly have laughed if she wasn’t already irritated, and the youngest’s attitude only made it worse.

On the contrary, when Yelena saw her sister sitting at the table, she forgot about her bitterness, realizing how funny the situation was. She never could’ve imagined her sister calling her because she needed money. She is one of the richest people that exist on earth, and one of the most far-sighted at the same time. She always has her phone, at least two cards, her cheque book, and an absurd amount of cash, just in case.

The smile that grows on her face as she realizes how improbable the situation is earns her a slap on the back of the head, and Natasha never holds back her strength.

“Ouch!" She said, rubbing where she was hit, “it hurts!” She complained, but her sister doesn’t seem to care. In a second, the smile disappeared, giving way to a dark look.

“Shut up", the redhead said, rolling her eyes. She knows her sister as the back of her hand, and she also knows that the strength she put in that slap wasn’t enough to hurt her. She probably barely felt it, and is just too much of a cry baby sometimes. Something that’s pissing off the redhead that is in no mood for that kind of game. “Shut up, or you’ll learn what real pain is", she added, not even trying to hide the threat behind her words.

“You’ve no right to snap at me when I came all the way just to help you", she protested, and if they both knew she was right, her words were greeted by a simple sigh from the redhead who ran her hand over her face. No apologies, just silence. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she witnessed her sister in such a state of distress, but she knows that nothing good came out of it. If she enjoys it when the oldest terrifies her men, she fears the incensed decisions she will inevitably make.

She could burn the whole city if she wanted to.

And Natasha has to admit that the thought crossed her mind a few times while she was waiting for the blonde to show up. She was barely able to control her anger, and couldn’t help but bounce her right leg under the table while her fingers were tapping on the table. But none of these actions helped to calm her nerves.

“I abandoned really important things, you know”, she added, as she took her wallet out of her pocket to put it in her sister’s hand. She had outstretched it toward her, and Yelena didn’t need words to understand what the redhead wanted. “All of that because you forgot your wallet …", she mumbled under her breath, but obviously the other heard it.

“I didn’t forget my wallet, it has been stolen”, she muttered, as if it could make the situation less embarrassing, as if she hoped her sister wouldn’t hear, but none of these statements turned out to be true. 

“You’re joking, right?” she asked back, not believing the oldest. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone if that’s the case”, she added, sure that her sister was lying to her in an attempt to hide what she probably considered as a weakness.

That’s what her sister always does. Most of the time, she is perfect, but when she inevitably makes mistakes, she always finds excuses. She blames her men, runs away, or pretends it has never happened, and Yelena feels like it’s exactly what’s happening right now. She is thinking that her sister has forgotten her wallet, but doesn't want to admit it. 

Maybe because the idea of Natasha being robbed sounds unbelievable.

“I am not lying, someone stole me”, she said again, and her sister better not make her repeat it a third time because she will really lose her temper this time. Everytime she said it out loud, it only made it a bit more real, as if she couldn’t quite believe it before. But the realization is now sinking in, and she feels like she is becoming crazy with all the thoughts that are crossing her mind at the moment. “They took everything", she angrily added, throwing the empty wallet on the table, only for the youngest to check.

And her sister was right. They took everything, not leaving a single penny. The blonde was so shocked that she didn’t even know how to react.

“But … who’s stupid enough to steal things from The Natasha Romanoff?” She managed to ask, once the initial surprise had worn off, “and how did that even happen?” she added, looking at her sister who was now pacing up and down the terrace.

But she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, at least no today. Her sister was ignoring her voice, too busy mumbling things to herself, and she would probably be thrown over the edge if she interrupts, so she waited for them to be in the car to talk again.

She didn’t even complain when the oldest stole her keys, deciding that she will be the one to drive without even asking first. The blonde slipped in the passenger seat, muttering a few insults that Natasha pretends not to hear.

“So, what do you want us to do?” she eventually asked after they’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. She was looking at the redhead, the one who was staring at the road, lost in her thoughts. 

“Nothing,” she replied, and brought back to reality by the question, she started the car, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her sister’s face. 

“Nothing?” she repeated, “so you’re just going to let them go away when they robbed you?” she continued, and the lack of reaction from her sister made her want to shake her sister to get her thinking straight.

“Nothing yet” she corrected her, putting an end to Yelena’s protests. Despite what the other may think, she doesn’t intend to let the culprit be forgiven. It has never been her intention, and she knows exactly what to do to get every penny back.

When she notices the determination in the eyes of the oldest, she knew the next months were going to be interesting. She smirks at the thought.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

This time was the last. 

That’s what you said to yourself after every theft, and it has never been true, because you never earned enough to get out of this situation. What you were stealing was usually just enough for you to survive a few weeks, and even if you kept telling that to yourself, you stopped believing that it could become a reality. 

It was nothing more than a dream, you head knew it, even if your heart never stopped dreaming about a future brighter than your present. Every night, the day you would eventually be out of misery was the last thing you were thinking about, and you spent hours imagining how it would look like. 

You wanted an apartment that would be big enough to welcome the friends you would have made, and a job that you appreciate, but about which you would still complain. 

At first, it was only about stealing the essentials, a jumper or an apple for which you would feel guilty for days. It’s when you stopped fearing that someone would catch you that you’ve started to think bigger. The few people who witnessed your theft generally decided that they weren’t paid enough to come after you, a little girl isn't worth their energy.

The years have gone by, and if the number of your victims increased, your wealth hasn’t. That’s when you realized that stealing money from the tourists in the street was not what would give you a better life, and decided to go after the richest people on the earth, the ones that probably wouldn’t even notice if you’d taken a few hundred dollars from their wallet.

One day, you’ll be making so much money that you will be able to pay for your debts.

Slowly, this need to survive has turned into a need for a life where you would have something to call yours. You didn’t want something to eat, you wanted an apartment. You didn’t want stolen clothes, you wanted something bought with your own money. Even a cup or a pen would be enough, as long as you could claim it as yours. 

One day, you’ll deserve everything you have.

You stopped stealing almost two years ago, when you eventually raised enough money to start a new life, and the dream became a reality. It took you a lot of time and effort, but you eventually got exactly where you’ve been dreaming of being since your teenage years.

It was thanks to the inattention of this woman who hadn’t blocked her card when it was stolen, neither she declared her cheque book stolen, allowing you to use it as you wished for months. Usually, your victims are quick to solve the problem, leaving you only with the few notes you stole from their wallets.

But this time, you were left with more money than you ever had, more than enough to buy a ticket to another city, and still being able to buy essential supplies after. You could leave, rent a room for a few weeks, just until you find a job and get your first pay, you could even buy some new clothes, and you would still have enough money.

At first, you thought there was a catch, but the days have gone by, they became weeks, months, then years, and if the card and the cheque book never stopped working, nothing bad happened. No one ever knocked at your door, no letter got sent, and the feeling of dread you felt every time you paid has finally disappeared.

Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t even notice. Maybe there was a problem that never got fixed. Maybe it’s just taking a lot of time. You have no idea, but you can’t help but wonder why, thinking about all the reasons that must have led to that situation.

It is fate. 

That’s what a part of your mind is whispering to you, and you ask nothing more than being able to believe it, the other part trying to understand the situation without being able to make sense of it. Even after two years, the question was still in the back of your mind, and you’re almost sure that you could still use the card if you wanted to.

But you don’t, because you made a promise to yourself. You swore that, the moment you would earn enough money to support yourself, you would stop using hers. It has been a bit more than a year since you found your job, and this part of your life feels so foreign now. The only reminder of your past is that box, where you’re keeping all the cards, cheque books, and wallets you once stole. The one that’s hidden in your closet, where no one could see it, not even yourself. The one that contains a past you want to forget about. 

You now have a job, an apartment, and you even made some friends on the way. They’re good people, hanging out with them makes you feel like you are too. They never asked questions about where you’re coming from, because they don’t need to know, they’re just appreciating you as you are. The grown-up version of who you were once.

When late at night guilt gnaws at your mind, you’re thinking about their compliments. When the sadness at the thought of your younger self never being loved that way, your memories with them remind you that you succeed to become someone that can be loved.

Someone that deserves everything she has.

There is only one person that had glimpses of who you were, and it’s Kate Bishop. Even if you’ve tried to keep your secrets away from her, it’s hard to do so when you’re spending all your days and nights with someone so curious.

Kate is a coworker, a roommate, but mostly your closest friend. It’s not because she understands you more than anyone else. It’s because she never makes a big deal of anything, and you know nothing you could tell her about you would change the way she acts around you. This girl is everything you want to be: free and happy.

Someone that doesn’t care about social norms. 

She would sneak into your room in the middle of the night just because she heard you cry. She wouldn’t even ask questions about the reasons behind the tears, only complaining about how thin the walls are, and how she can’t sleep because of that. 

She would go through your belongings when she needs something but she can’t ask you because you’re not home, only telling you when she gives the objects back.

She would answer your phone when it’s ringing while you’re in another room or your hands busy, holding the conversation as if the calls were intended for her. 

That’s how she discovered you were looking for a new place to stay. You’ve only been coworkers for a few months when she answered your phone. It was the social worker who called to tell you that you’ll have to move out of your flat within the next weeks because you no longer meet the criterias.

Your first reaction was to yell at Kate. It has been the first and only time you’ve done it, usually not minding when she does it. 

But this time it was different: you were scared. You didn’t know her a lot at that time, and you were fearing that this call would destroy the relationship you had started to build. You put so much effort into pretending that everything was fine, and had always been that way, that you thought the truth coming out would ruin everything.

She was the first relationship that you didn’t build on lies, at least not on the big ones. She also has been the first to be able to hold a conversation with you for a while. Not Lydia, or any name you might have borrowed by the past, but just y/n.

When you’ve spent your whole life lying, it’s not easy to know who you are.

It was a bad habit that you had a hard time quitting, still having the urge to lie about some details. Maybe to appear as a more interesting person, maybe because you are afraid to disappoint them. 

No, it’s because it’s comforting.

It’s what gave you a bit of hope, what gave you the impression that you had a normal life. You’ve never been interested in living the marvelous lives of your alias, you just wanted a normal one for you. Maybe if you tell these stories a lot of time, your mind will accept them as reality. 

Over the years, lying became more than a habit: it was an addiction. You felt bad every time you lied to the black-haired, even if it was only about small and insignificant things, like your favourite colour, but you couldn’t just stop. It’s only that day that you realised that it might ruin everything between the two of you.

Everything has been so easy since you met Kate. You never felt like you were too much, or in the wrong place, because she always made sure to integrate you into the team, and you’re still regretting the words that fell from your lips that day. 

She was the first genuine friend you’ve made, and that’s how you thanked her kindness, with snide remarks that she didn’t deserve.

For a minute, you saw yourself back there. In that lonely and miserable place.

But she didn’t get angry. Nor for the lies, nor for the horrible things you said. She didn’t look at you with pity, but with something that was closer to surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand your reaction, but knew enough to not judge. That’s when she asked you to be her flatmate.

Kate was the first one to learn about your favourite colour, the real one, and all your daily habits. From your favourite thing to eat for breakfast to the time you get up, she knows things you never thought you would share with someone one day. Kate has been the first one to see y/n. The one that doesn’t wear any mask, the one that does not need to pretend she is someone else.

Then, it was your turn.

Tonight, when you’re looking in the mirror, the only thing you can see is your smile. A bright, and big one. Even with makeup on, you are not looking or feeling as anyone else than yourself. Every choice has been made by you to suit your taste. 

“Are you done yet?” She asked, and you could hear Kate’s muffled voice through the bathroom’s door, “we’re going to be late!” She complained for what’s probably the tenth time in the last quarter, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was stamping her foot on the other side of the door, throwing a tantrum like a child.

“Isn’t it what celebrities are supposed to do?” you replied, a smug smile on your face as you eventually opened the door after spending more than an hour in the room. 

Everything needs to be perfect, and perfection demands time, something your impatient roommate doesn’t seem to agree with. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, she grabbed your arm.

“That’s not funny!” she exclaimed as she started dragging you toward the entrance. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at her attitude.

You know that the real reason behind her actions isn’t a concern for punctuality, Kate always being late, but just a result of her excitement for the evening that’s coming: some friends of hers are going to play music in a bar, and she doesn’t want to miss even a second of the show. A simple glance at the clock confirms what you were thinking: you’re not late. 

But you also know it’s useless to argue with the black haired woman when she is in that state of mind, so you just go along with it, letting your friend drag you toward the entrance. You have just enough time to grab your bag before you leave the apartment.

You are too focused on your footsteps to be listening to her rambling about the coming party, trying to not trip on your own feet. But she isn’t listening to you either, deaf to your pleas for her to slow down, or to let go of your arm, and it’s only when you arrive at the said bar that you get your freedom back. 

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

She never forgot.

She has been thinking about what happened that night every day since. The years have gone by, but it never left her mind, and picturing all the ways in which she could get back what you owe her was soothing her to sleep every night.

Despite her impatience, she took her time, waiting for the moment you would’ve forgotten about her, when you would let your guard down, thinking that your past mistakes had been forgotten, and forgiven. Maybe your previous victims did, but she has nothing in common with these guys, and chasing you wasn’t about the money. It was about dignity.

She needed to make you feel the same shame that she had that morning. 

Some of her associates don’t understand her obsession, even her sister sometimes suggested that she let it go, fearing that it would jeopardize the company. But she stayed firm; you started a game that night, and she is not the kind that appreciates losing.

She is determined to show you that two can play that game.

It wasn’t difficult to track you down. The only obstacle had been the false identity you built for yourself, but it had only been a matter of months before she found you, there was no way she couldn’t recognize your face on the security tape. It was in the middle of the night, one of those where she couldn’t sleep, and eventually decided that she would rather look for you instead of tossing and turning in her bed, consumed by her thoughts.

That’s when she found it, a footage from a shop’s security camera where your face appeared. You were nothing like the woman she met at the party, from your hair to the way you were moving, you definitely had none of Lydia’s elegance, and she couldn’t even understand how you’ve been able to pretend to be her, and how you’ve possibly been good enough to fool her, The Natasha Romanoff.

But despite the numerous differences, she was sure it was you on that video. There were details you couldn’t change, and the shape of your jaw was one of them. She could still see your face as she had you pinned beneath her that night, her fingers running along your cheeks, wishing that moment would last forever. 

Since then, she kept collecting these videos as a kid would collect cards, watching them regularly. The footage made everything make sense, and you seemed closer than ever as she kept hitting the replay button.

She had to admit that you are smart, but not smart enough, and everytime you used the card was one more clue guiding her in the right direction. At first, she was able to track your movements, it only took her a few more weeks before she discovered your identity, and more importantly, learned about your past.

A few weeks, that’s all it took, yet she had waited several years before going after you, deciding it was the right time only when you started building a new life for yourself. You moved to a city where no one knew your name, you got a normal job, and haven’t stolen since. You even made some friends. You got the life you have probably dreamed about since your teenage years, and she knew that perfectly. 

She also knew that the moment she would break your illusion of peace, and steal your hope of a better life, you’ll be heartbroken. Hopeless.

She saw how, as the years went by, you started to be less cautious, thinking that your past mistakes were nothing more than faded memories in your mind. She saw how you eventually stopped looking around every time you were going out, how you started opening up to your friends, seeming to forget about what you have done. 

But she didn’t forget, and she promised herself that you wouldn’t either. It’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes, isn’t it? 

She started the car when she saw you, and Kate, disappear round the corner. You were obviously out for the night, and it was the perfect opportunity. No one would pay attention to the disappearance of a girl, not in a crowded, dark place that reeked of alcohol and illegal substances.

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| tag list - @thalia-is-not-ok / @tobiaslut

[thoughtsonkm]

Bye Jeju, you've been good..

Eyes always on the prize Jungkookssii mm

The trio was really wholesome in some moments but I'm so ready for Jikook's cozy winter times. It's literally their default setting.

This type of lighthearted mood and way of talking about the topic brings me peace for them. They looked relieved and confident in their choice to stay together. I don't know if they actually knew since September about the lottery verdict or they were just manifesting real hard ahead of time because in their mind there's no way they're separating (like no we don't accept any other answer than being together) but either way what matters is the result and their content feeling.

The way Tae was on the phone the whole time like 'yeah I've heard your enlistment talk 348392 times already' 😂 There really is a sort of "danger" to them having only one extra person on the table cause they get too engulfed in each other. They need a big group when they go out or else 1-2 ppl will feel kinda alienated lol

Jimin in this dark flannel fit got the whole fandom in shambles and rightfully so.

~

Gotta say every time Jimin entertains Jungkook going on and on about topics he knows/has info about, my fondness for them reaches a whole new peak 🥹

~

I get they were trying to display their strength with their typical pool shenanigans but Jungkook?? You need to chill man there's plenty of other ways to "help a man from drowning" 😂(could this type of insane underwater hair grab be considered bf privileges? lol)

This towel scene is so 'boys' coded but also a little frisky you feel me? It just has that vibe you know..

