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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him

every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”

roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”

tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”

donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.

cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”

bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view.

steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!

damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.

babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.

wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.

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pappydaddy · 3 years

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Oblivious (r.b.)

A/N: Another request down! This one is another Robin request. It's a bit longer than the last one I posted, but it's a bit dry unfortunately. I tried to make it like my other longer fics, but I just felt like this is was meant to be this length. I threw in a funny scene in the end. Anywho, I hope you like it lovely anon💛, I really tried to do your request justice (I loved it btw).

P.S: Not proofread yet. I'm gonna go over all my fics in these upcoming fics to proofread and I will do this fic then

TV Show/Movie: Stranger Things

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Fem!Byers!Reader

Stranger Things/Robin Taglist: N/A

Requested

Warnings: Fluff, a parent being obvious, getting caught getting hot and heavy the backseat. Pretty short in length.

Note: Not proofread yet. I'm gonna go over all my fics in these upcoming fics to proofread and I will do this fic then

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation - my gif -

The cool night breeze rolled in through Y/N Byers’ open window as she and Robin laid in her bed. Late Summer nights spent in bed with her girlfriend were Y/N’s favourite. Having their legs tangled together, their arms holding each other close as they lightly traced random shapes on each other. It was true bliss in her eyes. “You think your mom is back with the movie yet?” Robin broke the comfortable silence with a whisper. Y/N shrugged, pulling her hand away from where it was playing with Robin’s short hair.

“We would have heard her car so probably not,” She answered, shifting as she propped her elbow up. Robin automatically rolled onto her back, gazing up at Y/N with big blue eyes that sparkled in the silver moonlight, the sounds of frogs and crickets filling the silent room again as they enjoyed the company of each other. “Steve is probably taking forever to lock up the store and she’s probably waiting for him to leave so we don’t start without him.” She hypothesized, looking down at Robin again.

Robin hummed, nodding as she pictured Steve fumbling around with his keys, trying each one to figure out which one locked the store door. “He can never remember which key goes to what. We should get him a label maker so he can label them.” She suggested making Y/N snort out a laugh, flopping on her back, untangling themselves from each other completely.

“Are we really going to be that couple that gives friends stationary for presents,” She asked, lulled her head to the side to gaze at Robin who shrugged, pulling a face that asked her why they couldn’t be. “Because those couples are the boring couple that never get invited to any parties people actually want to have fun at.” She answered Robin’s silent question.”

“Fair point.” Robin agreed just as Y/N’s bedroom door opened. The two girls pulled themselves up, looking at the door as Joyce popped her head in.

“Sorry to interrupt girls night, but Steve is here with the movies and I got the snacks, come on out to the living room.” She told them, leaving the door open as she disappeared down the hall, getting Jonathan from his room. Silently, the girls rolled off Y/N’s bed and shuffled out into the living room, being greeted by Steve and Will placing bowls of chips and popcorn on the coffee table that already had a display of soda and water sitting on it.

“Hey, Dingus,” Robin greets Steve as she brushed past him to sit on the couch. “Will.” She nodded at the younger boy, slapping hands with him in a greeting as he sat beside her.

“Hi, Robin.” Steve breathed out, taking a seat in the armchair, cracking open a can of soda, taking a drink. Y/N stepped over his sprawled-out legs, plunking herself down on the other side of Robin, her feet kicking up to rest on her lap comfortably.

“Where are the other kids?” Y/N wondered, looking over her shoulder at Steve as he sat his open soda down, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

“Dustin is sick, Max is busy being grounded, Lucas is sulking being Max is grounded, and Mike is at a family dinner with his grandparents,” Steve listed off the location of each kid easily. Making Robin laugh. “What?” Steve asked with furrowed brows as he grabbed a chip, crunching on it instantly before wiping his hands on his jeans, bouncing his knee.

“Oh nothing, it’s just that you’re such a mom.” Robin made fun of him, her hands resting on Y/N’s ankles as Joyce walked back in with Jonathan in tow looking like he just woke up from a nap, the pair sitting on the other couch.

“So, Steve,” Joyce started, reaching for two sodas, handing one to Jonathan. Robin reached over, collecting three and placed them in her lap. “What movie is first?” She asked as Y/N and Will each plucked a can from Robin’s lap, opening them at the same time, both cans hissing loudly.

“Have no idea, let Will pick-”

“Rawhead Rex!” Will interrupted excitedly, shocking Joyce since she obviously hadn’t picked that one up.

“Wiliam Byers, did you pick that up without me knowing?”

“No, please, I don’t like scary movies!” Joyce and Y/N said at the same time.

“Which is exactly why I didn’t pick any scary movies, mister.” Joyce told Will in a semi-scolding manner.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll protect you from the scary movie.” Robin looked over at her, her tone somewhat teasingly. Joyce cooed at this, tilting her head slightly.

“Aw, you two are so cute together,” She sighed longingly. “Wish I had had someone like that in high school.”

____

“I’m heading out for a date mom,” Y/N announced as she walked down the hall from her room, slinging her purse over her shoulder. Joyce opened her bedroom door, popping her head out just as Y/N was about to walk past, scarring her daughter. “Jesus mom,” She exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest as her heart tried to calm down. “You scared me! I thought you were in the kitchen!”

“Sorry dear,” She apologized, opening her door all the way and stepping out of her room all dressed up. Y/N furrowed her brows at her mom’s appearance. She was awfully dressy for a night home alone. Parting her lips as she followed her mother into the living room, she went to say something but Joyce interrupted. “You said you were going on a date, but I don’t see a car.” She pointed out as she looked out the window.

“I’m actually driving tonight.” Y/N explained before opening her mouth the ask her mother about her plans for the night.

“How progressive,” Joyce smiled, turning to face her daughter again, clasping her hands together. “I love a good feminist moment, you have fun on your date and tell me all about it when you get home.”

“So I can have the car,” Y/N asked tentatively. She had assumed that her mother would take the night to relax as this would be the first night in years she has to be home alone. Joyce nodded, looking at her daughter oddly as she tossed the car keys towards her from the bowl by the door. “You don’t have plans? You seem like you do.” Y/N pressed, not wanting to ruin her mother’s plans.