This episode's cuddle was kinda my favourite so far tbh (the CT one is in its own hall of fame given how it was more of a hungry feast than a cuddle). Idk why it just felt very soft, squishy and needy.

NOW THIS is a confirmation about the perilla leaf debacle. Kook was so careful about it I was dying laughing. It can be a risky choice HAHAHAHAHA

mimi 🤝🏻 cats kook 🤝🏻 dogs

WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR YOU, BABY I ADORE YOU 🎶

This scene was the funniest of the episode. The theatrics, the dramatics, the "asking for more sausage while Jimin was leaving". PEAK

The way he was worried about his taste buds lol. Food really is his #2 priority damn. (#1 being Jimin)

Btw this scene doesn't prove anything but the fact that their hyung-dongseang dynamic is almost ✨nonexistent✨.

~

I noticed they always look at the crew in front of them after smth happens or a joke or whatever. Instead they should look at the camera and break the fourth wall, it would be so funny.

~

He's been thinking about it since NYC your honor..

~

Out of topic but during 3 days in Jeju we could see them from time to time with a mic in their hands, especially Jimin, but they never showed any karaoke scenes. ROBBED

~

The suspense about Sapporo is not good for my liking. Like they don't need to make Japan more mystical than it is already, we know it's gonna be the softest thing ever.

Why so hush hush huh? I expect an announcement video by Sunday! (max. monday!)

Anyways..Sapporooo here we cooomeee

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

you loved and cared for eddie munson when you were 12 , now he hates you.

wc-2300 ish

pt 2 to bully eddie

Hawkins High School was far from picturesque. In your humble opinion, you despised it. At the age of 12, you had high hopes for high school - thinking it would be your golden age, your stepping stone to greatness. However, from freshman year onwards, you were miserable. Eddie Munson, two years your senior, made sure of that. He flunked his senior year not once, but twice, leaving you as his target for six long years. Eddie, the dungeon master of the hellfire club, was no stranger to bullying himself, but he took pleasure in tormenting you, the shy girl at Hawkins High. It was a shame that not even Eddie Munson would befriend you - you must have been a terrible person to be around.

"Peppy, please just consider this," Nancy pleaded. "It's your senior year, and we only have two weeks left of school. That's 10 days, 10 whole days you can really cherish." Peppy was your nickname, given to you because of your love for Dr. Pepper. You always had a can in hand, and Nancy and Robin couldn't resist calling you that. Despite your reluctance, Nancy had a way of convincing you to do things. She was like literal sunshine, impossible to resist. "Let me think about it, Nance. I can't afford to be humiliated again. Last year was miserable." Of course, you would think about it. Nancy's infectious energy always made you want to join in. "Nancy, can you please come over after school? Bring Robs, and we can discuss this. If I do decide to go, we'll have lots of planning to do." "Of course, see you later, Peppy."

"Rob's, guess what?!" you yell excitedly. "Please tell me you have amazing, awesome news like 'oh my god, the upside down caved in and disappeared,' that would heal me."

"Robin, no, shut up, someone's gonna hear you," you said, glancing around cautiously, hoping no one had heard what she said. Luckily, the halls were empty.

"What's the good news, Peppy?" Andy asked me to prom. Can you believe that? I mean, Robin, I am a freak. I'm a freak at heart. Eddie Munson won't even let me live it down. Robin, do you know how amazing this is?"

"Peppy, really? You're going with Andy? Like, Andy Andy?" Robin's mood matched yours.

"Yeah, Robbie, I'm so excited. I have my dress picked out and everything. It's pink with hints of red and red hearts embroidered on the sleeves," you explained.

"Oh my god, Peppy, that's so good! I'm so happy for you. This will be so, so, so fun. I can't wait. Make sure you let Nancy know. Oh my god, she's gonna be so happy we all get to go together. She's been begging and begging me to find a date," Robin told you.

"Okay, Rob, I'll see you after English. I'll give you a ride home. Love you."

"Love you too, Peppy."

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie Munson lurked around the corner, a scowl etched onto his face, his dark intentions hidden beneath a facade of resentment. He was determined to ensure you wouldn't have a good time at prom, hell-bent on sabotaging any joy you might find. For him, your happiness was an affront he couldn't tolerate, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure your night ended in misery.

"Heeey, Andy. I heard you're going to prom with Y/N," Eddie slyly interjected, his voice dripping with malice.

"Who?" Andy asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension brewing.

"Peppy... the freakazoid. Dude, you know who I'm talking about," Eddie replied, his tone laced with disdain.

"What's it to you, Munson? It's none of your business," Andy retorted, his confusion evident.

"No, it's not, but I'm just warning you to stay away. She's a weirdo," Eddie sneered, his words dripping with venom as he poisoned Andy's perception of you.

Draped in a delicate shade of light pink, you sat in your living room, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm hue over everything. Your mom fussed over you, capturing every angle with her camera, her voice filled with pride as she complimented how beautiful you looked. It was a moment of rare confidence, happiness, and contentment that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As the clock inched closer to 6 PM, the anticipation grew palpable. Andy, your prom date, was scheduled to pick you up at 8, and you couldn't help but nervously glance at the clock every few minutes. You had carefully chosen his pink tie with heart motifs, hoping he wouldn't be too embarrassed to wear it.

Meanwhile, Andy sat on his bed, staring blankly at the baggie of weed in his hand. Eddie's words echoed in his mind, poisoning his thoughts. "She's a freak, stay away from her unless you want to look like a freak too." The fear of being associated with you gnawed at him, and he made the cowardly decision to stay home, drowning his insecurities in drugs instead of facing you.

As the minutes ticked by and the clock struck 9 PM, doubt began to creep into your mind. Was Andy just running late, or was this all a cruel joke? You hesitantly dialed his number, your fingertips trembling with uncertainty. "Yello," Andy's voice crackled through the phone. "Hey Andy, it's me. I was just wondering when you're coming. You're still planning to come, right?" you asked, the hope evident in your voice. His response shattered your heart into a million pieces. "Yeah, no sorry. Munson got to me. You really are a freak," he muttered, his words like a knife through your heart. With tears welling up in your eyes, you hung up the phone, devastated by the realization that Eddie hates you , he hated you. silly you for thinking he’d let you have this one night to be happy.

as you sat in your last class of the day, a sense of relief washed over you knowing you didn't have a date for prom. The thought of spending the night with friends instead of navigating the awkwardness of a date brought a sense of calm.

But as you squirmed in your seat, eager to leave, Eddie's bitter tone shattered your moment of peace. "Could you stop fucking moving like that? I'm trying to write," he snapped, his words cutting through your thoughts like a knife.

Feeling a pang of anxiety, you stammered out an apology, your voice wavering with uncertainty. "Sorry, I'm just feeling anxious. Do you want me to move?" you offered, hoping to diffuse the tension.

"fuck yes, you annoy me anyway," Eddie retorted, his hostility palpable. "It's making me sick having to sit next to you."

Feeling a surge of humiliation, you quickly gathered your things and made your way across the classroom, retreating to the back in a desperate attempt to escape Eddie's ire.

Meanwhile, Eddie's heart pounded in his chest as he watched you move away. Memories of his behavior flooded his mind, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience. He hadn't spoken to you since he was 14.

But despite the remorse gnawing at him, Eddie couldn't bring himself to stop. His hatred for you, fueled by years of resentment and pain, consumed him. He needed to push you away, to make you feel the same hurt he had felt. It was a vicious cycle of pain and retribution, hes only protecting himself from getting hurt again. he wont let you hurt him again.

gloomy days at Hawkins Middle School were oddly your favorite. The prospect of spending time indoors with Eddie, playing music together in the classroom, always fueled your happiness. You dashed eagerly to the music room, eager to retrieve your guitars and dive into another session of music-making with Eddie.

As you approached the closet where your instruments were stored, your eyes fell upon your beloved pink guitar, perfectly sized and customized for you. Next to it lay Eddie's red guitar, adorned with hateful words spray-painted across its surface: "freak," "loser," "trailer trash," "ugly." Anger surged within you at the sight of Eddie's defaced instrument.

In a moment of impulsive fury, you reached for Eddie's guitar, lifting it from its confines and slamming it onto the floor with all your strength, over and over again until it lay shattered into pieces. Eddie had just entered the room, tears streaming down his face as he witnessed the destruction of the one thing he cared for deeply.

Despite your attempts to explain, Eddie refused to listen. He turned his back on you, shutting you out completely. From that day forward, Eddie remained a distant figure, a silent specter haunting the halls of your memories. he never spoke to you again. opting to make your life miserable instead

Underneath your bed sat the replica of the guitar you had painstakingly saved up for, a reminder of your failed attempt to mend your friendship with Eddie. It was too big for him, collecting dust as it remained untouched. You couldn't bring yourself to throw it away or return it, holding onto the hope that one day Eddie would open his heart and listen to your side of the story.

You were pretty sure you reeked of shitty spiked punch and pepperoni oil, a combination that only added to the cynicism creeping into your thoughts. Watching Robin dance with Vicky, the girl she'd been crushing on all year, should have filled you with happiness, but instead, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as Eddie Munson sauntered up to them. Why was he even here? Didn't he have better things to do?

"Peppy, you look so down. Can we get you anything?" Nancy's caring voice broke through your reverie, her concern evident in her gaze. "You know, I'll ask Jon to go to the diner right now to get you a burger. You look miserable, babe." Her offer was sweet, but you couldn't bring yourself to accept it, not when you caught sight of Eddie flaunting his presence with a bright flask, momentarily blinding you with its shine.

"No, Nance, I'm good. Please, just have fun," you managed to reply, mustering a weak smile as she ran off with Jonathan when "Time After Time" started playing.

The grunts and groans behind you drew your attention, and you turned to see Eddie being bombarded by school security. Curiosity getting the better of you, you intervened, asking shyly, "What's going on here?" while avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Mr. Munson here attempted to steal school property, miss," the security guard explained. Eddie rolled his eyes and dismissed you, but you couldn't ignore the pang in your chest at the mention of a guitar. Despite his protests, you watched as they escorted him away.

Feeling foolish yet determined, you knew you had to do something for him. Maybe this would finally make him leave you alone, or perhaps even apologize. Being in student council had its perks, including a set of keys with your name on them. In the darkness of the hallway, you located the guitar and grabbed it, hoping no one would see you as you made your way to the parking lot.

You approached Eddie with a heavy heart, a dusty guitar clutched in your trembling hands. "I know they kicked you out, and I'm assuming it's because of this, but I thought you'd want to play, you know? Before leaving and everything," you murmured softly, offering him the instrument.

"Whatever," Eddie replied curtly, his tone dripping with disdain. Your heart sank as you struggled to understand his animosity. "Why do you hate me so much? I've done nothing but be nice to you. I love your uncle, I loved you. You were my best friend, Eddie, and you started treating me like shit for no reason. Really, what is it?" Tears streamed down your face, smudging your makeup as you poured your heart out to him.

Eddie felt a pang of guilt tug at his heartstrings, a sudden urge to console you rising within him. He wanted to tell you that he was sorry, that he never hated you, that you looked beautiful even with tear-streaked cheeks. But his pride and guarded heart held him back. "You're a bitch, Y/N. You're a piece of shit, and you ruined the one good thing I loved, the one thing I had left of my mom. And you had no remorse when you did it. You did it with pride, and you looked at me like I was a monster. It's not my fault you deserved to be treated like shit, Y/N. Really, I fucking hate you. This whole fucking town hates you, and I understand because you ruined my life," he spat out bitterly, his anger palpable as his nostrils flared.

"I really don't know what I did. If I knew, I would apologize. I've only ever done things to protect you, Eddie," you sobbed, your heart breaking with every word.

"So breaking my shit is protecting me? Ruining my shit is protecting me, Y/N? That's an excuse, and it's a shitty one. You know I loved that guitar," Eddie yelled, his voice raw with emotion as he fought to contain his turmoil.

"I did it to protect you, Eddie. You never let me explain. They did it, Eddie. They spray-painted your guitar. They wrote mean things on it. So I got angry, and I broke it. I shattered it because I didn't want you to see that. They were so wrong, Eddie. They still are wrong. Even after you treated me like shit, I still want you to know that you are none of those things," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared at the ground, your chest heaving with sobs.

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his anger waning as he processed your words. Unable to resist any longer, he reached forward and pulled you into his arms, his own tears mingling with yours. "Shh, baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you did it just to spite me. Baby, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Please, I love you," he whispered brokenly, his bloodshot eyes pleading for forgiveness as you looked up at him, your heart heavy yet hopeful

I love you too, I really do, even after everything," you sighed into his shoulder, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Eddie gently grasped the back of your head, tilting it back so you could meet his gaze. He pressed his nose to yours, his forehead resting against yours, as his hand traced your jawline with tender care. With a lightness that belied the weight of your emotions, he placed the gentlest of pecks on your lips.

"I love you, baby. I'm sorry," Eddie murmured softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

"It's okay. I really love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with love and forgiveness as you melted into his embrace.

“lets go”

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[doomed-syko]

Right Back Where We Started From | Robert Keating x Fem!reader

summary: Flying home for Christmas seemed like a great idea until you’re snowed in and stuck on an icy runway… for the foreseeable future. Even worse? The person in the seat next to you is the guy who broke your heart a year ago

word count: 3.5k

warnings: angsty, exes to lovers (kinda), fluff, swearing, mention of alcohol, my bad writing as always, the usual really

author’s note: i have returned to my roots and am back with a robert christmas fic, everyone rejoice. this time a bit different. as you can tell, i’ve rewatched normal people while writing this – to all my robert keating and paul mescal enjoyers, this one is for you x

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”        

You hadn’t thought it would be possible, but your already bad day had just gotten worse somehow, which was kind of an achievement in itself.

It was bad enough that you had slept through your alarm this morning and had rushed into work over an hour late (the sudden onset of winter and heavy snowfall delaying your arrival even longer), which was followed by your suitcase breaking as you were about to leave your flat for Heathrow and you had to quickly find something to repair the broken zipper with. The bad luck didn't end there of course. When you did finally make it to the airport - ten minutes before check-in for your flight closed - you almost got run over by some busy businessman who didn't look where he was going and, in the process, rammed his metal suitcase against your knee, which had been pulsating and in pain ever since. Your flight being delayed by an hour and twenty minutes was truly only the cherry on top.

But even then, none of those things could compare to the mixture of feelings you felt bubbling up inside you when you realized who had just sat down in the seat right next to you and who was about to sit right next to you for the next hour and a half or so.

None other than your bassist ex-boyfriend whose band was almost everywhere these days. Of course, it had to be Robert Keating.

For a few seconds, you thought about the best way to approach this whole thing. Ignore him and pretend he wasn’t there? Put on a happy face and try to be nice to him? Even though the mere thought of your breakup still made your heart ache and sting every time you thought about it, thought about him. None of those seemed like good ideas.

Before either of you could decide how to approach this awkwardness, a decision was made for you. In the form of the voice of a flight attendant over the intercom system.

“Welcome on board British Airways flight BA 838 to Dublin Airport, due to the heavy snowfall and an icy runway, our start is delayed by at least thirty minutes,” a murmur went through the crowd. “Our cabin crew will be coming around, handing out free drinks and snacks, we apologize profusely for the delay!”

You must’ve really pissed off someone in your last life because there was no way this was real life. How could literally everything possibly go wrong in one single day?

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Robert echoed your words from earlier, the absurdity of it all was the last straw for you and you started uncontrollably giggling to yourself.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” Rob sighed and you knew without looking at him that his face was pulled into a grimace. It was safe to say that he was not having fun right now.

“Oh, believe me,” you stopped chuckling and turned your attention to your former lover, who did indeed look like he wanted to be anywhere but stuck on an icy tarmac right about now. “I’ve actually had one of the worst days of my life today.” You shrugged your shoulders. “At this point, I’ve just stopped trying to make any sense of it.”

Before you knew it you told him about everything that had gone wrong for you up until that point. Broke suitcase and all.

You even showed him your knee that had been massacred by that man and his heavy suitcase and realised that it actually had started bleeding. No wonder it kept pulsating with pain.

Those damn businessmen and their way too expensive, way too heavy metal suitcases

“I feel like I've been talking your ear off for way too long now,” you smiled awkwardly. Seems like 'put on a happy face and try to be nice' was the plan you had chosen. “Now tell me, why are you in London on the 22nd? Shouldn’t you be already home with the family?”

You hated that you still knew what he and his family did every Christmas. You hated that you still knew a lot about him actually.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rob replied. And just like that, operation 'put on a happy face and try to be nice' was fucked. “We had a label meeting a few days ago, with the big boss,” He joked. Looked like you didn’t mess up your chances of keeping this civil after all. “The lads all flew home on Wednesday, but I needed a day just for myself, to decompress or something like that… It has been a long year you know? So much has happened in the last twelve months, and I’ve had almost no days for just myself.”