“Oh, I do have plans, I have a date.” Joyce confirmed as if it was nothing. Y/N sputtered, taken aback by this information and how nonchalantly her mother just disclosed it. She watched her mother walk into the kitchen as if it was any other day.

“If you have a date then you need the car, I’ll figure out how to work around not having a car right now-” Y/N rushed into the kitchen behind her, holding the keys out to Joyce who shook her head, pushing her hand away and cutting her off.

“No, I don’t need the car, he’s picking me up here, you go on your date with the car and have fun!” Joyce told her, grabbing Y/N’s shoulders and forcing her to turn around.

“But, this is your first date since Bob died. Do you want me to stay home in case you need to bail? What if something goes wrong and you can’t reach me or Hopper? What if this guy is secretly a mad scientist connected to the Upside Down? What if he’s just a horrible person-” Y/N rambled, fighting against her mother’s hold as she pushed her towards the door.

“Trust me, Y/N,” Joyce started, opening the front door as Y/N continued to ramble off scenarios that could possibly go wrong. “None of that is going to be an issue. I know this guy, you know this guy. He is perfectly safe and I will be fine. Besides, this isn’t even our first date.”

“Mom-” She tried to say something but was cut off by her own mother all but pushing her out of the house. She let out a shriek, stumbling along the porch.

“Go on your date, Y/N and don’t come back until your date is finished.” Joyce warned, closing and locking the front door. Her face was glaring at Y/N through one of the small windows at the top of their door, almost daring her not to go on the date. Huffing, Y/N turned on her heel and headed off to the car.

____

Joyce’s mysterious date had been pushed into the back of Y/N’s mind the second she saw Robin open her front door. Now, it wasn’t even a thought in her head, all her mind could focus on was the way she felt as Robin’s lips traced down her neck, pecking and sucking as they went. Airy moans left her mouth as she squirmed under her girlfriend, her nearly bare back rubbing against the cold backseat of the car. “Oh god-” She whimpered as Robin’s lips travelled lower, dancing dangerously along the cup of her bra, her fingertips just barely slipping under the underwire. “Oh god!” She gasped when her eyes fluttered open after seeing the flash of red and blue hues on her eyelids.

“Am I making you feel good, baby?” Robin pulled her lips from Y/N breast, looking up at her flirtatiously thinking her exclamation was from pleasure, not fear. Her face fell when she noted the wideness of Y/N’s eyes and flashing lights reflecting off her glistening face.

“That’s fucking Hopper,” Y/N hissed as they both scrambled to sit up, Y/N’s arms crossed over her bra-clad chest. They both tried to squint through the fogged-up back windshield, seeing two figures getting out of the car, the beam of a flashlight clicking on. “Shit, where is my shirt?” She panicked, looking around until Robin threw it at her.

“Duck,” Robin pushed Y/N and herself down as the beam of the flashlight swept over the back window. Grunting, Y/N tried to wiggle around and pull the shirt over her head as Robin watched the beam of light. “He’s looking in the woods, let’s crawl out the front seats!” Robin ushered her, letting her crawl over the console first.

“Something tells me we’re not gonna make it to the front seat,” Y/N trailed off as her eyes squinted at the brightness of the flashlight pointed right at her through the driver’s side window. “Hi, Hop,” She smiled, waving awkwardly. In response, Hopper simply pulled the backseat door open, revealing Joyce standing there, looking confused. “Mom, what are you doing here? I thought you were out on a date?” Y/N froze, her knee digging uncomfortably into the middle console.

“I am on my date, we were heading to the restaurant after the movie when we saw the car looking abandoned.” Joyce explained.

“Your date was with Hopper? You’re dating Hopper?” Y/N asked, shocked as she crawled out of the backseat, Robin following closely.

“You didn’t know that?” Robin asked her as if it was obvious.

“No!”

“Your date was with Robin?” Joyce ignored the two girls, her brows furrowed.

“You didn’t know they were dating?” Hopper looked at Joyce as he pointed his finger at the pair.

“No idea.” Joyce shook her head.

“You two are really oblivious. Everyone knew both of these things,” Hopper informed them with a laugh, earning two glares from Y/N and Joyce. “Well, anyway, we’ve got a reservation-”

“Wait,” Joyce interrupted him. “I thought you guys were just friends-” Joyce pointed to Y/N and Robin who both shrugged sheepishly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked her daughter, slightly embarrassed for not realizing and a bit let down that she didn’t tell her.

“I thought you knew.”

“Well, now that I do know, I want to get to know Robin as your girlfriend so would you guys like to accompany us to our dinner reservations?” Joyce asked, her eyes wide as she hoped her daughter would say yes. She always knew that she liked girls, but she had no idea they were dating.

“Only if I get to drill Hopper with questions to make sure he’s good enough for you.” Y/N playfully glared at Hopper, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Deal.” Joyce nodded firmly.

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thetravelerwrites · 3 years

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Bashir (Troll) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Female Human/Male Troll (World of Warcraft Design) Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Troll, Fake Dating, Hired Boyfriend, Fake Boyfriend Content Warnings: Stalker Ex-Boyfriend, Stalking, Mention of Guns, Brief Violence Series: OkCryptid Words: 6365

A commission for @floral-and-fine! A woman getting out of a bad relationship has moved across her home state to get away from her controlling ex-boyfriend, only for him to show up at her job. Scared, she goes on OkCryptid to recruit a "boyfriend" in hopes of frightening him off. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

>Hi. I know we don’t know each other and this is pretty sudden, but I have a proposition for you, and it isn’t what you think.

Vague, yes, but it would catch his attention quickly enough, you thought. You were desperate and didn’t know what else to do.

>Oh, He messaged not long after. >What would that be?

>I want to pay you to go out with me for a while.

>I’m not a prostitute. Lol

>That’s not what I mean, You replied, rolling your eyes. >I know this sounds weird, and if I had more money I’d probably just hire a bodyguard, but I don’t.

>Why would you need a bodyguard?

You sighed. >I have a stalker ex-boyfriend. I dated him for about five months, but he was really possessive and crazy so I broke it off, and now he won’t leave me alone. I moved here last month from across the state and he followed me. He showed up at my work today.

>Ah, I see. So you want me to rip his arms off?

>No, I just want him to see me with someone who is big enough to rip his arms off. Maybe it’ll scare him away. You’re the biggest guy I could find on here. Well, I did find a cyclops that was pretty big, but she wasn’t interested.

>Have you gone to the police about this?

>Yeah, but they said unless I get proof he has intent to do harm, there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even get a restraining order unless he hurts me or causes property damage. It’s like he has to beat me up before they’ll do anything, and I’d rather not let it get that far.

>Gotcha. Why don’t we don’t meet for coffee tomorrow and talk it over?

>That sounds great. I’m free at lunch.

>Me too. I’ll meet you at Leo’s Diner, you know that one?

>No, but I can Google it. See you tomorrow at 11.

Bashir arrived right on time at eleven the next morning. He was a large troll, dark blue in color, with large, off-white tusks jutting out from the sides of his mouth and his long red hair braided in several placed and pulled back at the nape of his neck. He was muscular, thick in the waist, and around nine feet tall. He wore a suit, which was finely tailored to his body. You raised your eyebrows: his profile was sparse, so you didn’t know what kind of job he did; you’d only chosen him because of his picture. But dressed like that, you were surprised he even agreed to take this “job.”

“Hi, you’re the one I’m supposed to meet today, right?” He said, extending his hand.

“Yes,” You replied, standing and shaking his hand. Your hand was dwarfed in his. “Thanks for agreeing.”

“It’s no trouble,” He said, gesturing for you to sit back down as he took a seat opposite you. “So tell me about this boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” You said. “His name is Jake. I met him at work; we worked in the same department. He seemed nice, so when he asked me out, I didn’t think anything of saying yes. The first two months was fine, and were got along really well. As soon as we decided to be exclusive, he got really clingy really quickly. Every time I’d try to pull away, he’d clutch at me tighter. He started pressuring me to put distance between me and my friends, he wanted to know where I was all the time, he was constantly texting and calling and got mad when I didn’t respond right away. I got sick of it and broke up with him.”

“When did the stalking start?”

“Almost immediately. It didn’t help that we still worked in the same department, so I had to see him every day. He’d show up at my house after work and on the weekend. He’d either be super angry and demand that I let him in, or he’d be there with flowers and candy and cry and tell me that I was the best thing that ever happened to him, that he was sorry and he’d do better. He kicked my door in a couple of times and I had to call the police. I finally managed to get a restraining order against him, but it didn’t really help. He couldn’t come within five hundred feet, so he would stand on the curb exactly five hundred feet from my house and just watch the house. I was scared for my life. So I quit my job and moved across the state with just my savings. I found a job and I started last week. And yesterday, they said I had a new client, and it was him.”

“What did you do?”

“I freaked out and called security, telling them I had a restraining order against him. He mistakenly thinks the restraining order is void because I moved, but I called and that’s not the case at all.” You sighed in aggravation. “I really hope this asshole doesn’t get me fired.”

“Hmm,” He said. “So what’s your offer?”

“Hmm?” You asked.

“You said you’d pay. What’s your offer?”

“Oh,” You said, surprised. “Uh, fifty bucks per date, plus the date expenses. I can’t really afford more than that.”

“That sounds fair. Okay,” He said. “I’ll do it. You just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Really?” You replied. “You’ll take the job?”

“Sure,” He said. “I’ve got some free time, and the extra money will be nice. I could buy a new suit in a month.” He grinned and plucked at his own, no doubt worth several months of dates.

“That’s great, thank you,” You said, sighing in relief. “So, Friday night? Around six o’clock? Would that work?”

“Absolutely,” He said, pulling out his phone. “Give me your phone number. I’ll add it to my contacts. That way, if you see him, you can call or text and I can head over and do the arm ripping thing.”

You laughed and took out your phone.

After exchanging information, the two of you had lunch and discussed the finer points of the job. PDAs were acceptable, but you’d prefer if he didn’t kiss you. He had a nine-to-five job, just like you, but his position was flexible and let him leave the office for errands, as long as he didn’t abuse the privilege. You left the lunch feeling a little safer.

Friday night, you met him at a nice Greek restaurant, and he wore another nice bespoke suit. He offered to pick you up at your home, but you didn’t really want him to know where you lived. You were still pretty paranoid about Jake finding out.

“I’m surprised you chose this place, considering you’re footing the bill and everything,” Bashir said, looking around. “It’s pretty fancy.”

“It has to look believable,” You reasoned. “And I do like Greek food. If you like, you can pick the place next time.”

He chuckled. “Have you ever had Mediterranean troll food?”

“No, I haven’t,” You said, interested. “What’s it like?”

“It’s very similar, except there’s no bread of any kind.”

“So what do you eat the hummus on?”

“You drink it like sauce.”

“You’re not supposed to drink sauce!” You protested.

He snickered.

“I feel like you’re making this up.”

“Maybe, but you’ve never met any Mediterranean trolls, so you don’t know.”

“Are you a Mediterranean troll?”

“I am, actually,” He said. “My parents came over from Morocco when I was a tot. I don’t remember much about Morocco, but I’ve always dreamed of going on a trip there, I’ve just never had the chance.” He gave a cursory look over the menu. “Maybe that’s what I’ll use this money for.”

“Sounds nice to me,” You said. “If we both get something good out of this, then that’s a plus.”

“What do you get out of this, other than getting rid of a bothersome ex?”

“Security and peace of mind,” You said, picking up your own menu. “That’s worth the price.”

He looked at you seriously. “This guy really shook you up, didn’t he?”

You set the menu back down and sighed. “He’s never hit me or threatened me verbally. The most he’s ever done is break my door, but…” You looked out of the window. “I feel like… it wouldn’t be hard, you know? It wouldn’t be that much of a leap from breaking my door in to doing something worse. If he gets mad enough, if he gets obsessed enough, who knows what he could do. All I know is that I don’t want to find out.”

“I understand,” He said. “I’ve never had to deal with something like that, because… well, look at me…” He gestured at his massive body. “But I do know people who have, and it sounds terrifying. I’m glad I can help, even if I am getting paid to do it.”

You smiled. “Well, it helps that you’re good company.”

“You don’t have to flirt with me, you know,” He teased. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“I will throat-punch you,” You said with a grin, and he laughed.