“Yeah, busy year,” you acknowledged. You couldn’t escape the band anymore; they were everywhere these days. And as much as it hurt to see or hear about him everywhere you went; it made you happy to see them doing so well.

You were about to say something when the voice of the flight attendant from earlier came over the intercom again, this time informing you that due to the weather, your delay would continue but that you had to stay on the plane for safety reasons. At this point, you wondered if you would even make it to Dublin before Christmas… maybe you just had to spend Christmas in London alone, so the bad luck that seemed to follow you around could not rub off on anyone else.

At least the cabin crew would – once again – make their rounds and hand out free drinks, food, and some blankets.

Realizing that you hadn’t registered how cold it actually was on the plane, you made sure to profusely thank the brunette flight attendant, who handed you one of the British Airways branded blue fleece blankets, wrapping it around your upper body and legs you had pulled up on the seat after taking your shoes off. There was no way you were going to be (physically) uncomfortable today.

You turned your attention back to Rob, only to see him already looking at you. Actually looking at you and not the 'barely holding eye contact' thing he had done earlier, now he was staring at you, his eyes rapidly moving like he had forgotten what you looked like and was now trying to commit every part of you to his memory.

It made that mixture of feelings you had felt bubbling up inside you when you had first seen him earlier, return. Just this time, the feelings of butterflies in your stomach, that you always used to get whenever you had looked at him, were more prominent than any other feeling.

Fuck… great work! Thirty-five minutes spent next to your ex and boom… you were right back to feeling head over heels for him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of you knowing what to say now, because what do you talk about with your ex-partner when you didn’t plan to see them never mind being stuck in an airplane that could not take off due to the sudden onset of winter. No one had ever written a handbook of how to act if you were ever stuck in a situation like this. No one. Especially not on how to act when you are actually still very much in love with said former partner, making the doubts you had always had about you going your separate ways, appear even greater.

The breakup had been mutual. You both barely had time for each other anymore and at that point in time it had seemed like the only reasonable decision to make. You had finished university that summer, he was practically always on tour or in the studio and when you had gotten that job offer for your current job in London you realized that things would only get harder from there on out. So, you moved to London, Robert stayed in Dublin – when he was not on tour – and then you broke up.

Of course, you had promised to stay in touch, to stay friends but you both knew that that was not happening. You couldn’t stay friends with him, not when you were still head over heels in love with him.

That’s why the breakup still hurt, even though you had not been with him in well over a year. You had tried to move on, had hooked up with a few people here and there, had gone out on the dates your new friends had set you up on but no one made you feel the way he did, so you gave up trying and slowly came to terms with the fact that you would maybe never be as in love again as you had been when you were twenty.

You sighed, trying to shake your thoughts as you fished your phone out of your jeans pocket.

20:21

Even with the initial hour and twenty minutes delay of the flight, you should’ve been long in the air by now, scratch that you should be more than halfway to Dublin by now. You sighed again, before typing out a message to your mother, telling her that you were still in Heathrow and didn’t know when you'd be home. Her answer came quickly, reassuring you that she would be there to pick you up from the airport when you landed, whenever that may be.

Putting your phone away you turned your attention back on Rob, who seemed to be so deep in his own thoughts, that even though he was looking at you, he was more looking through you.

“Are you alright?” You sounded more concerned than you were.

“Yeah yeah, I’m all right. Just a bit tired,” He smiled at you. “It's just– you know… I have missed you. A lot.”

Oh.

“I’ve been for a while actually,” He chuckled awkwardly. “The last year has been one of the strangest of my life. The juxtaposition of all the success with the lads, all the sold-out shows, festivals… all the fun and good stuff that has happened and then missing you all the time, missing us. It is a lot.”

Robert’s admission hit you like a ton of bricks. Holy fucking shit.

“Don’t say that.” Your voice was breaking. Why was your voice breaking?

“No, I mean it,” Rob's voice wasn’t steady, but he continued, reaching for your hands, and giving them a gentle squeeze. It was the first time he touched you that evening, leaving your skin feeling like it was on fire everywhere his met yours.

“No, you don’t get to say that shit after I spent over a year being heartbroken.” Your emotions were running wild now. “Not after I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never love anyone like I love you.”

There it was. Your confession. Out in the open.

“We both decided it was for the better to call things off,” Robert cringed at the words. But he was right, it had been a mutual decision. “You can’t put all the blame on me… if I had known how difficult this would be I would’ve never done it.” You could tell he was getting worked up over this, but you could not blame him for that. You weren’t doing any better really. “I would’ve moved to this damn city for you!”

“Don’t say that.” There it was again. “Robert, you would have hated it here. You would have been away from the lads, you would have had to commute between London and Dublin all the fucking time,” you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, which proved to be difficult the longer this went on. “That’s no way to live, baby. We would have been miserable.”

He was silent for a while, his hands still holding onto yours as if you were the anchor keeping him grounded but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. Now you squeezed his hands.

“Bobby there is no use in pretending you wouldn’t have been absolutely fucking miserable here,” You sniffled trying not to cry. “I would not have had time for you, and you would not have had time for me. We would have lived two separate times, believe me, we would have resented each other after a few months.”

“Still,” he tried to argue. “I’ve been pretty fucking miserable this year without you too.” He was finally looking at you again, his eyes slightly glassed over.

You didn’t know what to say to that and before you could think of something, the intercom turned on again.

“Good evening, my name is Richard Jones, I’ll be your Captain tonight and I am happy to report that we’ve finally got cleared to take off.” Finally. “We will be making our way onto the tarmac in about ten minutes. Since we are obviously not the only plane waiting to take off, we will have to wait for a little bit longer, but we should be in the air in the next thirty minutes or so. We, again, apologise for the delay, if you have any more questions our cabin crew will be happy to answer them. We thank you for your patience!”

You felt like a weight was finally being taken off your shoulders. A weight you had carried around with yourself for almost a year now.

You got your phone out again, sending another text to your Mum telling her that you were finally about to take off and actually get home for Christmas. And then… then you took a deep breath turning your attention back to Robert.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“Well since we are sharing,” you smiled at him, still holding his hands. “I’ve missed you too. A lot!”

Before he could answer you, you got interrupted once again.

“Is there anything I can get either of you?” The brunette flight attendant from earlier smiled at you. “Any drinks? Food?”

“Yeah actually,” you turned your attention from Rob to the brunette woman. “Could we get two red wines and a pack of salt crisps? Thank you so much!”

You took the two wines and crisps, setting one of the wines down in front of Robert.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” You grinned at him, who would have thought this day would end like this? You certainly didn’t. “Cheers!”

The both of you talked a lot. About everything that had happened since your breakup, about how much you missed each other, about your job and the band.

You told him how proud you were of him and the lads, that even though it had hurt to see them everywhere, your happiness for their success outweighed the heartbreak of – at the time – knowing that you would probably never get to tell them that in the way you had done for years before. That you missed your friends in Dublin but that your new job and friends in London were great. How much you had fallen in love with this city. And how much you hated not at least trying to stay in contact with Eli or Josh.

In turn, he told you about how much he loved touring, how he and the lads had grown even closer, how crazy eventful this year had been and how glad he was that they were taking a little break. Taking things slow but already working on album number three.

You talked about your confessions from earlier. That you both were obviously miserable without each other, that you still loved each other greatly and what it meant for you going forward.

With your head on his shoulder, you talked for the whole flight, in hushed whispers, laughing every now and again.

And if the confessions had taken a heavy weight off your shoulder earlier, this – the hushed talking, the little giggles, and the handholding – made you feel weightless. Made you feel like you were on top of the world again. All because the man you loved was still in love with you.

You were holding hands when you finally walked out of the airplane at 22:25. Finally back home in Dublin you thought. And you continued to do so when you waited to pick up your baggage, which of course took another fifteen minutes but at this point, what were those extra fifteen minutes? If anything, it was more time with Robert which you gladly accepted.

“Is anyone here to pick you up?” You looked up at Rob, while you were still waiting for your broken suitcase, to arrive on the baggage conveyor belt.

“Sent a message to my Ma while we were getting ready to land,” He answered. “Is that your bag?” He asked pointing to the black suitcase, which was indeed yours. “She should be here by now and if not, I’ll just have to wait a few minutes,” he grabbed your suitcase, grabbing your hand again and interlocking your fingers. “Your Mum is picking you up, right?”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you walked through the automatic doors. “There she is actually.” Your pace got faster after you spotted her in between the dozens of other people who were waiting for their loved ones to finally arrive. “C’mon.”

You felt your fingers slip out of Robert's hand a few meters before you reached your mother, practically running into her open arms. Only once you were back in your mother’s arms did you realize how tired you actually were.

“Oh my god I’ve missed you so much,” you sighed. “I don’t think I have ever been this happy to be back home.

“Oh, it is so good to have you back, sweetheart!” Your mother replied kissing your cheek before spotting Rob who had given your little reunion some space. “Robert it's good to see you again darling.”

She pulled him into her arms, just like she had done with you earlier but not before side-eying you. This was going to be fun to explain later.

“Okay let’s get you home,” your mother sighed, grabbing your suitcase. “Is there anyone to pick you up, Robert?”

“Yeah, my Mums on her way,” he smiled down at her. “I’ll wait outside for her; don’t worry she'll be here in a few minutes.”

The three of you walked through the airport, towards the car park, your mother in the front with your suitcase, Robert, and you behind her with the rest of your baggage.

“I’ll get the car,” Your mother said when you stepped outside, the cool air blowing through your hair. “You wait here I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Before you could answer her, she was already gone, leaving you and Robert alone. Smart woman, you thought to yourself.

You turned your attention back to Robert, smiling brightly, before resting your head against his chest. You stood in silence, the chilly wind still blowing through your hair. You did not feel the need to say something. Everything you needed to get off your chest you had talked about with Robert. You would rather just stay where you were right now, in his arms and pressed against his chest just like you had done a hundred times before.

“I’ll see you in January,” he smiled, carefully grabbing your face, and pulling it from his chest to look at you. “Right?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, hearing the honking of a car, and turning around to see your mother waiting for you. “I’ll keep my bed warm for you!” You chuckled, leaning into his touch. “I promise.”

“I’ll know you will love,” Robert grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” another kiss. This time his lips landed on your right temple, right next to your eye. “I love you!”

The last kiss he pressed to the tip of your nose. Just like he had done on your first date, years ago.

“I love you.” You replied, kissing the skin right below his chin, before nuzzling your nose into his neck. It was crazy how fast you fell into old patterns.

Your mother honked again, which you took as your sign to let go of Robert and get into the car. Before leaving his warm embrace, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, his skin still feeling warm beneath your lips.

You walked to the car, put your backpack on the backseat and before she could even ask you answered the question you knew she was dying to ask you.

“It’s a long story.”

note: if you liked this imagine, don’t forget to like, comment and/or reblog, that’d be greatly appreciated! xx

taglist: (if you’d like to be tagged please let me know!) @tractorbeamofwoe @1twontalwaysbelikethiss @vanmccannsfridge

[blacklesbothatlovestowrite]

On My Mama Pt. 8 (Oh, how the mighty have fallen)

Tags: @mixedfandxms @shurislover @sweetalittleselfish-honey @desswright29 @cutttteeee @onyxstones-world @katymae12344 @doramilaj233 @sweetalittleselfish-honey @6-noir @khara876 @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @teadah18 @un-deniable-me3 @anayaperry @lppriceisright

-

“Oh, great!” Your mother scoffs, as she downs yet another glass of whiskey straight. She was in a self pity mood.

Nothing had went the way she’d planned. She had no intentions of arguing with you, let alone hitting you. Shed worked on what she’d say when she saw you and everything she’d planned disappeared the moment she’d seed that girl.

She couldn’t stand the girl. Hate was too strong a word for how she felt about that girl.

Why did she have to be there? Why was she your roommate ? Why was this happening ?

God, she thought she could do this but clearly she wasn’t ready. The thought of talking to you again was nauseating. She didn’t have the courage to speak to you and say what she’d planned on saying.

You were so determined to hate her. She didn’t know how to change that or fix it. And what she’d said and done was possibly the worst thing she could’ve ever done. She stooped so much lower than she ever could have.

“You need help.” Shuri says, shaking her head as she stared at your mother.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Your mother hisses, signaling the bartender to send another drink her way. She planned on getting so drunk she forgot about this horrid day even if it was only temporary.

“I shouldn’t be here. Y/n would kill me if she knew I was talking to you but…” Shuri shook her head. This was more important. She couldn’t keep holding this secret from you. You deserved better and she knew that.

“You know Y/n’s always had a thing for you.” Your mother chuckles as the bartender places another drink in front of her.

“It wasn’t shocking you found yourself attracted to her. She’s gorgeous.” Your mother continued as she knocked the drink back as if it were a shot.

“Y/m/n. Stop.” Shuri grinds her teeth. She knew she shouldn’t have come after her. She’d spent quite a few enjoyable hours tiring you out and slipped out the moment your eyes closed and your breathing returned to normal.

“It’s a compliment..” Your mother shrugged. It truly was. You were beautiful, always had been. You looked like the perfect mix of her and your father. The thought making her insides turn. She hated thinking about him.

He’d died so horribly. She felt robbed. She felt as though you were robbed. There was so much she’d planned to tell him before he died.

Guilt swallowed her whole being. She couldn’t face the fact that he was gone. She knew in her head that he was long gone. Dead. Buried. But for some reason she couldn’t let go of him. So here she was like she’d done for so long. Drinking.

She drank every day . Every night. She was constantly drinking day in and day out as if it were hydrating her. Instead she was only damaging herself, something she knew but ignored just to feel a temporary relief.

“You cried that night about wanting a better relationship with your daughter and have done absolutely nothing to make that a reality. You think drinking is fixing your problem?” Shuri’s eyes roamed over your mother’s messy clothing. She had always been so put together but right now she was covered in alcohol and white remnants of what she chose to ignore.

From the look of her messy hair, smudged lips and tear streaked face. It was obvious she’d been fucked by yet another stranger.

She pitied your mother. While she knew exactly where your mother was mentally and emotionally. She couldn’t completely empathize with her. She chose the way things played out. She was the reason her own daughter hated her. She was the reason her husband had died. She was the common denominator in all of the equation and yet there was no accountability or actions taken to improve.

It was like watching. A train wreck, it was truly horrific and sickening but yet she couldn’t walk away or look away. She knew there was nothing she could do to help your mother but yet she felt like she owed it to you to do so.

You lost your dad in part due to her actions whether accidental or not. There was no taking back the actions that let to his death and for that she felt absolutely guilty.

“I seem to recall you drinking like there was no tomorrow and smoking your problems away.” Your mother pointed out, scoffing at the judgment.

“Yeah well. I’m currently working on healing, because I want to be who my mother and brother would be proud of. I want to be who Y/n deserves. She’s had enough disappointment and hurt to last a lifetime.” Shuri corrected her.

“Y/n is incapable of letting anyone love her. She’s never been able to commit to anything or anyone. You won’t change that.” Your mother shakes her head. “I know my daughter. She’s full of so much love but she’ll never show it. I raised her that way because this world is cruel and life is unfair. You’ll never break her.”

“I wouldn’t want to.” Shuri responded. Clearly seeing where you got your issues from. You liked to act like you didn’t care about anything or anyone but she knew better. She picked up on how much you cared for people, despite trying to pretend you didn’t.

It’s why you were able to forgive Riri, even if you pretended that you hadn’t. She knew better. The same could be said for when you forgave her. You were a loving and sensitive woman but you refused to show people that side of you.

“You think Y/n will ever love you?” Your mother laughed, tears streaming down her face as she laughed.

“Y/n was right. You should leave.” Shuri declared, walking off. She hated how that statement made her feel. She was unsure of your feelings for her. She knew you liked Riri even if you acted as though you couldn’t stand her.

While you had forgiven her, your feelings towards her seemed unclear. Sex seemed to be the only thing holding you two together and that scared her. Something she’d spoken about with her therapist. She didn’t want to care about another person. She couldn’t deal with losing anyone else but the thought of you not caring for her like she did you frightened her like hell.

The rest of the night Shuri spent at the lab. She hadn’t worked on any research in a while and she had no urge to at the moment which was baffling to her. She’d been so stuck in a constant cycle of being locked in her lab, drinking, smoking and fucking random women.

She hadn’t had sex with Riri since the Bria debacle and she wasn’t so sure she’d go there again. It hurt like hell when she found out she’d been used to get to Riri. She didn’t love Bria, but she did feel close to her. She trusted her, she felt like she was a second to Riri in terms of someone to keep her grounded and who cared.

She couldn’t process her feelings of betrayal, hurt and anger when everything hit the fan. She’d always felt insecure and insignificant. While she’d been uplifted and loved/doted on by her family. Shuri never had true friends until Riri. Okoye, Aneka and Ayo were family. Just as Nakia and Challa were.

Then she’d been in private lessons her whole life, kept inside and monitored unlike T’Challa whom was free to roam all over Wakanda without question. While she was constantly out with family. She never really had friends to socialize with.

She was a huge Outsider social site fan because of her isolation. Which taught her how to be more social and helped her pick up things she otherwise wouldn’t have known about.

She’d met a few daughters and sons of the tribe but people tended to keep their distance respectfully. They viewed the royal family as ‘unapproachable’ not because they were but as a sign of respect. Something she absolutely detested.

Her parents were always so big on being contained in a safe bubble that she often felt suffocated. T’Challa was her best friend, when she’d lost him it felt like a part of her had died as well. He’d known all of her secrets, he was the first person she’d call whenever she needed him.

He was always there for her. He loved her and accepted her when she’d stated that she was interested in women. Even helped her to update her style to fit her, by taking her on several secretive shopping trips. She was a stem. She was both feminine and masculine. She could be girly or be boyish and both were very attractive to everyone.

Bria made her feel comfortable and safe. Seen. She was someone to talk to that didn’t push for her to change or ‘do better’ she simply accepted her where she was in her grieving process. Riri constantly pushed and tried to make her ‘heal’ and at times it really angered her because she wasn’t fully ready to let go of her feelings surrounding the loss of her family members.

She knew that if she let go of her anger, her sadness, her grief… It would mean they were really gone. That she could no longer pretend that things weren’t true. She’d have to accept that they would never come back and she hated to think of that. She wanted her family, needed them.

Riri couldn’t fully understand. She’d lost her father and best friend, but Shuri? Shuri had lost her entire family, her bloodline depended on her and Toussaint. Her children wouldn’t know their grandparents, their uncle firsthand. They would have secondhand memories and stories and that hurt.

She wanted them to know their grandfather , know what it was to be comforted and taught by him. To know their grandmother who was full of wisdom and love, who could turn the saddest and most difficult days into the best days of their lives. To know how loyal and supportive their uncle was. To be able to tell him all their secrets without fear of being judged or reprimanded.

So much would be missed, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d ever fill in those voids. Her family was completely gone, there was no replacing what she had lost. At times she thought about not having her own children at times as she had no mother to go through motherhood with.

She barely had the emotional support needed to give her children all they would need. She was one person.

Bria eased all those concerns and expectations by not making her think of anything but the current moment. She made her feel like she could finally breathe and that was everything to her.

-

The next morning you woke to see Shuri wasn’t there and her side of the bed was cold. You frowned, not liking the fact that she’d left without saying anything or leaving a note.

You shouldn’t have cared but you did. It was the little things that mattered to you. You needed people to care about you. You’d spent so long just having your father care about you.

As much as you warred with your feelings, you still felt good knowing that people cared. You felt lonely and as much as you hated to admit, you felt genuine care with both Shuri and Riri but in different ways.

You still held unresolved resentment towards Riri for what she’d done but it was hard to stay mad at her. You felt this closeness to her that you couldn’t explain.

Stretching, you climbed out of Shuri’s bed and made your way to the bathroom. You used her mouthwash and brushed your teeth with your second toothbrush stored in her bathroom. After washing and drying your face you peed, wiped, flushed and washed your hands.

Walking to the kitchen you smelt food and raised a brow as Riri gestured to the kitchen island with a nod of her head. She set a plate down with powdered sugar French toast, cut up mangos and a homemade mango syrup.

There was freshly squeezed orange juice with the leftover mango juice. She’d even placed cut up mango’s on the side in a small bowl. You smiled as she gave you a fork. The way you love mangoes this was a huge help in garnering your forgiveness.

It was your favorite fruit, top of the list. Any variation of mango from any country. Sweet, or green with some salt or Tajín. You absolutely loved mangoes, no question.

“What’s all this for ?” You asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

“I figured you needed a pick me up after yesterday.” Riri shrugged, as she placed two pills by the glass of juice she set out for you.

“Thank you.” You grinned.

She went about the task of cleaning up after herself but you quickly got up and stopped her. She was not going to clean after she cooked. You believed in fairness, if someone cooked it was only fair the other person cleaned.

“I got it.” You assured her, pulling her by the hand to the kitchen island to eat. As you both sat down, you’d shared your breakfast with her.

It was delicious which wasn’t surprising, Riri knew how to cook and really good too.

As much as you wanted to pretend you didn’t like her, things like this made it hard. She was always being thoughtful, always feeding you when she knew you wouldn’t bother. You were an oatmeal or ready made shake kind of girl in the mornings out of convenience and laziness.

“I’m sorry about last night…” You mumble, feeling embarrassed and hurt at her rejection. It still was fresh on your mind.

It was hard to admit you liked her, so for her to reject you when you offered yourself up to her… it felt like a blow to the gut. Friends don’t look at friends that way… She could pretend all she wanted but you weren’t crazy. She wanted you. You thought, you weren’t fully certain and maybe it was wishful thinking but you needed her to want you.

“An apology, wow my food must really be good.” Riri joked, bumping your shoulder gently.

You said nothing and she quickly stopped laughing, and turned her body in the chair to face you.

“I’m sorry for everything I did.” Riri forces you to look her in the eyes, her hand on your chin. “It was despicable and downright cruel. There aren’t words adequate enough to describe how much I hate what I did to you. There’s no explanation I could give because nothing will change my actions or justify them. I was wrong and I am sorry.”

You swallowed. Not many people apologized to you, and you weren’t very big on apologizing either. You felt slightly uncomfortable at the feelings you felt for Riri. Her apology made your stomach have these weird feelings and that scared you.

“I’m sorry too.” You blurted out, the words feeling like vinegar on your tongue.

“You—“

You cut her off by kissing her. You weren’t entirely sure what made you do it but the moment your lips touched, you felt that feeling in your stomach intensify. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Her lips were soft and smooth.

Riri was frozen in place as you kissed her. She was shocked. She never saw it coming. This wasn’t a vindictive or sexual kiss. It wasn’t like any of the kisses you’d shared with Bria or Shuri. She’d seen enough of them to know. There was no tongue, no urgency to touch her.

You moved away from her lips and stared at her.

“I don’t want to be your friend.” You finally admitted the one thing you were fighting so hard to bury. Riri stared at you in confusion. “And you don’t want to be my friend either.”

It wasn’t clear to you why you felt the need to say that but the moment the words left your mouth, you felt better for some reason. You thought about that saying your dad always said ‘the truth shall set you free’ it felt like you were being honest with yourself for the first time in a long while.

“I like you Arianna. I don’t know why, God knows I have tried to fight it. But I can’t… it hurts me to be mad at you and I hate it. I should hate you, I’ve tried but I just can’t seem to no matter how hard I try.” Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. It was like you couldn’t stop talking.

Riri’s brows raised, she hadn’t expected that. If the kids threw her for a loop, your words were scrambling her brain right now. No one called her by her given name, not many people knew it but hearing you say it made her melt. She didn’t think she wanted you to call her anything else.

“I love you.” Riri blurted, her eyes locked on yours. How could she not? You were an amazing woman. You had so many great qualities, she knew you built up this mean, tough exterior to protect yourself. You were kind and loving, you cared about everyone. Even when people hurt you and you were being mean, you still cared for them.

She loved how blatant you were, even if the words were a bit harsh. You spoke your mind. You were so creative and innovative even though you hid your work and tried to act like it was nothing. There were so many things that made her fall for you.

It was what made her so determined to help you, to heal you. You had so much anger, resentment and unresolved feelings that were holding you back from being the woman she knew you could be. That you deserved to be. She wanted you to be capable of receiving love and genuine affection. Not just sexual affection.

The both of you were so caught up in each other, neither of you noticed the sound of the door opening. Shuri had been listening to your conversation for a while, she felt a pain like she’d never known. It was different than when Bria had used her.

She couldn’t form words. There was nothing she could say at the moment. She couldn’t disrespect you or Riri. She cared for you both, and had so much respect for each of you. She couldn’t even be angry. She just stood still, trying to process her thoughts and emotions.

“And here I thought I was fucked up…” Your mother said, breaking the moment. You looked up to see Shuri standing in the entry way. She had a look on her face that made your stomach turn.

You looked behind her to see your mother, she was a drunken mess. It was a shocking and pitiful experience to see her in such a way. She was normally always put together.

“Why are you here?” You leveled her with a cool stare. You weren’t in the mood for her or her bullshit.

“I wanted to talk about yesterday… but clearly this is more important.” Your mother shook her head. “You can’t fuck that girl.”

There was so much hatred in the way she said that girl. You were instantly on the defensive. Who was she to tell you what you could and couldn’t do? Was this another one of her truth talks where she admitted she fucked someone she shouldn’t have?

You instantly turned to face Riri, already starting to overthink. Riri’s eyes widened as she quickly realized where your mind was taking you. She shook her head. She would NEVER go there. It wasn’t shade towards Shuri because Shuri hadn’t known you or your ties to your mother but knowing you now… she could never do that. Nina was one thing, but your mother? Absolutely not.

“Why is this any of your business?” You turned back to your mother, relief evident in your face.

“She’s your sister.” Your mother said, her eyes full of guilt and resentment.

Shuri stared at the two of you in shock. What in the actual fresh hell was going on?

“What have you been drinking? It clearly needs to be taken off the market because you’re tweaking.” Riri stared at your mother incredulously. She clearly was not ok in the head.

“Y/n… I cheated on your dad with a man I loved more than I ever thought possible. I was in Chicago for a few months. He was my neighbor for the apartment I subleased. It wasn’t intentional, but I couldn’t stay away from him. He didn’t know I was with your dad. Your dad was focused on building his company and school. He barely had time for me, I felt alone. I didn’t plan it, it just happened. Then it grew into something more and I planned on divorcing your dad.” Your mother looked like she was going to be sick.

“Your father found out that I was married and he told me he never wanted to see me again. I wasn’t as known when we’d met but by the end of our relationship I was recognized all over. Our affair had been discovered and I was plastered all over the news papers and magazines. I remember the look on his face when he found out. He couldn’t even look at me. He moved in the middle of the night, I couldn’t find him. He quit working at the garage he worked at. Your dad… he was a forgiving man. He flew to Chicago and he told me he forgave me, that he was sorry for neglecting me and that he loved me. I was abandoned by the man I truly loved and I didn’t want to be alone so I chose to stay with your dad and go back home with him. I found out I was pregnant a month later.” The more she talked, the more your hatred for her grew.

“It made no sense to break your dad’s heart anymore than I had. While I wasn’t in love with him, I did love him. So I made him believe that you were his. Things were fine for a while until your first birthday. I saw your father, he was with a woman that’s the carbon copy of this girl and he was holding a little baby a few months younger than you. I later learned it was his girlfriend and I knew it would have been a mess to speak up so I made sure he didn’t see me or you and I left.” Your mother was crying and you couldn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for her.

“Every time I think you can’t stoop to a new low, you amaze me. You are complete garbage.” You wipe the tears that are leaking, and move past Shuri to shove your mother out of your apartment.

“What was his name?” Riri finds her voice again, feeling sick to her stomach.

“Mecca.” Your mother says, and Riri looks from her to you.

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” You say, with a heavy heart. Your mind felt like it was going to explode with all the information you’d learned.

-

Until next time 🫨

[bosinclairsgff]

It’s been ages since I’ve requested any sort of thing but do you think you could do something where the reader finds a way to break out of the firefly house which leads to a whole chase scene with Otis? Love some dark stuff.

I loveeeee this!! Thanks so much for requesting!

I hope you enjoy what I did with this request! I tried my best, it’s maybe longer than you had hope but I was hanging fun haha! Much love xoxo ✨🫶🏻

Warnings : typical Rob Zombie violence, cussing, abuse

I had been trapped in the firefly house for over a month. The things I have seen and been put through are absolutely horrific. While being here Otis, as I’ve come to know him, and his sister Baby brought back a group of friends. They turned one of the men into a fish man hybrid. They made me watch as they brutally tortured him and murdered him. From what I could tell Halloween had come and passed in my time being with them. Baby had brought me candy one night when she had gotten back from somewhere. She and mama were the only ones to treat me sort of normal. Otis on the other hand, he made me sit in his room for days just watching him work on his “art” and listen to him rant about everything. Sometimes he’d forget to feed me and I’d starve for days. It’d take a yelling from Baby for him to remember. I don’t know why they haven’t killed me yet. I mean sure, they mentally and even sometimes physically abuse me. If I don’t say the exact thing Otis wants to hear he’ll take a razor and cut my arm or leg. I’m always getting yelled and or hit.

I’ve spent my whole time being here trying to find away to just get away from these people. Sometimes, Otis will untie me to go hangout with Baby or even to use the bathroom. He’d watch me use the bathroom but when I saw Baby it was just her and I. Depending on what time of day Otis let’s me go see her, sometimes she’ll fall asleep as I sit in her room. I knew that was my only chance. So, I waited, I waited until he was in a good mood and let me visit her one night. “Do you want to visit Baby tonight? I think you deserve a little vacation.” He chuckled at his wording choice. “Yes please Otis.” I whisper timidly. Otis nods in response, satisfied with my answer. It was only about 6pm when he asked me, I knew it was to early, and plus baby wasn’t even home yet. It was around 10pm when Baby got home, she clearly had been drinking. “Y/n!!! I hear we get to hangout tonight sugar. We should watch..um..a movie! Yes, a movie! A scary movie!!” She says stumbling around the room. Otis walks over to me, rolling his eyes. He unties me from the chair I was bond to. “I don’t want her to spend the night in there Baby, bring her back in a few hours, got it?” He barks at her. “Yes, yes okay whatever you say.” Baby respond while grabbing my hand to pull me away to her room.

She immediately sits me down on the floor and she takes the bed. Baby turns on the tv and finds a movie she’s satisfied with. Normally she’d let me sit on the bed and she’d brush and style my hair, tonight though she seemed exhausted. We sat there for about 20 minutes just watching the movie. When I looked up I found her fast asleep. I knew this was my chance. “Baby” I whispered slightly. I got no response. I slowly got myself up off the floor, I know I don’t have the best strength considering I’m starved most of the time. I just assumed adrenaline would kick in and get me out of this hell hole. I make my way quickly but quietly out of Baby’s room, down the hall and to the steps. I check my surroundings, making sure no one had noticed me lurking about. I take a my first step on the stairs, no sound, I take my next step, quiet creek. The third step I take gives everything away. I put my full weight down and a loud creek rings through the whole house. I can hear Otis’s footsteps getting close to opening his bedroom door. “Baby, is that you? What the hell are you doing. Don’t take her downstairs.” Otis yells. I waste no more time and book it down the remaining steps. I can hear Otis kick open his door and start running after me. “Get your sorry ass back here right now y/n!” He’s screaming through the house. I ignore his words and make it out the front door, it’s very late and I can barely see where I’m going. I just keep running as tears fly down my cheeks. “Run rabbit, run rabbit, run!” I can hear Otis not far behind me. I can feel him getting closer and I can feel myself getting extremely tired. If I can just keep going a little longer maybe I can escape him. Suddenly that thought is erased from becoming reality as Otis tackles me to the ground, I let out a loud scream. I immediately try to fight him off of me, kicking and hitting him as hard as I can. He struggles to hold my arms down but eventually he does. Both my arms are above my head being held down with what feels like all his weight. Otis’s legs are on either side of my hips. “You dumb fucking cunt. I let you leave the room and this is what you do in return. You are such a fucking idiot. I should have killed you the day I brought you here.” With that being said he takes one hand away from holing my hands above my head and reaches to his belt where he keeps his huge hunting knife. My blood immediately runs cold. Is this where it all ends? I was so close to freedom and now I’m going to be gutted alive. Before I can imagine even more awful ways he could kill me he has the knife to my throat. “I was starting to think maybe, just maybe, I could keep you around as my little pet. What a dumb fucking thought I’ll admit. You stupid bunny.” He smirks. “Please…please…Otis I’m sorry..I’m so sorry. I swear on my life I won’t try to run again. Just don’t kill me please.” I say as I feel the hot tears run down my face. He pushes the knife harder against my neck. Hard enough to draw blood, I wince and shut my eyes. “Look at me y/n.” Otis growls. I quickly open my eyes. “Please…” I whisper. He leans closer to me until our faces are pressed to each other, I can feel his breath on my lips. He smells like alcohol. “I’m so sorry” I whisper again. He gets back up and frees my arms, only to take his hand and slap it harshly across my face. I let out a loud shriek. Otis was still holding the knife to my throat, which cut my neck even more when he hit me. “You ever pull some stupid god damn stunt like this again y/n…and I’ll hang you up like a pig and skin you alive. You got that bitch?” He says while tilting his head to the side. I let out a soft sob and respond. “Yes! Yes I do Otis, I won’t ever do it again I swear. I’ll be so good I promise. Thank you.” I say just above a whisper. He’s satisfied and takes the knife from my throat. Otis stands up and reaches down to yank me up with him. It was a long walk back to the house. He dragged me by the hair the whole way. When we made it “home” he brought me back to the room and threw me on the floor. “Stay right fucking there.” He shouts.