The next date was the following Saturday, and he chose to go to a concert. He wore a black v-neck shirt and a pair of black slacks, which was as dressed down as you’d seen him, but still very business-casual. It was a showcase of up-and-coming local bands, and they were all pretty good. You didn’t know that he liked Djent and progressive metal, too, but you were happy to have a common interest.

In truth, Bashir was pleasant to be around, and you were relieved that this entire thing wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. It definitely helped make this “dating” business look real from an outsider perspective. He held up his end of the bargain really well over the next dozen dates, holding your hand and putting an arm around you as if it was perfectly normal to do so. Thankfully, it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable when he did it, as he was very warm and the height difference meant he couldn’t be too cuddly naturally. You hoped that if Jake was watching, he believed you’d moved on and had no thoughts for him.

Unfortunately, if he was watching, he didn’t take the hint.

One night, as you were turning off lights and getting ready for bed, you looked out of your bedroom window and there he was, standing on the curb across the street, Jake stood in the shadow of a tree, vaping, and looking toward your house.

Panicked, you didn’t your best to stay calm while you were at the window, not wanting him to know you had seen him, but as soon as you walked away, you turned off the bedroom lights, snatched up your phone, dashed downstairs, and frantically checked the windows and doors, making sure they were all locked.

You meant to call the police, but instead, you dialed Bashir’s number. He answered immediately.

“What’s up?” He asked, sounding caught off guard. You weren’t surprised, you never called or texted him unless it was about the next “date.”

“Jake’s outside,” You whispered. “He’s across the street, I’m looking at him right now from my living room window.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’d recognize that stupid snakeskin vape box anywhere,” You said.

“Okay,” He said. “I’m heading over. Stay on the phone with me until I get there. Do you have a landline?”

“Yeah,” You replied.

“Get it and call the police. Don’t tell them he’s stalking you because, well frankly, they won’t care. Say you’re a concerned member of the neighborhood and there’s a suspicious man hanging around outside and you’re worried about a break in.”

It wouldn’t have been a lie. “Okay,” You said, picking up your cordless phone.

After calling the police, you waited with your heart in your throat, listening to Bashir get into his car and drive. He’d heard you tell the operator your address. He arrived before the police did, his vehicle a nondescript SUV, and he got out wearing sweat pants and a tank top and pulled a duffel bag from his passenger seat. He didn’t acknowledge Jake at all, simply walked up to your door and knocked. You went to open the door for him.

“Hug me and kiss my cheek,” He said in a low undertone. Gulping, you did as he said with him turning so that your display of affection was clearly visible to anyone watching from the street. You let him in and closed the door behind him, locking it.

“What now?”

“Let’s turn on the lights and make some coffee while we wait for the police,” He said.

“Okay,” You said, your voice shaking. You went to go into the kitchen but he stopped you by taking your hand.

“Hey,” He said gently. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here, and the police are coming. You’re safe.”

Tears came to your eyes and you nodded, wiping them. He released you and you went to the kitchen, putting a pot of coffee on.

The police arrived. You and Bashir watched covertly from the breakfast nook. Eventually, Jake walked to a car and got in it, driving away. The police followed him.

“They let him go?” You asked, worried.

“Well, they may not have know he has a restraining order, and even if they did, he looked plenty far away enough to not have violated it. He wasn’t breaking any laws other than loitering, so they couldn’t arrest him. At least they made sure he left.”

You held your head in your hands. “God, I don’t want to have to do all this over again.”

“It’s okay,” He said. “I’ll stay the night to make sure he doesn’t come back tonight.”

“What about tomorrow? Or the next day? You can’t be here all the time,” You said, your voice shaking.

He sighed heavily. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

You scoffed in disgust. “I don’t want a fucking gun.”

“Okay,” He said. “Then, I’ll put up a security system. I brought one with me; it’s in my bag. I’ll set it up tonight while he’s not here.”

“It’s late,” You said weakly.

“Do you want to sleep or do you want peace of mind?” He asked you levelly.

You scrubbed your face, took a deep breath, drained your coffee cup, and stood up. “Okay. Let’s do it, then.”

It took a few hours, but he managed to get several security cameras fixed to the building, focused on entryways and the front and back yards. You helped him by holding the equipment and tools for him as he worked, handing up what he needed as he needed it. By the time the two of you were done, it was three a.m. and you both had to be at work in mere hours.

The two of you fell into an exhausted sleep on your bed. You didn’t even have the energy to be affronted by the fact that you were sharing a bed with him. The next morning, before he left to go home and get ready for work, he downloaded the security camera app onto your phone and showed you how to use it.

You went to work, checking your phone surreptitiously to see if Jake was outside of your house. So far, he hadn’t reappeared.

>Today’s Friday, You texted him. >I know you’re probably tired after last night, but do you want to have a date today?

>What about a home date at my house? He replied. >I’ll cook dinner and everything. I don’t want you to be at your house at the moment.

>I can’t argue with that, You said in return. >Sounds good to me. What are you cooking?

>I was thinking a kefta meatball tagine with couscous on the side, and a snake pastry for dessert.

>That sounds amazing. Thanks for putting me up. I know this all is a huge inconvenience, and I really appreciate it.

>It’s no problem,” He said. >It’s what I’m getting paid for, right?

You sighed. Well, this wasn’t exactly what he was getting paid for. How much would an overnight stay cost you?

He sent you a message with his address and you went home after work to shower and pack a small overnight bag. You snickered, pulling out your pretty underwear and a sexy negligee, wondering if you should pack this, too, before putting it away and just throwing some pajamas in your bag.

Checking the cameras before stepping outside, you left the house and hurried to your car, heading to Bashir’s house. His place was a two-story, bungalow style house with a dark brown cliffstone brick pattern and a detached garage. It was charming, and a lot cuter than your tiny yellow ranch-style house. The yard was well kept and three were full flowerbeds next to the wide porch. You wouldn’t have imagined he lived in a place like this.

You knocked on the door and he answered it quickly, wearing a comfortable t-shirt and pair of tight jeans. You tried not to stare, but it was difficult. His clothes left very little to the imagination. His hair was also down and cascaded down his back and shoulders.

“Come in, come in,” He said, taking your bag for you.

“Thanks,” You said. “Your house is really pretty.”

“Oh, thanks!” He said. “It was actually condemned when I bought it. I basically had to rebuild it from the ground up. I’m not quite finished with it yet, but I’m happy with the progress.”

“You should be, it’s amazing,” You said. “I’d never have guessed it was a fixer-upper.”

He grinned at you, showing off his sharp teeth. “Come on, dinner will be ready soon.”

“It smells great,” You said, inhaling the savory smell of lamb and vegetables.

“All my mom’s recipes,” He replied, heading into the kitchen. “She owns a restaurant three towns over.”

“I’ll have to go and visit it sometime,” You said.

“Maybe I’ll take you myself one day,” He said, smiling as he stirred the couscous. Your heart fluttered a little.

How long were you going to have to keep this up? “Dating” Bashir was fun, but it wasn’t going to last forever. Either Jake would give up or get arrested, so either way, it would be over. Maybe you could stay friends. He was nice enough, and you enjoyed hanging out with him. But still… why was he talking about things that might happen in the future if there was no future for the two of you?

Dinner was delicious, and so was dessert, and afterward the two of you went to the living room to watch a movie. He even put his arm around you, since the window was uncovered and anyone could look in, he said, and you felt comfortable enough to relax into his side. It almost did feel like a real home date.

After the movie, though, you both decided to sleep, since you were still tired from the night before. You decided that you were both adults and could share a bed without it being awkward, and besides, his bed was huge and could fit five of you easily. You both fell asleep almost immediately.

Sometime during the night, you got a ping from the motion detector on your phone, but when you checked the security system, it was just a raccoon in your trashcan. You sighed and put your phone down, rolling over.

Bashir was on his back, asleep, with his face turned toward you. He was breathing deeply and relaxed with one hand on his chest and the other on his stomach.

You couldn’t help but stare. He really was an attractive guy, and if circumstances had been different, you might have dated him for real. But… until Jake left you alone, you didn’t want to drag anyone else into it. Bashir didn’t have any emotional connection to you, so Jake couldn’t affect whatever “relationship” you had.

But maybe things could be different after? You weren’t sure. He hadn’t expressed any interest in you other than what he had to to make the job believable. He hadn’t been flirty or more affectionate than he needed to be. You couldn’t afford to develop feelings for Bashir, not right now.

Even still, you brushed your fingers gently against the skin of his arm, feeling the hairs that covered it, and followed the curve up to his hand, allowing yours to rest on top of his for a moment or two before retracting it and trying to fall asleep again, sighing heavily.

The next morning, Bashir recommended that the two of you spend the day together, to keep up the weekend stay appearance.

“How much is this ‘weekend getaway’ going to cost me?” You asked dubiously.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, today’s a freebie, since I suggested it. You still have to pay for last night, though. The normal fifty bucks is fine.”

“Mm-hmm,” You hummed flatly, fishing the money out of your wallet and handing it to him. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“Ah, it’s a freebie day, right? You get to choose this time.”

You smiled. “Well, let’s start with breakfast. I’ll cook it. I can cook breakfast blindfolded.”

“If you like,” He said, sitting at the bar in the kitchen and watching you putter around, looking for cooking tools.

After breakfast, you decided you wanted to go to the local botanical garden, which you hadn’t been to in some time.

“Your flowerbeds outside reminded me of this place,” You told him, walking slowly through the rows of Japanese maples. There was a beautiful and an extremely rare Chinese Red Maple behind a gate at the end of the row, the centerpiece of the garden. “Did you plant them yourself?”

“Yep,” He said with a smile. “I helped my dad do a lot of gardening when he was still alive. He had a landscaping business, but he was really passionate about it. I actually inherited the business. Gardening helps me keep his memory alive.”

“That’s really sweet,” You said, smiling softly. “Is that what you do for a living, the landscaping job? I’ve never actually asked what you do for work.”

“No, actually. I mean, I own the company, but I don’t work for it. My actual job is something else entirely.”

“What is it?”

He laughed. “Honestly, I don’t think you’d believe me.” Before you could ask, he took you by the hand and said, “Let’s take a break and get a coffee. I have to use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” You said, letting the subject drop. For now.

You got to the food court outside of the botanical gardens and sat down at the outdoor cafe.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” He said, putting some money down on the table. “Can you order me a large black coffee?”

“Yeah, sure,” You said. He smiled and headed off. You got up and put in your order, then sat back down at the table and opened the security app, looking through the cameras and checked to see if anything was out of place.

The chair opposite to you was pulled out and he sat back down while you were still looking at your phone.

“The coffee should be out soon,” You said.

“I didn’t order coffee,” A voice said. It wasn’t Bashir.

You jerked your head up and saw Jake sitting across from you. You stood up so fast that you knocked the chair over.

“Get away from me, Jake,” You said.

“Look, just talk to me,” He said, standing up and advancing on you. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“Get away from me!” You shouted. “Bashir!”

“Are you calling for that monster?” He sneered. “You could do so much better than him. Besides, you’re not even really dating him, you’re just paying him to keep you company, you slut. You think I wouldn’t figure that out?”

“Fuck you!” You back up. “Bashir!”

Jake was snatched back and slammed down onto the cafe table. Bashir had him pinned down with a single hand. It wasn’t hard to do: Bashir was almost twice the size of Jake in height and weight.

“Let me go!” Jake said, struggling against Bashir’s iron grip. “I’ll have you arrested! My brother’s a cop!”

“Ah, that explains how you got her address so quick,” Bashir said. “I don’t really care if your brother’s a cop. Actually, I think I do, I think an internal affairs investigation is warranted. Regardless, you’ve just violated a restraining order.”

“What does it matter to you?”

Bashir snorted. “I’m FBI, dickless.”

You gaped at him.

“Bullshit!” Jake said. “I’ll fucking sue you! I’ll ruin your fucking life!”

“Whatever you want, you’re still under arrest,” Bashir said, pulling out a set of handcuffs from an inside pocket of his jacket.

“You’re kidding,” You said slowly, staring at Bashir.

“I told you you probably wouldn’t believe me,” He said, grinning at you sheepishly. He jerked his head at his jacket. “My ID is in my pocket.”

You reached in and fished it out, opening the leather fold to reveal a… rather official looking ID and badge.

You laughed in disbelief. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”

The police arrived to detain Jake and took him to the station. Bashir drove you to the station, as well, so that you could make a statement.