Otis is gone for a few moments but comes back with a bottle of whisky and a bandage. “Lay down on the fucking floor and don’t make a sound. If I hear a peep I swear to god you’ll wish you were dead.” He states sternly. I do as he says laying on the dirty floor, I hadn’t noticed but my neck had been bleeding quite a bit. Without any warning he pours the whisky on my neck, I bite my lip until it bleeds as to not make a sound. He wastes no time wiping away the blood and whisky. When he’s happy with the cleanliness he wraps my neck securely. I can feel the tears once again falling like a waterfall. Ripping me from my pity party, Otis pulls me up from the hair putting me back in my dreaded chair. Tying my hands the tightest he possibly could. “Dumb fucking bunny.” He whispers in my ear.

[bunnakit]

BEFORE / AFTER COLORING 🌸

thank you so much for the tag @maxescheibechlinichacheli !! i've only been making gifs since september but seeing the before and after coloring is one of my absolute favorite things.

PHAYA & THARN | THE SIGN 🌸 i absolutely love the pink tones in this scene and tried to boost them as much as possible (though for whatever reason it doesn't look quite as nice as the first time i made a set of this scene)

CHEN YI & AI DI | KISEKI: DEAR TO ME 🌸 the purple and orange lighting of chen yi's room is always fun to color and i love the way it creates this almost neon effect on ai di's hair

THARN | THE SIGN 🌸 it took all my willpower not to just keep using scenes from the sign. i wanted to use the garuda scene but set myself a personal challenge not to, and the glow effects in this scene were too much to resist

PISAENG & KAWI | BE MY FAVORITE 🌸 my babies. i miss them so much. i love the pink tones in the background of this scene and the way it makes this loving moment so soft.

JIM & WEN | MOONLIGHT CHICKEN 🌸 we all know im a slut for p'aof. the lighting in moonlight chicken plays such a huge part in setting the mood of the show and this is one of the best scenes to showcase that imo.

PISAENG | BE MY FAVORITE 🌸 debated using this bc of the flashing lights but i love pisaeng and i love that he's awash in all the colors of the rainbow as he struggles with his own identity while watching a gay couple live his dream.

JANG JAEYOUNG | SEMANTIC ERROR 🌸 give. him. the. lip. ring. back. i really just wanted to make a gif for semantic error and originally tried with the alley scene and all the neon but it's such a static scene it didn't work too well, so i went to find some lip ring jaeyoung because we were robbed.

TAN & BUNN | MANNER OF DEATH 🌸 my loves. i wanted to use a scene where i had to do quite a bit of color correction - i used a very minor amount in the moonlight chicken gif but this is such a dark, blue toned scene (as so many scenes in MoD are) so i thought it would showcase it a lot better.

TIN & TOL | TRIAGE 🌸 this is a much more subtle one but i figured it was good to show the whole spectrum. this scene is so soft and comforting, i absolutely love it and there aren't enough triage gifs in the world.

TANG YI | HISTORY 3: TRAPPED 🌸 this made me insane. this gentle, worshipping kiss lives in my head rent free. i just wanted to look at it again, to be honest, and they have such beautiful skin tones. i think the vast majority of my gif making friends have been tagged but in case you havent here's some no pressure tags (i know quite a few of you are dealing with some shit irl) @sparklyeyedhimbo @kinnbig @aikinn @panncakes

[arminsumi]

★ College Freaks

★ With : Jay / Sam / Gojo / Geto / Choso / Shoko

★ Content : crack, humor, self-insert, college au

★ Synopsis : horny college drama stuff.

★ Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+, suggestive/smutty humor/flirting, hints to Choso getting a boner, not proofread

★ Note : it's my first time writing a self-insert 🧍‍♀️ it eez wot it eez. i didn't get to add nanami 😔 wanted to whip out the daddy jokes. oh well. enjoy?? idk if self-insert stuff is enjoyable lol lmk

Poor Sam, I clung to her arm and stole her attention from everyone else. Choso came up to her for after-school notes, and I put my hand up to his face to shut him up and said;

"No. Not today, emo boy. I'm sorry I am stealing my girl away — we're going to go rob a bank and then catch a flight to Italy — Sam why are you laughing? Stop laughing, I'm actually quite serious."

Poor Choso, he was confused as he always is.

I complained about life and my problems to Sam and she nodded and hummed in understanding, only half-listening because I was in one of those dramatic moods that couldn't be taken seriously.

We went to the library for no reason except that we knew Satoru and Suguru were there. Sam had a big crush on Suguru so I was trying to do her a solid and break the ice between them. She didn't have the courage to approach him herself. I didn't get why. I told her life is short, one day you'll be in a coffin, so you should talk to hot guys while you can.

Anyways, I wasn't sure about those two. Suguru's detachedness annoyed me, because when I'd talk to him during class he'd sort of recede into his shell — his shell being Satoru.

And Satoru? I liked him, yes sure. I was ashamed to like the guy that the whole school liked, so I made a joke out of it — I think he thought I was joking when I flirted with him because I exaggerated everything to the point of sounding like a joke.

During mid-year, things got steamy but nothing more happened. We definitely shared a spark in April but now it fizzled out and I was desperately trying to relight it. Flirting during class? No I wanted to flirt outside of the classroom. I wanted to flirt in his bedroom.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

"Alright, Sam. My girl. This is what you do; you go up to Suguru and say "Be my husband." okay?"

"You're funny."

"Hm... yeah actually, on second thought, marriage is an awful idea. Never get married — this is my granny advice to you; don't get married. CHOSO WE MEET AGAIN!"

"Oh god." he walked in the other direction.

"DON'T GO! DON'T YOU WANT TO FUCK IN THE BACK OF THE HOT TOPIC?" I yelled after him. I don't think he's heard that Ayesha Erotica song so I think he just thought I was crazy and yelling outrageous stuff.

"YOU'RE CRAZY." he yelled back, "Anyways, you still on for later?"

"Yes I'm turned on for later — wait what? Yes. I'm still on for later. I'm bringing Sam with, too, even if I have to drag her by her leg. Sam?"

Choso left, and then I returned my attention to Sam who was pretending to read a book because Suguru and Satoru were glancing over.

"See, they're looking at us. You know what that means? They're obsessed." I said, "Kidding. Fuckin' kidding. I think I talked too loudly." I laughed at myself.

"I think Suguru reads classics... do you know any classics?" Sam asked, skimming the book spines with her eyes.

"Yes — Dostoyevsky but man he's a fucking pain to read. Anyways, Suguru probably only reads hardcore smut." I joked. "Anyways, stop stalling — let's go say hi before Satoru and Suguru fall into a void."

"What? No way. NONONONONO DON'T DRAG ME—"

⁕⁕⁕⁕

"Hey boys~!" I greeted them and invited myself to the free seat next to Satoru. I crossed my legs, made a motion of flipping my hair (it was tied up) and encouraged Sam to sit, too.

They greeted us, we four talked for a bit. Shoko came around, and sat down next to me and we put our legs on each other. I was as comfortable with her as I was with Sam, which was a nice feeling.

Satoru stole my glasses off my face, so I stole his sunglasses off and wore them.

I couldn't see without my glasses, so I told him he was the hottest man I'd ever seen.

He had a smug response and nodded. Then he realized.

"Hey wait a minute."

"Wow that took you a while." I laughed. "Give me my glasses back — hey you fucking smudged them you absolute cunt. Oh my god... worst day ever... I'm gonna cry... anyways."

I cleaned the lenses with my t-shirt but they just got more and more smudged so I narrowed my eyes and kept wiping the lenses.

Suguru, Shoko and Sam commented on this moment between us.

"You two should date."

"Nah, she'd turn me into an ex real fast." Satoru said immediately.

"Boy, I'd turn you into a triple-ex." I said and winked.

He shook his head. I put on some chapstick. I felt eyed out. I looked to the side and surely there was Satoru staring very obviously.

"What? What are you staring at, perv?" I sassed, "You want some of my chapstick?"

"Hell yeah." he leaned in. His lips quivered when I put my chapstick to his lips. "Oh that smells good."

"It's Chupa-Chups." I said. He hummed and inhaled.

Satoru kept his lips parted while I applied the chapstick.

"You smell good too. 'That your perfume?" he asked.

"Yes. Vanilla."

"Why are they always flirting?" Suguru asked out loud.

"I dunno." Sam shrugged.

"We're not flirting." Satoru said.

"It is what it is." I said at the same time.

My mouth fell open. Satoru giggled at my reaction. I still had my mouth open, to emphasize my shock. We're not flirting?

"Close ya mouth, Jay, you'll attract cock." Satoru said.

"Wow! I'm so over you, Satoru!" I said.

I scooted and scooted my chair away from Satoru on the carpeted library floor. Satoru blatantly stared at my jiggling breasts. The other library goers looked irked by the laughter coming from our table.

"Shoko, want my chapstick instead?" I offered. She started giggling.

"What about me?" Suguru said.

I made an awkward noise, "Sorry I don't fuck with Satoru Besties." I joked quickly, noting Sam's expression.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

We all headed out the library to talk because Shoko and I wanted to have a smoke.

"... and it pisses me off!" I finished complaining about something to Shoko and we exchanged the cigarette. She took her turn puffing on it.

"Damn, you complain a lot." Satoru commented.

I gave him a look.

"Yeah, care to shut me up with your co— I'm sorry I'm joking I'm kidding." I put my hands up.

Satoru shrugged, "I mean, I can do that for you if you want." he flirted.

I pulled my round glasses down and gave him the look.

"Right here? Right now? Because you know I'd be on my knees any time and place for you, boy." I winked.

"Yeah yeah, your bark is bigger than your bite." Satoru dismissed.

"Wanna come find out?" I said, "Because I think I could slut ya out."

He looked at me with wide eyes — I couldn't judge if he was turned on or just thought I was being outrageous.

"Haha, Satoru you're going red in the face." Suguru laughed. I smiled smugly. Satoru went silent. It feels good to out-flirt a flirt.

Sam was making heart eyes at Suguru. I was trying to figure out some witty joke to say to bring them together, but it just didn't work out. I tripped over my own words and then covered it up with a long, exaggerated noise.

But they ended up going off somewhere together, talking about Dostoyevsky. I thought that was quite romantic.

Shoko let me steal another cigarette off her. Satoru was complaining about our smoke smelling awful.

"Yeah but you'd still kiss me even with smoky breath." I said.

He hummed flirtatiously. Oh shit I did something.

"Uh, I'll give you two some space." Shoko laughed, then left us alone together.

"Oh god." I whined. "Shoko please."

"What's that grimace for?" Satoru narrowed his eyes at me.

"Well I looove flirting with you but I hate being alone with you." I groaned. "Each minute spent with you is a year off my life span."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not, Jay." he laughed.

Oh. I made him laugh.

"I can't tell if I'm joking or not, either, Satoru." I sighed.

"Oh, shiiit don't say my name like that." he purred, "You'll turn me on."

"Yeah?"

Is he joking around? Are we flirting flirting?

"Yeah..." he came closer, leaned down and pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. "You know what I think? I think you're not as big of a freak in bed as you've claimed. I bet you're a virgin or something."

I let out a laugh. "Nahhh! I'm a freak freak. The shit I'm into will make you look like a vanilla bitch. And although I may be a virgin — "

Satoru laughed. "Ah, I knew it. You're a virgin freak."

"Are you gonna do something about it or just stand there like a fuckin-g idiot?" I provoked.

"Fucking-g?" he mimicked my accent.

Satoru made a toothy grin and leaned down closer. His breath smelled like the hard candies he always sucked on during the day. My cheeks were burning.

He looked down and saw me squeezing my thighs together.

"Wow, wanna get to it then?" he lowered his voice, "Just let me fuck your brains out right here against the wall?" he joked flirtatiously.

"What if I'm into that?" I moved my body suggestively. My knee nudged his thigh.

He gave me a doubting grin.

"You'd feel sore after I'm through with you, sweetheart."

"Yeah yeah," I waved my hand dismissively, "Big talk, big talk. I could take you."

"Well... let's see about that at the party tonight, yeah?" he rasped.

"Fine." I sassed.

"Fine." he smirked. "See you tonight then."

"Okay. Whatever." rolled my eyes. "Don't be fucking late to the party, by the way you useless idiot."

"No promises." he winked as he backed away.

As soon as Satoru left, I let out a silent scream and bounced around like I just won the lotto. Funny, Choso came around the corner. He witnessed my little moment.

"What theee hell."

"Oh hey Choso. Small campus, huh?"

"Yeah this makes like what, three times we've encountered each other today?" he said.

"It's a sign from god, Choso; we're meant to be. The emo freak and the virgin freak. Match made in heaven." I said.

He stared at me with his heavy, indecipherable eyes. "Are you just horny all the time?"

"Yes." I answered straightly. "Sorry if I'm a bit much. I'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable." I went serious for a second.

He stuttered, "No, no — it's hot, I enjoy it. Just not used to being on the receiving end of this kind of attention." he looked away.

"Anyways, are you really coming tonight?" he asked with a light in his eyes, needy for an answer.

Hasn't he already asked me this?

"Yeah I'll be cumming for y— sorry. Kidding. Yes I'm coming tonight. I dunno about Sam. I really hope she comes with because she's my little angel, I need her to feel safe at parties — you know 'cause she does kickboxing and stuff." I said.

Choso nodded, "I get it. Well, if she doesn't come with to the party and you feel weird, you can cling to me all night; I'll be your guard dog."

My cheeks burned. "Yeah alright. Sounds good to me." I swayed my shoulders, making it a point to puff my chest out to show him how good this thin crop top showed off my breasts.

Poor Choso. He just caught one glance of boobs and went completely shy, stuttering and all, and covered his crotch with his textbook.

"Aw I wish I was a biology book." I lamented. "Sorry, joking. Actually no, I'm not."

"I-I've gotta go." he said.

"I'm sure you do." I flirted. "See yaaa."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[kindestofkings]

sunshine baby [2]

heyy you can find part one here!

yourusername posted to their story!

guys just woke up and have over 2,000 follow requests from people who love my boyfriend @bobby why the softlaunch

bobbyskeetz hahahahah Im prized goods but allll yours bobbyskeetz brb gonna go hardlaunch ya yourusername DONT YOU DARE

yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername a mad bittersweet week. some temporary goodbyes and I made my last coffee in THE BEST COFFEE SHOP IN DUBLIN, cause my boyfriend and his silly little band are in need of a piano player for a few gigs 🫣

view all 32 comments

bobbyskeetz ooooohhhh yeeahhhhh lets GO

ryanmcmahon_15 thank you for making our little boys dreams come true

joshjenkinson_ fr its his first good idea in years bobbyskeetz jenkinson you can not ruin my mood ;)

yourbestfriend IM SO HAPPY THE WORLD IS GONNA SEE MY SUPERTALENTED BESTFRIEND

yourusername i am freaking out, that god the girlies get so distracted by the four handsome devils (liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_) yourusername its me I am girlies

yourfriend1 dinner was amazing as always! keep us in the know about touring life!!

yourfriend2 gonna miss the free coffees, and you ofc :(

inhalerdublin

liked by yourusernames and others

inhalerdublin we still can’t believe you nearly broke the floor at this one. the greatest fans in the world. it's great to be back!

view all 210 comments

inhalerfan1 eli: "we're gonna ask you to please stop jumping, the floor is collapsing" hahahaa (73 likes)

inhalerfan2 we love you!!

inhalerfan3 who was on keys last night!?

inhalerfan1 I noticed they didnt introduce them, was defo not louis tho!

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername like paris in FOURTY FIVE the whole world's waiting to come aliveeee 🕺🕺

view all 20 comments

lewevans please please get over the shyness I have cute pictures of you that belong on inhalerdublin

yourusername hahaha im TRYING lewevans its also so refreshing taking pics of people that acc smile!! yourusername hahah they have a image to uphold you know this loll

inhalerfanupdates

liked by inhalerfan2 and others

inhalerfanupdates GUYS i got a really clear pic of the girl who's on keys for the boys at the moment!! so then I did some digging and found this photo of her with the ryan and eli a year or two ago, do you think they're friends from home?