Later, Bashir drove you back to your house.

“I’ll bring your bag over later,” He said. “He’ll probably get ninety days in jail for violating the restraining order, and hopefully you won’t have to deal with him anymore. Although, if you hear from him again once he gets out, let me know, and I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” You said. “Really, thank you for everything.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Here,” He said, handing it to you. Inside was all the money you had given him for the dates, plus some. There had to have been almost two thousand dollars in there.

“But this is…”

He laughed. “I’m a federal official, you know. I can’t take bribes. I’d get fired.”

“This wasn’t…” You started, but stopped yourself. This could absolutely be seen as a bribe. “What do I do with all this?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you like. Go on a trip. Buy something nice. It’s your money, after all.”

You sighed a little sadly. “I guess this is it, then.”

He sighed, too. “Yeah, I guess so.” He leaned forward, bent down, and kissed you on the cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

Jake did end up getting three months in jail, which made you feel a lot better. You were worried that he would come after you, but the three months passed and when he was released, he moved clear across the country and you never heard from him again.

Finally free of him, you thought you might try actually dating again, but you could only think of Bashir. You and he had only spoken a few times, mostly him checking on you, but you hadn’t seen each other since Jake’s arrest. You missed him, but you couldn’t tell him that. He didn’t have any feelings for you, anyway. If he did, wouldn’t he have asked you out after Jake was out of the picture?

Even still, you wanted to see him again. So once Jake was gone, you texted Bashir.

>I have something for you, You told him.

>Oh? What’s that?

>I want to give it to you in person. Would it be okay to come over this weekend?

>I’m free now. Why don’t you stop by?

>Okay. I’ll be there soon.

Before leaving, you hesitated and decided to throw on your best, sexiest underwear. Just in case.

You arrived at his house to find him out in the front yard. He was digging a hole in the yard with a sapling sitting in a bucket, ready for planting. There were also stones and gravel he was going to use for a decorative barrier. He stood up and waved as you drove up into the driveway.

“Hey!” He said, pulling you into a hug. Well, as well as he could, being so tall. “It’s good to see you!”

“You too!” You said. “What kind of tree is that?”

“A Chinese Maple,” He said. “I got inspired when we went to the botanical gardens that time. It cost a pretty penny and I had to wait for the cutting to grow, but it’s finally ready to plant.”

“That’s so cool,” You said. “Can I help?”

“Really?” He said, grinning. “Yeah, sure! There’s a pair of gloves over there on the porch. They might be a little big, but it’s better than blisters.”

You ran to retrieve them, and picked up a trowel. “Why did you decide on the maple?”

“Cause it reminds me of you,” He said, digging. “When I look out my window every day and see it, I’ll think of you.”

Your heart beat faster, but you couldn’t look at him.

It only took about an hour to dig out the hole, plant the sapling, fill the hole with soil, lay the stones, and spread the gravel. Thankfully it was a cool day and you didn’t sweat too much. The two of you caught up on what had happened in the three months since you’d seen each other. You wanted to ask if he had started dating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“It looks great,” He said, standing back and grinning. “Thanks for your help! We got it done in record time. Let’s get cleaned up and have a drink.”

“Okay,” You said. “Let me grab my purse from the car.”

“Oh, right, you had something to give me, right?”

“Yep,” You told him, grabbing your bag.

He laughed. “Sorry I side-tracked you.”

“It’s fine, I had a good time,” You said. He opened the door for you and let you go into the house before him.

You went to the bathroom to freshen up and when you looked down, you realized your toothbrush was in the holder, the one you had forgotten when you’d stayed over. You had bought a new one and figured he’d just throw it away when he found it. Why had he kept it? Why was it in the holder with his?

You went back out into the kitchen and found him shirtless, water beading down the muscles of his back, and you stopped in the doorway, staring.

“Oh, sorry,” He said, laughing and throwing on a clean shirt. “Needed a quick wash. I felt a little grimy after the yardwork.”

“It’s okay,” You said, your heart still hammering in your chest.

“Iced tea?”

“Yeah, sure,” You replied, sitting at the bar. He poured you a drink and sat at the bar opposite you.

“So, what was the thing you had for me.”

You swallowed your tea a bit too hard and reached into your purse, handing him an envelope.

“This isn’t the money, is it?” He asked, smiling.

“No, it’s not money,” You said. “Open it.”

He grinned playfully at you, but it slipped from his face when he looked inside the envelope, pulling out two plane tickets.

“Morocco?” He asked, looking up at you in surprise.

You nodded. “Those are good for a year, so make sure you get some vacation time soon,” You said, anxious.

He stared at them. “There are two.”

“Yes,” You replied. “In case you wanted to take your mom. Or maybe a girlfriend or boyfriend or something.”

You kept your face as neutral as possible, but he was staring at you.

“The extra ticket is for you, isn’t it?” He asked softly.

You looked down and away. “If you don’t want me to go, that’s okay. You can take whoever you like. I just wanted you to have the trip you always dreamed of.”

He got up out of his chair, came around, and got down on his knees, so that he was face to face with you. He leaned forward and kissed you. It was firm and testing, and you responded, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around you as well.

“I missed you,” He murmured against your lips.

“Why didn’t you ask me out?” You asked him, pulling back to look at his face.

“I thought you weren’t interested in a real relationship,” He said, pulling you against him. “If I had any inclination you did, I would have asked you out on the spot.”

“I thought the same thing,” You said. “I never expected you’d actually like me.”

“I do,” He said, kissing you again and standing up. “I like you very, very much.”

He walked you into his room and lay you down on his bed, stripping your clothes off your body.

“Pretty,” He said with a grin as he came across your lacy black underwear. “Did you wear this for me?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Well, it would be a shame to take it off so soon, then, wouldn’t it?” He said, palming your breasts over the fabric of your bra. He touched your slit over your underwear, and you gasped. You lifted your leg and rubbed him through his pants, and he grunted. You felt him harden under your touch. He was… uh… large.

You pulled off his shirt and ran your nails down his chest. He moved his hand away and pressed himself against you, still clothed, grinding himself into your clit, and you moaned. You reached for his belt and unbuckled it, unbuttoning it, and pushed his pants down with your toes. Because of his long tusks, he couldn’t bend down to kiss you in this position, so he picked you up as if you were a doll, kissing your body. You were always a little self conscious about your weight, being a big girl, but he seemed not to notice.

He lifted you all the way up to his face, kneeling down so that you weren’t so high up, and licked the cloth covering your slit, putting your legs over his shoulders and his tusks under your body. Using just his tongue, he moved your underwear out of the way and teased your clit. His tongue was long and thick. You whimpered and rocked your hips against his tongue. He pushed it in side of you and thrust it back and forth, and you writhed in his grip.

Carefully, he pulled you down and eased you into his lap, pressing himself against your entrance. You pressed your hands against his stomach and watched him disappear slowly inside you. He couldn’t go all the way in, but once he reached the back and knew where the limit was, he pulled back out slowly and thrust in again slowly, easing you into it. He must have had a similar size problem in the past and had learned how to overcome it in these situations. You were glad for it.

He lay you on the edge of the bed and pressed your knees back, thrusting a little faster, and you reached down and touched yourself, rubbing quickly as he sped up. He pulled the cups of your bra down so that he could grasp your breasts, squeezing gently, and grunted. You held his hand there with your own, pulling up your head and sucking on his pointer finger, looking up at him through your lashes. His breathing was erratic and he watched you hungrily, his sharp teeth biting into his lower lip and pricking the skin.

“I’m so close,” You moaned. “I’m going to cum.”

He nodded as if in agreement, squeezing his eyes shut. He grimaced as if in pain, but then shouted, roaring, and released inside of you. It was a torrent, spraying out of you. Another few hip thrusts and circles around your clit, you came too, your head thrown back against the bed, crying out.

He pulled out and turned his head, resting it against your stomach as his arms gripped your sides, breathing hard. After a moment, you both sat up, and you realized that his legs were covered with his own release.

“Wanna get cleaned up?” You asked him.

“Yeah,” He said dreamily, standing up and leading you into the bathroom. You took a shower together, helping him clean himself. He did the same for you, kneeling down and washing your body. The way he knelt in front of you combine with the way he looked at you, it almost felt like he was worshiping you. Honestly, you didn’t mind that at all.

Your underwear would have to be washed, but he said you could borrow one of his shirts, if you wanted to. Honestly, you were happy to lounge in his bed naked. He seemed happy with that, too.

“When would you like to go?” You asked him, laying on his chest and playing with his chest hair. “To Morocco, I mean?”

“Soon,” He said, entwining his fingers in your hair. “I’ll put in for vacation time as soon as I get back to the office. I don’t really take vacations, so I’m sure my colleagues will be surprised.”

You smiled and kissed his skin. “I’ll have to put in for time off, too,” You said. “Although, I only just started working there six months ago, so they may not approve it.”

“Let me know when they do and I’ll schedule for the same time,” He said.

“Sounds good to me,” He said, sitting up and crossing his legs, looking down at you. You posed a little for him and he grinned, running his hands up and down the soft skin of your torso and belly. “You know what I’d like to do right now, though?”

“What’s that?” You asked.

“I want to take you on a date,” He said, smiling softly. “A real one. I'll pay and everything. And I want to be able to kiss you.”

You smiled back at him. “Deal.”

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billiejeanenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Boobiegate masterpost

We know what they did this summer - and oh boy, was a it a wild summer that - unfortunately for us - stretched into autumn and beyond any reason.

I will first go over everything as it happened and then - because when you look back at everything you realise some timelines overlap - I’ll try to clarify some stuff and put it into perspective.

NOTE: I’m writing the dates from a GMT time zone point of view (aka. UK time)

So let’s start from the beginning.

Briana breaks up with Brody Jenner after dating him for some random attention seeking period. (June-September roughly)

Here’s an article talking about that irrelevant relationship. https://www.yourtango.com/2020334835/who-brody-jenner-girlfriend-briana-jungwirth-louis-tomlinson-baby-mama Now let’s fast forward a bit to September.

September 23rd

So on September 23rd we’re flooded with articles about Brody and Bri breaking up and Bri getting back together with her “on-again off-again (boy)friend Nick” and the biggest surprise “BRI IS ENGAGED”

So the story is:

Bri ended her relationship with Brody because “they were moving too fast” and he had “already met Freddie”

She then gets back together with her on-again, off-again bf Nick Gordon

She, her family, and Nick go on a “whirlwind” trip to Las Vegas (MIND YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A PANDEMIC)

Bri and Nick get engaged during those Covid inviting few days in Vegas (September 21st- September 23rd)

Articles drop about how they’re engaged and she’s broken up with Brody (Sept 23rd)

Bri, family and Nick all share a huge amount of Vegas pictures of them in love, Bri’s ring, Bri and Nick being a couple (pictures obviously taken before Vegas to hopefully make someone believe that this in no way is a whirlwind engagement after just knowing each other a few weeks. Did they convince anyone? Well if you are convinced - I’m worried for you)

Here’s the tmz article:https://www.tmz.com/2020/09/23/brody-jenner-split-briana-jungwirth-engaged/ Here’s some pics of them we were all subjected to while they were in Vegas. And Nick’s new public profile when it just got made. Was he trying to start an influencer career and say goodbye to being a firefighter? Was he trying to get a night job taking off that all firefighter gear for money? Magic mike was a big movie after all….Who knows.

September 28th

At first the engagement pictures on Nick’s IG were just him and Briana and he used the #/shesaidyes. After a few days and probably after they realised it would be a smart move to acknowledge her kid she claims to have too (👀) he deleted those and on September 28th posted new pictures with a new caption and new # of course. This time “theysaidyes”.

The pictures are below.

But, moving on.

As soon as the engagement news drops, we have Nick - our “good-guy firefighter” making a new and public IG account, flooding it with pictures where he professes his love for Bri and soaking up the d-list association fame.

So in the coming weeks we get a lot of Nick, Bri and their families on IG. They post a lot about being constantly together.

What was the most interesting they really pushed the “dad” image on Nick. He was constantly posting about Freddie and even in Bs or Tammi’s stories he was always seen interacting with F the most.

Then after it seemed like the new fiancees had settle into their soon-to-be married life and everything seemed rosy for them - we get hit with the whammy BOOBIEGATE.