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inhalerfan1 no stop shes sooo pretty

inhalerfanupdates Ikr ! she seems really shy tho I think thats why the boys dont introduce her, cause they used to with louis...

inhalerfan2 I think I'm gonna make her a cowboy hat! welcome her to the inhaler family!!

bobbyskeetz added to their story!

life is pretty great rn. barcelona you're next !

inhalerfanupdates

liked by inhalerfan2 and others

inhalerfanupdates this was sent in by inhalerfan2 who was at the barcelona show:

omg hi so Im just back from the inhaler show,they were obviously incredible! but I wanted to send you my pics of yn! who I made a cowboy hat for, she seems like the sweetest person ever, the first pic is her reading my sign (about making her a hat). then the second picture which is i think the most beautiful thing EVER, is her coming down to take it. after she stole josh's mic to thank me 😭💓

view all 22 comments

inhalerfan1 wow she is gorgeous. what were the boys doing during all of this hahah

inhalerfan2 they were loving it haha kept laughing and all, think eli said something like "if only we knew all it took was a cowboy to get her to say hi" inhalerfan2 also rob had major heart eyes for her the whole time

inhalerfan3 WAIT remember the soft launch rob posted a few months ago, i think the instagram username that replied to him had the name yn in it!!

inhalerfan2 awww wait do you think they're dating inhalerfan1 let her cook!

inhalerdublin

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

inhalerdublin we finally got the go ahead from our shyest (and sweetest) member of our crew! yourusername has been with us from the very beginning in music class and then in the recording studio for both albums, only felt right we got her on the road with us <33

📸 lewevans

view all 290 comments

inhalerfan1 OH MY GOD SHES SO BEAUTIFUL

yourusername ahhh my gonna cry you're so SWEET

inhalerfan2 not so patiently waiting for her to make her account public...

yourusername hey gorgeous I think it'll be another while yet until I do that sorry !! <33

bobbyskeetz angel on the keys

(liked by yourusername, ryanmcmahon_15, elijahhewson and joshjenkinson_)

inhalerfan2 called me single in a thousand ways

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend and others

yourusername romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours.

last few weeks have been a dream thank you boys, particular this handsome devil !!

view all 15 comments

bobbyskeetz ah would you stop! keep going...

elijahhewson 👍💪👊

yourusername old man you know what an emoji is??

yourbestfriend is he giving you back yet??

ryanmcmahon_15 never thought id see the day we'd get you on the band insta

yourusername me neither tbh, talk about some personal GROWTH! joshjenkinson_ feel like a proud mother 😭

bobbyskeetz added to their story!

home time with the don 💪

inhalerfan1 SHES SO PRETTY PASS IT ON

-finished-

[itsscromp]

Rocket Raccoon X reader

Hey everyone, I present to you a fic of the greatest marvel character ever, Vol 3 is my top movie of this year. Rocket means so so much to me. so without further delay, let's get into it. Word count:1K

It was hard. To put it into context, you were kidnapped from Earth when you were only 5. Sold onto the black market and forced into slavery. You were abused, manipulated and toyed with for 16 years. 16 flarking years !!!!.

By this point you've had enough, you planned a huge escape and barely managed to. Crashing onto a head called Knowhere. But you didn't care, you were free. Free from it all. But right now you need to survive, taking in odd bounty-hunting jobs no matter how small or large the unit amount was. You needed food and shelter. Sometimes it led to unconventional methods, you robbed people of their units, but this time you took it a tad bit too far, and it led to an assault with a nova corps officer off duty. The next minute you were held down as they cuffed you and transferred you to the Kyln prison. After being sanitized and changed into your prison attire, you were tossed into your cell.

"Hey easy pal !!"

"Shut up"

The guard locked the door and left, this couldn't get any worse.

"What are ya in for ??" A voice spoke up, you turned to find not any human or alien. It was... a raccoon. A talking raccoon who could stand on his two legs.

"What in the..."

"I ain't askin' again humie"

"Assault and battery."

This talking raccoon snorted. "That ain't even worse than what I've done."

You got up and laid down on your bed, Freaking uncomfortable.

"Got a name kid ??"

"Why do you wanna know ??"

The raccoon rolled his eyes. "It's what you humie's call lightening the mood."

"Humie ??"

"Just some nickname I give, now do you got a name or otherwise I'm just gonna call ya humie"

"Fine fine... Y/n. You ??"

"Name's Rocket, Now here's how It's gonna work out. You don/t get on my bad side and we'll be good, got that"

Y/n rolled their eyes and rolled over to the wall of their bed. "Fine by me"

Over time you noticed that the other prisoners weren't too kind too to Rocket. It made you a bit sad for him.

"Hey, freak how's it going ??" One said to him.

"Better now that I'm with your wife" Rocket looked up and smirked.

"Watch It rodent, or you'll get it" He kicked him, making Rocket fall to the ground. His tray filled with food now on his shirt.

"Flark nut !!!"

This agitated the prisoner and he stomped towards him ready for a fight. But he then felt a sharp pain in the jaw, from being punched by you.

"Leave him alone !!!"

The prisoner's friend lifted you off your feet by the collar of your shirt.

"Your gonna get it now..."

But then the guard broke up the fight and got you and Rocket away from them.

"You... You helped me ??"

"Yeah, I... I have a thing against jerks like that..."

Rocket couldn't help but feel somewhat grateful for how you helped him. His whole life no one helped him, he was always on his own. But then here you are.

"Hey kid, how bout you say we get outta here ??"

"How this is the most secure prison"

Rocket scoffed. "I've escaped 30 prisons before, this one is gonna be no different. But I will need your help, If we work together we can both get out ok ??"

"Ok... what's the plan Rocket ??"

"We wait until dinner time and I'll tell you then"

So a few hours later, Dinner time and everyone was gathering for their meals, You and Rocket got your food and sat at a separate table away from everyone.

"Ok, you see that dude with the keycard ??"

Y/n turned around gently to avoid suspicion and found a guard with a prison key card.

"I need you to get that key card and bring it back and I'll cause us a distraction."

You nod and got up, walking over to the guard. Without raising suspicion, you pick-pocketed the key card without getting the guard's or the prisoner's attention. You placed the key card into your pocket quickly and went back to Rocket.

"Got it, what next ??"

Rocket then looked around and then began his distraction, scooping up some food onto his spoon and accurately flinged it at a prisoner and watched the entire thing unfold.

"Now, let's go while the guards are distracted."

The two then snuck away from the fight and then found their belongings.

"Surprisingly they aren't that good" Rocket chuckled and gathered his belongings.

"You telling me" Y/n quickly changed out of their prison attire and the two then went to find a getaway ship. But as they did, the alarm went off.

"Me and my big flarking mouth"

"Return to your cells immediately or we will use lethal force" The guard yelled at them.

'Run !!!" Y/n shouted as the two ran to find a ship, avoiding the flying bullets. Rocket was running slightly faster as he was running on all four's.

"Over there !!" Rocket found a ship and then began to hack into the door. but as y/n caught up to his, they felt a graze on their leg. One of the bullets grazed their thigh and began to bleed, You started to limp quickly as Rocket got the door open.

"Come on, come on, get on humie !!"

The two then managed to get onto the ship and started it up, jumping far away from the prison, into a part of the galaxy away from them.

You started to smile as you cheered on.

"We did it !!!"

"Hehe, hell yeah we did kid !!"

Y/n kept cheering but felt the sting of the graze. "Ow ow"

"Hang on I'll be right back"

Rocket then went around the ship and found a med pad and strapped it onto your thigh, activating it. You felt a slight pain as he then took it off, your wound gone.

"The galaxy keeps just surprising me"

"Guess so, look y/n.. your a good kid... and I uhhh.." He scratched behind his neck "I was wondering.. if you uhh... want to stick together ??"

You looked at him for a little bit before smiling and nodding. and with that, an epic friendship was created.

Taglist @callofdudes @rogertaylorswift @mybelovedraccoon

[tialinffxiv]

FFXIV Writing Challenge 2024

Prompt #3: Tempest

A short story in the Pirates AU we have with RP partner for Tia and Rhanmai- because I love it and always wanted to write more about it. And I could finally make bigger use of this "novel cover" thing I did a while ago~

“Captain Lin, sir! I report that the whole crew is present and ready to sail out.”

Red-headed Viera man paused his slow stroll along the broadside of his beloved ship- Hyperion. The still fresh leader on this deck was deep in his thoughts: a few hours prior they were ambushed by the gang under rival ship's flag- one which he only heard stories about so far but now had a chance to meet in person, alas at the expense of part of the loot and a bruise on his pride. “Excellent. Check the galley’s inventory as well.”

When the young crewmate saluted and walked away, Tia leaned on the hard wood of the broadside. His men didn’t suffer any more serious injuries, which was the best news. They lost 3 crates from the loot they just managed to dig out from the wreck at the shore of this paradise island. Two things in all this was not letting him rest his mind: the ambusher’s strike was very precise and it was clear they aimed for those specific chests. As for the other thing- it was his very own chest: precisely the strange feeling that was not leaving him even now.

Amidst the sudden attack Tia found himself facing the captain of a rival unit: a very tall Au Ra man with dark scales contrasting with his pale skin and shimmering in the sunlight. His long, silky hair flowing onto sharp horns; his long tail cut through the air as the man rested hand on the hip and graced the young captain with a sweet smile. “Ah, so the rumors are indeed true- Hyperion has new blood at its helm!” Au Ra eyed Tia from head to toes, as Viera took a battle stance, gritting his teeth, beautifully decorated rapier ready in his hand. “I’m honored to finally meet you, Captain Lin.”

Tia was not in the mood for pleasantries. Trying to take a chance while the man seemed wide open, he jumped towards him, aiming for his stomach- which was the easiest spot given their height difference- and readying a spell, to knock the man out. Unfortunately, he never had much practice against opponents armed with long and very strong tails- one swing of it hit his side and stunned in place for just long enough for Au Ra to get behind him and put a steel grip on his sword-wielding arm. Tia cursed under breath and lifted his other hand, aether forming into an orb of bright light- and then dissipating when Au Ra grabbed his wrist and twisted it, blocking his movements.

What happened… why was he so easily blocked, just like that… why he was so unfocused, distracted by the light reflecting on the man’s dark scales. Why was his heart pounding in his chest so- it was not his first fight, the rush of battle never hit him so abruptly, rendering him so defenseless.

Tia suddenly became very aware of the heat of the other man’s body while he pressed on his back, still holding him in a merciless lock- now leaning down to his long ear, his voice slightly vibrating on the low, alluring tones: “Rumors doesn’t do justice to your charming self at all, oh fierce ruby of the sea. You would make a fine addition to my personal treasures.”

Viera stopped his tries of wriggling out of the man’s hands, so much he was surprised and baffled by his words- and the whole situation. He could feel the heat building in his body, reaching up his face and heart fluttering in his chest. Distracted and trying to make any sense of all this and stopping mind from snapping back to the pressure on his back- he didn’t even notice that the grip on his arms loosened. Only when the tall man stepped back, robbing him from this closeness and the scent enchanting his senses, did the young captain manage to shake it off and get back a hold on his stance and mind. He turned instantly, ready to attack but to no avail- Au Ra jumped away, bowed to him with a smirk decorating his lips and with a gesture of hand and short shout ordered his crew to return. “Come back here, lizard bastard!” Tia ran after him but again failed to reach his target, cursing the Twelve under his breath as he stood there, watching his opponent getting away all victorious, heart nearly jumping out of his chest.

It was for sure a stain on his pride to be so easily defeated. And now he still couldn’t make sense of his own reaction for all this. Couldn’t shake the feeling off… That chaos in his mind and chest. That… that… how to best describe it…

“…storm, sir.”

“Ah yes… that’s very matching, indeed.”

“Uhm… captain?”

Tia blinked and turned to the crewmate who stood there staring at him, with concern all over his face. “I’m sorry… You were saying?…”

“Silent Meadow says that the sea is changing- we’re expecting a heavy storm, sir.” He paused, gazing over the captain. “Are you sure you were unharmed in the attack, sir?”

“Ah, yes, I’m fine. Just still shaken and all. Please don’t worry. And inform the crew that we will spend a night on this island after all. We’re not risking sailing out into the tempest.”

The young man saluted and returned to the rest to deliver news. Tia exhaled heavily, rubbing temples. “Get a hold of yourself, idiot…” he murmured to himself. And yet, no matter how much he tried to cleanse his mind and focus on his captain’s duties- the touch of that man was still burning on his skin and the scent lingering on his clothes was messing with his mind. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was the most dangerous storm he ever sailed into.

[starqueensthings]

Summary: chapter starts after a three-week time jump. June and Challa have just completed another lesson on the combat base and continue to struggle with the students. After forming a plan of attack, June reenters the base and quickly gets disoriented attempting to find her way out. Anxiety begins to boil as she finds herself somewhat cornered in a dead end hallway… until someone arrives to save the day

Rating/WC: all chapters are 16+ for subject matter unless otherwise noted | 6835 words (she’s a long one, folks!)

WARNINGS: mild graphic language, mild anxiety.

A/N: not particularly proud of this chapter, but I’ve worked and reworked it too many times now… my brain is turning into scrambled egg. As always, if you see typos, run on sentences, and/or passive verbs… no you don’t.

PLEASE ENSURE YOU’VE READ THE FOREWORD LINKED BELOW FOR AN IN-DEPTH DESCRIPTION OF WHAT DEGREE OF CONTENT YOU CAN EXPECT THROUGHOUT THIS STORY BEFORE PROCEEDING.

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | ao3

“Maybe I'll just drag the whole desk to the back corner…” June groused, the acerbic nature of her current mood completely laid bare by both the bite neath her words, and the emphatic yank she offered that connection cord as she tugged it from the port in Challa’s tablet. “I know it’s not going to solve anything, but… I have to do something. I'm losing my mind, and I know you are too.”

Though he granted her an indulgent snort whilst hoisting his bag on to the podium and peeling the zipper apart to rehome his trusted device, his succeeding response failed to match the antipathy surging through his colleague’s boiling blood. “Yes,” he began with a sigh. “Securing their attention today did prove particularly challenging.”

While the true vitriol of which she yearned to voice vied desperately to escape the corral behind pursed lips, she permitted only a small huff to escape her nose, as the notion of inciting yet another potentially caustic discussion about how that century of troopers continuously failed to offer them the respect their title should merit, promised to only intensify the disgust she felt toward those students, and the dejection that had long-since robbed Challa’s eyes of that neon ambition.

Instead, only a frustrated sigh was granted its leave, obscenely rattling her lips as it fled the tense container of her chest, and though that laden breath did momentarily succeed in dissipating a portion of the ire she’d trapped in her jaw during that near-tortuous three-hour lecture, it was a mere second before her upper lip began to flatten in earnest atop the vivid recollection of a soldier in the first row assaulting her taciturn perch behind the desk by winking and licking his lips at near-regular intervals.

Correctly recognizing the disgruntlement neath that poignant exhale (having heard it depart her scowling lips on countless occasions), Challa cast her something near an apologetic glance, lips compressed into a thin line of sympathy whilst a ruminative silence saturated the air between them.

And though she avidly sought any sense of resolution to the behaviour that saw her deliberately hidden behind her datapad twice a week for a trio of hours, Challa’s countering silence was not fuelled by the dismissive finality it would have appeared to be, but by the considerate notion of repeating words already spoken only threatened to exacerbate her merciless chagrin; he’d been audience to her exasperated invective a handful of times now, including the off-site meeting last weekend where the pair discussed June’s frustration ad nauseum amidst hopes it may appease some portion of her distress.

“There isn’t a single cell in my body that doesn’t sympathize with you, June,” he’d assuaged upon the reemergence of her grievances, pausing only to hand her a fresh mug of homemade caf and take a seat atop the only sofa cushion they hadn’t blanketed in several weeks worth of upcoming lesson plans. “And while it won’t offer the consolation you seek, watching it unfold from behind the podium is quite disheartening; I can certainly understand why you must feel something of ‘a fish in a bowl’. You see, from what Eagle divulged during our tour, you are one of very few women granted access to the combat base; the remaining majority are Jedi, whose allotted military rank commands an inherent degree of respect from the clones, and a handful of nosey senators who turn their noses up and see themselves out within minutes of arriving. To compound the issue further, our audience presents as quite undersocialized due to the geographical seclusion of the planet they’ve only recently departed. But this true challenge is this—” He paused to shift his weight against the arm of the sofa, balancing his own hot mug on his knee with one hand, while the other draped atop the backrest of the seat beside him. “—If you remember, our contract explicates that we, under no circumstances, are to act as disciplinarians. The nature of their training requires that soldiers be reprimanded with consistent, particular practices to ensure any resulting resentment does not impact the resolve of their loyalty to their superiors or the objective. For us to enforce a punishment of any variation would act as both a disservice to their training and a breach of our contract. Eagle has advised me that we can report any… misbehaviour… to him, but— I’m sorry, June, it must remain at that.”

Today had seen their sixth lesson brought to completion amid an unchanged dynamic, though thanks to some tacit premise, the troopers had apparently earmarked lessons on Zhellday mornings as an opportunity for an uninhibited nap away from the castigation of their superior officers. Quickly identifying that unexpected, yet, welcome placidity as the perfect means to enact a tidbit of revenge for their abysmal behaviour, June proceeded to let her datapad fall with a thunderous bang atop that desk at first sign of those lids beginning to droop, stifling a series of dubious giggles with pursed lips as their eyes sprang open and their shoulders jerked in alarm.

But those micro moments of vengeance, while instantly effective at boosting her morale, were fleeting at most. Sadly, each of the four lessons they’d notched into their belt was accompanied by a dispirited, post-class conversation about how little those soldiers seemed to be engaging with that so-imperative content. Challa, who had spent sleepless days… weeks… meticulously crafting that course curriculum to ensure every lecture was laden with the knowledge that promised to extend the lives of his students, had taken their arrant disinterest very personally. That once-springing step had returned to something-near a flat footed slap as he moped around the hospital, those already narrow shoulders sagging even further beneath a rejection of which he could not understand, and did not know how to rectify.

Though June had seized every possible opportunity to grouse in Jacoba’s ear about the recurrent salacious etiquette of those students (including a detailed depiction of every licentious hand gesture made across the room in her direction), the magnitude of Challa’s perceived failure, and how wholly it had robbed him of that once-aflamed determination, managed to supercede her own discomfort. Following in his wake as he slumped down those dark, industrial halls toward the amphitheater of their apparent ineptitude saw her less wary about the repugnance that would, undoubtedly, surge beneath her skin in only minutes, and more concerned about how long Challa could willingly stand behind that podium and wordlessly beg that century of soldiers for the attention he knew would prognosticate their safety if they would only listen.

He thanked June in a little more than a mumble as she slid his datapad into his bag, thoughtlessly reconnecting its buckles and tossing it over his shoulder amidst a poignant sigh. After collecting her own, much smaller bag from the floor behind teacher’s desk, the duo crossed the room in silence. Desperate to create separation from the potent frustration still fuelling her heart's aggressive cadence, and because she’d long-since lost the invaluable map stashed away on their first day, June fell into a brooding gait behind her boss and pulled her holopad from her purse, all-too willing to let his presence half-a-step ahead guide her back through the maze of that still unknown compound.

“They’re just not connecting to the material like I thought they would,” Challa mused as they neared the heavy durasteel door that would permit their reentry to the civilian world. “I truly believed that the promise of a complete, theoretical knowledge of combat medicine would see them intrigued at least. Though, I’m now realizing that may have been a gross overestimation.”

“They’re intrigued all right,” June griped from behind him, blue eyes narrowed slightly as they scanned the surgical schedule she’d accessed via the device still cradled in her hands, “By my chest...”

He sighed again, palm thoughtlessly reaching to massage the tension that heavy brow seemed unable to release as the door to the speeder lot slid open, bathing them in effulgent midday sunlight. “Perhaps I need to revisit the lecture content,” he suggested, politely gesturing for her to cross the threshold ahead of him whilst shifting his hand to shield his eyes from the unexpected, yet, welcome onslaught of spring sun. “Perhaps I’ll need to further trim some objectively tedious areas, and propagate othe–”

“You know we can’t tweak any more of the content,” June rebutted quickly upon hearing the despondency behind those words, and it required only a fleeting glance upward to recognize the strain amid his lissome features as he gnawed the insides of his cheeks. “We entertained that option last week, and it’s not feasible. You were extremely intentional with the material you assigned to each lecture; it’s all information they need to learn before they get deployed or they’re not going to last any longer than the first generation medics. And, if that’s the case, we’re wasting our tim—”

“Then what do you suggest?” Challa hissed back, long fingers falling to his side in something near despair as he halted upon that threshold.

June froze half a breath later, that biting exasperation rendering her unsurprised as she turned to find those violet eyes narrowed amidst the same undeniable appeal for help that had soaked his plea… and she near-cowered under its intensity. Averting her own gaze to the loose gravel beneath her shoes, she upheld an apologetic silence, entirely unable to provide him the solution that he so desperately sought.

“I eagerly await any suggestion you may have, June,” he pressed, offering a one-shouldered shrug that instantly exposed his distress. “Anything. I need your infamous, out-of-the-box insight. I need you to attune that inherent clone-connection and help me establish a means of liaising with them, because most of them want nothing to do with me or this class, and it's going to undoubtedly cost them their lives.”

“I know, but— How am I— What do I—”

Hurrying to bridle that slew of indignant stammers, she pursed her lips, though despite each emotion-fuelled protest battling that restriction atop at her tongue, June was largely cognizant that voicing any or all of those weak arguments would only serve a disservice in their feat of finding a solution. And worse still, beneath that awareness was an uncomfortably effervescent layer of near-guilt; though she’d always rebuffed the continuously implied notion of ‘clone fluency’ to which she’d been, apparently, divinely imbued, there was no denying that the visceral distaste of the soldiers’ mild derogation had almost entirely eclipsed the commitment she’d once promised to this project and her friend.

“Anything,” he repeated, closing the space between them and putting a discerning hand on her shoulder.

“What if—” she started slowly, clamping her eyes closed atop a need to abscond from those anguished, violet eyes. “I don’t know… What if we just change our approach to the lecture content?”

His call for answers now saw Challa silent… frozen… seemingly unwilling to proffer even a breath lest it rob her of the incipient proposal he so ardently coveted.

It took a series of forceful blinks to fully eradicate the blur from June’s vision upon meeting his gaze again, as reopening her eyes had seen them instantly rebuke the power of that gleaming sun, and though that brief moment of pseudo-solitude via visual darkness helped appease the remaining dregs of her ire, the duress of his expectant gaze seemed only reinvigorated by that uncharacteristic patience.

“Well if they’re going to just sit there and be distracted,” June began, nodding over her shoulder toward where their respective speeders sat side by side before continuing on the journey across that crunchy, gravel lot. “Why can’t we use that to our advantage? Why can’t we find a way to distract them with the information? Why can’t we get their dicks out of their hands, and put MedScanners in them instead?”

She cast him a sidelong glance as she neared her speeder bike, wholly expecting that near-vulgar comment to have elicited some degree of silent condemnation from his prudish and scornful lips, but, to her surprise, there was nothing of the sort. Even the intensity of the plea behind those eyes had been replaced by a pensive cogitation.

“Hmm.” She watched his focus dart to and fro between proliferating ideas known only to his exceptional mind, that heavy brow furrowing with each passing breath, whilst little more than quiet murmurs escaped those thin lips. “Well, that’s… that could prove… hmm… attentive? Well, certainly. Yes… but perhaps both?… Both…”

June took the opportunity presented by that regenerated rumination to swap her holopad for her bike keys at the bottom of her bag, deftly unlocking the hidden compartment below her seat and tossing her purse carelessly into its depths.

“This holds potential,” Challa posed as she latched it closed again. “Holds promise even, if handled correctly. And dare I say— it may be your best idea yet.”

“I like the sounds of that,” she answered atop the ghost of a chuckle as she prepared to toss a leg over the seat of her bike. “But probably smart to chat about it later tonight. You’ve got a neuroendoscopy on the books in like ten minut—”

“And— well… I think our best chances of success lay in your very capable hands.”

His tone brightened almost as rapidly as that dejection seeped from his features, something resembling a prickling confidence erupting behind his eyes and stealing her attention so abruptly that her hands simply froze midway between their previous perch on her hip, and the handlebars to which she had begun to reach.

Eyes quickly narrowing under a burgeoning suspicion, she peered back at her boss, the harrowing implications of his vague proposal forcing her toe back toward that compacted dust below.

“What do you mean?” she asked him slowly, her own tone darkening amidst a question that hardly needed asking, the inference of that near-dubious smirk tugging upward on his lips instantly providing her the truth she needn’t have probed for. “Challa, you better not be on the brink of asking me t—”

”I’d like you to lead the next lecture. I think having, as you would say, ‘their dicks in their hands’ may actually prove beneficial if their MedTools are in the other.”

“Are you kidding me?” June near-gasped, followed by an incredulous laugh as she glared slack-jawed and completely perplexed toward her audacious boss. “Are you insane? Have we not been sitting in the same classroom for the last two weeks? Half of them aren’t listening to you because they’re staring at me. How is putting me behind the p—”

“Precisely,” he interrupted with an infuriating simplicity. “If my hypothesis bears any merit, and they typically do, these troopers may just be more willing to listen to the person they’re staring at. After all, June, you can not deny that you have their attention, whether it's the way you’d like or not.”

“It’s not—”

“And who knows,” he pressed on as if she hadn’t attempted to interject. “If the plan proves effective, you may be able to teach them a little respect while you’re at it.”

‘Not a chance,’ she thought instantly with an indignant shake of the head.

Every passing second saw Challa’s brows lift ever higher toward the top of his head whilst that duo remained near-locked in a battle of opposing insistence, the maddening smirk atop his lips rivaled by the equally potent scowl atop her own; each of them adamantly refusing to procure the white flag of concession and let it flutter in that beautiful spring zephyr.

“What’d’ya say we just try?” he urged upon watching her arms knot across her chest in a gesture of unrestrained obstinance. “It doesn’t have to be permanent, but it’s a viable option in the interim while we brainstorm other facets. Please?”

June sighed heavily. Filled with a mounting regret for even having uttered the wanton remark that triggered this unwelcome scheme, she peered sternly through the veil of her lashes whilst her lips compressed to withhold another incredulous scoff. There was precisely nothing appealing about this idea… nothing except it had returned that paralyzingly hopeful smile to Challa’s face.

“Fine,” she spat at him. “But there better be a bottle of Alderanian purple wine on my desk tomorrow morning. Black label with the wax top.”

She watched his nimble fingers ball inward into fists and shoot toward the sky amidst a motion of unadulterated glee, a cry of delight leaving his lips as he reached to readjust the bag now slipping earnestly off his shoulder amidst his mirthful motions.

“And if there’s even one comment about my anatomy…” she warned, pointing a menacing finger toward his chest. “I will break someone’s nose.”

“Understood,” Challa agreed, arms swinging awkwardly as if he’d briefly entertained the urge to throw them around her shoulders in an embrace of gratitude, but thought better of it lest he return to work in need of an urgent nasal realignment. ”Let’s meet in my office later to discuss details. I know we weren’t planning on opening the MedKits until much later in the course but I think it may be prudent to—”

”Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she grumbled. “We’ll talk later. Now get going! You have brain surgery in three minutes.”

Challa dashed across that speeder lot and clambered into his air speeder with the same urgency that had seen him trotting down the hall for their first ever lecture with June breathlessly attempting to keep up from half a pace behind him, and the sudden return to that beaming optimism was the only thing presently keeping her from groaning her potent displeasure aloud.

“And I want a Cleanser Tube for my apartment!” she shouted to his retreating figure, watching his speeder hover soundlessly atop the ground toward the exit, and he offered her only a small wave before departing that deserted lot and disappearing into the skyway.

Having heard her outcry through that permeable, barbed gate, the troopers flanking either side turned toward her, smiles hidden behind their buckets; the one on the left quietly muttering a disgruntled ‘civvies…’ before quickly returning to his straight-backed post.

It wasn’t until June had swung her leg over her seat and kicked that bike into life did her bespoiled mood reach a sinister and unprecedented apex, the momentary peace gained by the promise of a premium bottle of her favourite wine was instantly usurped by a sudden realization… the hoarse chuckle leaving the lips of the trooper loitering just outside that barbed barrier had sounded immediately familiar, and hardly a moment passed amidst a burgeoning puzzlement before she’d placed that sound. The unshaven trooper in the administration office had once granted her that same gruff chortle, hurrying to erect himself from an almost complete recline atop that worn desk chair; overgrown brows reaching toward his unkempt hairline and that gravelly snicker escaping his lips as she attempted to prevaricate his request for a formal introduction by offering her name in little more than a mumble before hastily dropping a folder into the intake tray on his desk… the attendance folder that they’d forgotten to return today amid their haste to leave.

”Noooooo,” she cried aloud, head tipping toward that glorious blue sky while her hands released their grip on the handlebars and slumped heavily into her lap.

Having failed to read her contract in its entirety (a truth she’d sooner pitch herself over the mouth of the underworld than admit to), June wasn’t entirely sure what repercussions would ensue if they failed to provide that completed document at the end of each lesson; she typically just simply followed in Challa’s wake as he tucked the folder neath his arm and marched them safely through those bustling corridors. And worse than having to endure the potential consequences of their negligence, she wasn’t even entirely sure she’d have the wherewithal to find her way to their classroom and back without him.

“Ugh,” she growled, killing the engine of her bike with an aggressive crank of the key and clambering off, feet thudding atop that gravel with renewed wrath. “Why? Why does the Maker hate me so? What could I have done in my past life…”

The hallway sitting opposite of that heavy durasteel barrier presented as utterly foreign in the complete void of her boss’s presence. Surely there hadn’t always been that many corridors adjacent to this one, branching out of sight through what seemed to be several dozen more doors than she remembered that wide hallway ever housing? And only increasing that rapidly emerging dread, it seemed whichever fool tasked with designing this contained community had opted to ensure that every threshold looked damn-near identical to the one next to it.

Swallowing what she could of that injustice still asimmer in her gut, she fit her thumbnail between her teeth, eyes darting fervently from one threshold to the next amid a desperate effort to orient herself while she stepped cautiously back into the dim of that esoteric corridor.

‘Damnit, what was it that he said?’ she asked herself, brow furrowing atop the effort to correctly recall Challa’s breathless rambling as he first led them to their classroom several weeks ago. ‘Eleventh door on the right, not including the elevator?’

Her feet took her apprehensively toward the first corridor on the left, eyes darting around for any sign or semblance of familiarity.

‘One… two… three,’ she counted as she trod down the hall, the lingering disdain for her boss entirely diminished by how desperately she wished his embossed lekku were swaying in tune with his step, half a pace in front of her and unknowingly shepherding her through that network of foreign pathways.

The eleventh door looked like nothing she’d ever attempted to enter before. An archaic chrome door handle sat off center in that steel barricade, and try as she might, she simply could not remember ever having needed to turn a handle on her regular journey through these halls, as modern overhead sensors typically activated touch-free upon approach. The tenth door however, immediately adjacent on her right, was an open threshold leading into a much narrower corridor.

“Okay… now last door on the left before the stairwell,” she recalled through the tight clamp of her teeth, immediately turning to pass through that promising entryway. “At least… I think?”

The sound of her sneakers atop that gleaming black floor reverberated near-thunderously around the otherwise deserted hallway, that rhythmic pat pat mixed with the assaulting pound of her heart in her ears worked in stereo to intensify the foreboding in her gut as she neared the last door on the left.

“Please be the right kriffing door,” she pleaded to that empty space, collecting the ID card from her pocket and scanning it across the control panel.

But that acknowledging beep was too familiar, and with a warm wash of relief that door slid aside to expose the now welcome comfort of her classroom. Immediately apparent, and seemingly deriding her negligence with its innocent perch atop that barren desk, was that vapid flimsi folder, and June withheld none of the curses spilling from her lips as she crossed the stage to collect it.

‘Okay, now where is that kriffing Admin office,’ she demanded silently, tucking her prize under her arm and closing the door behind her again. ‘I know it’s next to those big glass doors that lead outside…’

She walked cautiously back in the direction of that central hall, careful to count doorways as they passed through her periphery. She offered nothing but a small snort as a goateed trooper in armour of white and cobalt blue passed her in the hall, charismatically asking if she needed help finding her way back to heaven, though thankfully met no other presence as she rounded a series of subsequent corners.

A cresting wave of pride and serendipitous fortune had her near-leaping on the spot as she turned to find that familiar, broad corridor— the transparent walls of her destination immediately recognizable thanks to their uncanny ability of reflecting the dazzling light pouring in through those neighbouring glass doors, that gargantuan threshold leading to what looked like an oversized, albeit barren, courtyard beyond.

“Hi. Sorry this is late. I hope that’s okay …Bye.”

Her address to the protocol droid behind the counter was near pathetic, offering nothing more but a pitiful apology whilst extracting the folder from under her arm and tossing it haphazardly into the “incoming documents” tray as the sound of her voice near-instantly arose that very scruffy, very tired looking soldier from his perch behind that cluttered desk.

June darted from the room before he could open his mouth to instigate conversation, instead letting the door thud heavily behind her and taking a hurried right turn down the nearest hall… then an immediate left… another left… until…

“Oh no.”

A dead end. She groaned under her breath as her eyes darted toward the unexpected limitations of that tenebrous corridor, its unwelcome appearance quickly forcing a theatrical slump to her shoulders. “Where am I now? And where is that damn map I had?”

Right hand thoughtlessly tapping the cargo pocket in her pants, as if that flimsi key to a successful exodus would suddenly appear to aid in her exploits, she fit the thumbnail of her left between her teeth again and sighed. But she was granted barely a second to dwell in the regret of her own stupidity before her stomach sank ever further…

A collection of resounding, nonmetrical footsteps met her ears, escorted by the blare of a conversation so raucous it was entirely indiscernible from the echo that succeeded every booming word. A choir of hoarse, throaty laughter rang around the corners of her perch, and though that conversation remained mummed by the anxiety of their incipient arrival, ungluing her shoes from the durasteel floor to evade that unseen crowd, proved a task near impossible as each passing second drew them nearer. Any second now they’d pass across the mouth of her semi secluded position. Would they see her? And how many were they? The near-identical nature of their voices meant it was impossible to discern one from the other, but their footsteps? Four? Maybe five?

She swallowed and turned her back, bringing her fingers uselessly to her face so she could mindlessly stare at the abhorrent destruction of her thumbnail, and feign some degree of nonchalance lest one of the intruders notice her attempt to eschew their company.

“Jigs is kriffing di’kut.”

“Nah, he’s a beauty.”

“You know you give them way too long of a leash… all your men.”

“Why shouldn’t I? None of us signed up for this. Who's to say we can’t find a little fun here and there while we’re waiting to dance in the sky?”

“Uhhhh, maybe your CO?”

“Meh, Ponds loves me. I get things done. He doesn’t care how I do it as long as he can check my missions off his list and my casualty numbers stay low.”

“So he says to your face. Maker, I hope I’m around to see the day your ass is assigned a Jedi.”

“I don’t know, Keels. My General is pretty reckless too. Skywalker doesn’t seem to have any interest in playing by the rules…”

It wasn’t until her lungs began to protest the duress of that held breath did the chorus begin to taper, words obscuring as distance robbed them of their once undeniable clarity, further muffling that banter with every step past her unseen perch. She’d barely permitted a sigh of relief to escape her lips, turning back around to continue her now plightful crusade back to the speeder lot, when something caught her eye.

A meticulously cropped head of dark hair suddenly poked back around the corner at the mouth of that hallway, followed moments later by a set of twinkling amber eyes… an impossibly angular jaw… a teal pauldron…

“June?”

The recollection of her name was proven instantly redundant by the expression atop his features, as it near-perfectly enacted the same adorably pleasant confusion once adorned several weeks ago upon their first meeting in 18-S, and though the lambency neath that olive skin could only mean he’d found himself a few good meals and several nights of rest, there was no mistaking the lopsided smile peeling across those now-supple lips as he back peddled into her line of sight.

“Howzer,” she near-choked as the breath inhaled to replace its stale counterpart froze midway to her lungs at the familiar sight of that gallant, white-and-teal kit.

The intoxicating blend of surprise and relief sent her skin atingle as he stepped toward her, the metallic thud of impenetrable boots atop thick steel that, seconds prior, had seen her heart hammering heavily against the walls of her chest, seemed now entirely muffled by the stupefaction coursing through her veins, and though her feigned composure was betrayed by how earnestly her cheeks enflamed as he drew nearer, she could not bridle the smile peeling across her own face.

Howzer came to a halt half a step in front of her, beaming lips parting to seemingly offer some sort of salutation to accompany the reddening of his own ears, but—

“Ey! Howz! Where the kriff are you going? We’re going to be late!”

The captain failed to answer that stern and reproachful summon from round the corner, refusing to deviate his gaze from her as his head shifted a mere millimeter toward that reverberating nag; honeyed eyes narrowing slightly beneath a burgeoning confusion, as if concerned they may be playing tricks on him, as if her seemingly inexplicable appearance may be little more than a cruel mirage.

June stood rooted to the spot, chest heaving amidst the surging adrenaline of first being stranded in this foreign maze of corridors, suddenly cornered, then thrust unceremoniously in front of the very person that wielded an inexplicable power to freeze the air in her lungs.

“What— what are you doing here?” Howzer asked neath a suppressed chuckle, shifting his helmet in its confine below his arm.

“I— Well, I’m kinda lost to be honest.” Her admission came atop an embarrassed snicker of her own, and when attempting to flex the relentless tingle from her fingers proved fruitless, she wrenched her gaze from the teal stripe extending down his chestplate and scanned her surroundings instead.

“Lost?” he repeated, dark brows furrowing slightly. “You’re a long way from the hospital, Mesh—”

“Howz! Come on!”

Again he ignored the demanding call of his hidden comrade, and the continued refusal to wrench his gaze from her despite an apparently urgent appointment had her bottom lip disappearing behind her teeth to intercept the threat of another bashful smirk.

“You don’t say…” she chirruped, offering a goofy smile whilst absently reaching to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “No, I know. I’m… I’m actually helping my boss out. We have a teaching contract with the medic cadets here for the next few months.”

The superficial lines around his eyes, aiding in that adorable furrow and reinforcing the notion that those globes of amber brown had likely seen a lot more than most of his younger bretheren, disappeared entirely as they widened in surprise, lips shifting to compress into a grimace of something near reverence.

“Oh wow,” he answered, gaze dancing warmly across her features as if she’d divulged something truly impressive or prodigious. “That makes sense, actually. I should have known when they said ‘blue eyes’.”

“Who said what…?”

“The shinies. They’ve been whispering non-stop about this ‘hot new civvie’ for weeks.”

As if arriving on cue to reintensify her simmering resentment for that continued execrable behaviour, the memory of that salacious, lip-licking soldier erupted in her mind anew, bringing with it a surge of anger strong enough to rid her cheeks of that flush and send her gaze rolling toward the ceiling.

“Ugh… I hope you’re joking,” she guffawed, readjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder and knotting her arms over her chest.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Howzer answered, the smile still hitched to those lips falling only slightly as his gaze narrowed to perceive her overt disdain. “You do have unbelievable blue eyes tho—”

“Howzer!”

“I’ll catch up!” He cocked that sharp jaw over his shoulder only far enough to shout the sentiment down the dark corridor, the rest of his features still surveying her with a curious intrigue until the echo of his vociferation dissipated. “Is class just starting? Or are you heading out?”

“Heading out,” she answered, unfolding her arms from their drape across her chest. “Primeday’s and Zhellday’s we teach until 11, and I just go to work from here.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, that alluring smile peeling back across those lips before tipping his wrist to check the time. “11, huh? Maybe I can take you on a little tour before you go? Show you around? Might save you from getting lost next tim—”

”Does that di’kut not know the Commanders are sitting in? Howzer! LET’S GO!”

”Just leave him, Keels. He said it himself, he’s Ponds’s favourite anyway. He’ll be fine.”

June pursed her lips to prevent the chortle erupting in her chest from spilling from her mouth, as Howzer’s heavy sigh of frustration laid bare that he didn’t find the merciless pestering from his companions nearly as amusing as she did. They locked eyes for a second as she choked back her laughter, a derisive snort leaving his nose as he shook his head.

“Kinda seems like you might have somewhere you need to be,” June snickered, gesturing with a nod in the direction of that unseen search party, their dulcet tones still ringing around the vacant corners of that corridor.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he sighed sadly. “At least let me walk you out?”

”I would actually appreciate that,” June answered in earnest. “I feel like I could wander around here for a decade and still never make it out because all the damn doors look the same.”

Heat resurged to her cheeks as he tipped his head back and laughed, sightlessly shifting his helmet to nestle under his other arm as he met her gaze again. “You’re not wrong,” he snorted. “Where abouts are you parked?”

“Um…” she started, an apologetic grimace distorting her features upon the realization that her indolent habit of simply following Challa both through the skyway and down those halls had rendered her more naive and unprepared than she ever thought she would be. “I’m not sure what lot. The one beside the big purple tarps?”

“North,” he answered immediately. “Not actually that far from here so you didn’t wander for long.”

His posture shifted away from her only long enough to gesture that she proceed back the way she came before falling into stride on her right only a moment later, and it wasn’t until he’d peered down at her with a bashful smile that she remembered just how imposing he was in that dominating suit.

‘He was half naked last time you saw him,’ she quickly reminded herself in an effort to justify why she’d hadn’t previously made note of the significant difference in their stature, though the recollection of his bare form had her instantly wishing the subtle, earthy aroma of his aftershave wasn’t wafting down at her and intensifying that incessant tingle neath her skin.

“How’d the cut heal up?” she asked as they rounded another corner, vying that her tone remain casual.

“Oh, good as new,” Howzer replied, casting her an appreciative smile. “You did a great job. I don’t mind the scar either… It’s a good story.”

June bit back the grin attempting to make an appearance in light of his passive praise, instead turning to offer him a cocked-brow of skepticism. While the laceration itself had been a doozy, she couldn’t recall the tale behind it being overly thrilling or harrowing enough to boast about.

“Must be a different story than the one you told me,” she teased. “Unless you’re telling your friends it was that ‘knife wielding maniac’?”

“I might be,” Howzer replied with a guilty grin of his own. “Nah… there isn’t a better story than getting patched up by the prettiest doctor in the galaxy… and it’s not even a lie.”

“Maker have mercy,” she scoffed, attempting to prevent the butterflies in her stomach from escaping through her mouth with a pursed lip smile. “That was cripplingly cheesy.”

Those twinkling eyes vanished beneath crinkled lids as his head tipped backward again, and that same loud chortle escaped his lips and raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

“It was, wasn’t it?” he chuckled. “And it’s not really my style, but my brother said it was bound to work if I could ever get lucky enough to see you again. How’d I do?”

She offered him a one-shouldered, jesting shrug, feigning indifference with a passive grimace and watching the bashful smile peeling across his lips. “What is your style?”

“My style?” he repeated, motioning for her to turn and pass through an open threshold on the right. “I don’t really have one. Right now, it’d be doing everything I can to learn more about you…”

“Well, to start, I’d much prefer real cheese,” she told him, rounding yet another corner. “Nothing woo’s me quite like a snack and a hot caf.”

“Caf and a snack,” he repeated, seemingly committing that notion to memory. “I’ll remember that.”

A welcome sense of familiarity ensued as they veered slightly left and came upon that heavy sliding durasteel barrier that June knew to lead outside.

Howzer stepped half a stride in front of her and opened it as they approached, before gesturing for her to pass over the threshold and into the radiant sunlight ahead of him. The pair of security troopers still loitering just beyond that chain gate turned at the unexpected, jovial intrusion before simultaneously releasing the back ends of their rifles from their gloved grips, and snapping into identical salutes.

Howzer repeated the motion somewhat lazily, though it had apparently offered enough of an acknowledgement for that security duo to return to their post.

As she’d opted to leave her bag locked in its concealed compartment before trudging back into the base, June wasted no time swinging her leg over her dust-covered seat and reigniting the engine.

“Maybe—” Howzer started as she picked her feet off the ground and placed them in the stirrups in prep for her departure. “Maybe I’ll get to see you again on Primeday?”

She watched his masseters momentarily expand neath a jaw clenched tightly in trepidation, deep golden eyes now gleaming in that effulgent sun as they danced somewhat nervously across her features while he reached to absently trail a gloved finger to and fro across his lip. That reminiscent motion near-instantly took her back to watching him self soothe atop the hoverbed in 18-S, blood stained finger repeating that useless swing across a parched lip in an effort to rid himself of a portion of the discomfort he’d been sitting with for hours… and she smiled.

“I’ll be here,” she answered with a shrug.

“Okay cool,” he answered amidst a small snicker of relief. “Hopefully I am too, if the war doesn’t have other plans…”

June froze, brow furrowing and eyes widening at the implications of his inappropriately morbid statement, and she turned to face him with nothing short of a horrified look atop her previously smiling features.

“Deployed,” he clarified upon seeing her expression, smile slipping instantly from his lips. “Just shipped off-world. Sorry, I did not phrase that properly. Deployed… not dead.”

“Well… hopefully neither,” she replied with a snort, stooping forward to place her hands on the handle bars.

“Hopefully neither,” he repeated, lips tensing amid an embarrassed smirk, and offering her a respectful nod as she began to glide slowly toward the gate.

“Thanks for the tour,” she called over her shoulder as he stepped back to watch her depart, the glance she risked toward his still chagrined expression lingering only long enough to see those eyes begin to crinkle amid a genuine smile and she offered nothing more than a quick smirk of her own before waving her ID card in front of the control panel and sneaking her bike through that slowly rolling gate.

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | ao3

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[taneysha-pictures]

I adore bards...

Haarlep x named tiefling Tav (Lyra) SFW except for a couple of rude words. A few warnings: English is not my native language so be prepared. Haarlep is he/him here. (If you can accept that for a short time, then enjoy reading)

Here it is – another deal with Raphael. It's hard to call Lyra satisfied, but Zariel was a common enemy they would have to fight in the future. It was surprising Raphael wanted to deal with the young tiefling again. She was absolutely sure that during their joint adventure he had a few gray hairs on his head. Apparently his mood was greatly lifted from the moment he received the crown of Karsus. Long conversations with Raphael in his House of Hope didn't lead to anything, but only caused a headache. She hoped the discomfort would go away on its own. But now for the second hour the pain does not subside. The heat of Avernus takes her breath away, which doesn't help at all. Leaving Raphael, she went to the healing spring.

After washing her face, she felt pleasant relief. It would be great to always have access to this fountain.

A quiet giggle was heard from the direction of the bed.

“Here she is. A little nimble mouse who escaped the tenacious claws.” Lying on the silk sheets of the elaborate bed was a devil that looked incredibly similar to the one she had just left in the main hall. “I was so hoping to meet you in person.” The devil lay in an imposing pose, which with all his appearance showed who was in control of the situation here. The smile did not leave his lips, and his tail slowly waved in an inviting gesture. It took her a few seconds to organize her thoughts. “Oh yeah, you're that devil who can't keep track of his things.” The tiefling's emotions were as feigned as possible.

“The little thing robbed me.” Raphael's copy was no less pretentious. “How did this happen?”

"Potion of Invisibility." She concluded calmly. “Cheater.” The creature literally spat out these words. The tiefling had already turned to leave when the feignedly seductive voice was heard again. “The more contracts you sign, the more impossible to stop, right, little mouse?” "Wrong!" "Is this so? Remind me what are you doing right now?” He changed his position to a more comfortable one, leaning back on the pillow.

“This is a different case.” The young woman answered too quickly, which showed her anxiety. “Sure...” He drawled the sounds so that the word began to resemble the hiss of a snake that was about to bite. “Let me introduce myself: I am Haarlep, Raphael's personal incubus, glamoured and transfigured to look like him.” His speech became more animated. His monologue made no impression. However, many things have become clearer than before. Lyra didn't understand what this whole performance was for, and only raised one eyebrow. “So, all standards of decency have been met. Since you’re here, does that mean there’s a new doll for us to play with?” It was difficult to define from the incubus what he was thinking about now, but the guest themselves hoped that Haarlep was feeling irritated at this moment. “Deliver me from yourself. I'm untouchable" “It’s funny to hear that from a small creature who gives himself up to Raphael’s amusement over and over again.” The incubus smiled, showing off his sharp, snow-white fangs. “You are changing concepts, incubus. Don’t confuse business cooperation with carnal corruption.” To her surprise, she remained very calm, although the situation screamed that she needed to leave as soon as possible. She didn't hear this reasonable voice. Perhaps she liked to admire the picture presented, but didn’t admit it to herself. “Everything starts small, little one. Ultimately, you’ll give all of yourself to the Devil without a trace, it’s a matter of time.The only thing that depends on you is the amount of time. Cheap whore of Baldur’s Gate.”

It all seemed like a challenge that the tiefling couldn't let past her pointy ears. In anticipation of battle, she took out her lyre. The incubus looked surprised, but only for a second. Immediately after, he let out a booming laugh, which, it was assumed, was heard outside the boudoir. It seems he even cried. "Oh no! What are you going to do? Will you strum me to death?” He continues to chuckle. “Do not underestimate bards and the power of their musical instrument.” Her face remained serious despite the fact that she was openly mocked. “Mmm…” The incubus’s expression became even more pleased. “Bards are my favorite. They are so unconventional. Such inventors. So delicious.” Haarlep moved his groin just a little, which already seemed to Lyra to be an action that went beyond all boundaries of decency. She looked away, hoping the incubus wouldn't notice. But he did. “Let me see.” Haarlep took a deep breath, as if tasting the air, savoring every note of the smell. “Enchantment spells? Oh my dear little mouse, I am already enchanted.” With every word the incubus seemed to become even more seductive. How is this possible? The young woman gathered all her will into a fist. “I'm not interested in incubi. So you can stop trying.” It's time to leave before it's too late. “Hmmm...Then maybe a cambion would be more to your liking?” Too many emotions washed over the tiefling at once. Outrage, shame, anger, denial. She took a deep breath, keeping her emotions under control. It was clear the incubus was just having fun. So let's have fun together. She giggled quietly. “To my regret, the cambion’s slut position has already been taken, Haarlep.” Lyra deliberately emphasized his name. They looked into each other's eyes, giving the opponent killer smiles. The tiefling walked away under the gaze of a pair of eyes filled with hellfire. “I adore bards...”