Because hell hath no fury like a sugar daddy scorned.

October 15th

On the 15th of October celebtm a gossip site, posts the next picture and caption on IG:

Basically, they’re saying a guy - his name unknown yet - contacted them to tell them how Briana scammed him out of money she borrowed to get a boob job. Specifically 5k USD. He claims he filed the case in court and it’s dated January.

They ask if anyone else has similar receipts or anything about her and that they’re investigating and will be writing a story. And the comments have a lot to say about Bri.

October 19th

4 days later on October 19th celebtm posts another IG update about how they have the court filing and how their article is in progress.

October 21st

2 days after the last IG post celebtm finally posts their article - on the 21st of October

https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-briana-jungwirth-sued-over-boob-job/

(It’s on the web still - if it ever gets deleted let me know I have screen recordings of it)

The article is accompanied by this (below) IG post:

Also on this day we get Briana and Nick deactivating their IG profiles. Nick still kept his personal private IG and the only person who stayed public is Tammi.

October 22nd

A day after the article dropped there’s another IG post with the following picture and caption. Apparently, Sugar Daddy shared his receipts - specifically AmEx - with celebtm.

October 26th

On October 26th celebtm posts the second part of the article. It’s messier, with a more confusing timeline than the first, but tries to “spill” more details on Sugar Daddies relationship with Briana and her life in general.

Also by now we know his name - Michael Strauss. An investor in Warwick club in LA.

https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-baby-mama-briana-jungwirth-double-life/

(Again this is the link - if the article gets taken down and you want to see it - DM me)

October 27th

Then a day later we get another IG post - no new article - just more excerpts from what the Sugar Daddy told celebtm.

Then it’s quiet for a few days and when you think this can’t get even more trashy - low and behold the circus that is called October 29th.

October 29th

So after a few days of silence celebtm strikes again, but this time they bring in TV’s most loved judge - Judge Judy. Apparently the TV show was willing to take this litigation and air it as an episode.

As always, they post an IG post and a caption, and the article mentioned in the IG caption below is basically an article written for clicks about Louis and Harry because they saw the larrie part of the fandom was getting them clicks. I’ll leave the link to the article here for documentation purposes, but honestly there’s nothing in there worth giving them clicks for. Not a thing. The title of the article is “A Complete Guide to 1D Members Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles’ Rumoured Relationship”

Article: https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-harry-styles-relationship/

November 6th

We see the sudden return from social media exile of Bri to IG. She’s back - with a post and the description ironically saying “I’m back”. I refuse to post it because does anyone really want to look at her face-tuned selfies?

November 9th

Then after weeks of radio silence, the return of Bri to IG, we get what is apparently the - very underwhelming - like Bri’s boobs to Sugar Daddy who never got to see them - conclusion to this Sugar Daddy drama. This following article which is basically a letter from Michael to Briana telling her how he’s giving up on the lawsuit, taking this as a life lesson and how he hopes no one else falls for her scams. Article below:

https://celebmagazine.com/michael-straus-briana-jungwirth-open-letter-to-one-direction-louis-tomlinson-alleged-baby-mama/

(Again this is the link - if the article gets taken down and you want to see it - DM me)

And of course - the article is accompanied by an IG post by celebtm.

So, here we currently are. After watching that circus show no one wanted not paid for (well except the Sugar Daddy, and he didn’t even get to see the thing he paid for - so sad.) we’re in November and the Jungwirths and company are back to their carefree posting on IG.

Current status:

The lawsuit seems to have been dropped.

Everything seems to be in process of being swept under the rug.

Nick - the loving fiancee - is back to IG too. All of his happy, loving pictures with Bri still up (some deleted) - so we must assume their love survived Boobiegate.

As for overlapping timelines:

The timelines overlap mostly during the months March-October with it being said Bri dated Brody, but was also taking money from Boobie Daddy who was helping her during the pandemic, and was later also apparently starting a serious relationship with Nick.

What actually went on - I don’t know. And I’m honestly not interested to find out. This is being mentioned just so anyone coming across this post knows that yes - you didn’t read it wrong - the timelines do overlap with different people saying different things and Bri being tied to all three men at those times without any real clear timeline for the relationships.

So far this is all there is to this mess. If there’s more - I’ll do a part two or addition.

I’d like to end this with saying - these masterposts are 95% just me making them for myself because I forget stuff, and so much goes on in the fandom that if I want to keep up with it all, I need a nice timeline for things. I’m posting this for anyone wanting to make sense of this circus too or just to put it into a timeline. I did fact check all the dates, posts, IG pics, links and so on - but mistakes can happen - if there is one feel free to let me know.

#boobiegate #bri #masterpost

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kpop-zone · 3 years

Text

True North | Chuu

High School AU | exes | “I let you mooch off of my Netflix and this is how you repay me?” | “It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

Genre: angsty

Wordcount: 1,870

As soon as you stepped foot into the classroom, you instantly felt like turning around and running away again. Of course, she was there. Laughing with people that she probably didn’t even know. But as the social butterfly that she was, she could charm every person on this planet in less than a second. Just like she had charmed you. You hated yourself for hating to see her this happy. You didn’t want to be that ex. But somehow you couldn’t bear to know that she was absolutely unfazed by your breakup while you were still looking through your pictures every night. Just when you were contemplating whether this was enough reason for you to drop this class, you could suddenly feel someone tapping your shoulder, so you turned around in confusion.

“Are you already tired of my class before the school year has even really started?”

Mr.Kim, your math teacher, asked with an amused expression on his face, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“N-no of course not!”

You stuttered, feeling like he had just caught you redhanded. Embarrassed, you lowered your head and quickly entered the room to search for a vacant seat. What a great way to leave a good impression on the first day of school... Not wanting to make an even worse impression, you quickly rummaged through your backpack to fish out your calculator and your pencil case when you suddenly felt someone tapping your shoulder once more. Stressed out, you turned around, just to be met with the wide (and highly adorable) grin of your ex-girlfriend who waved excitedly at you from the seat right behind you. In an instant, your already bad mood got even worse, and you rolled your eyes before turning to the front again. You already knew that this would be your least favorite class throughout the whole school year. The rest of the week confirmed your suspicion as you were able to avoid your girlfriend wherever else you were going. You attended no other classes together and in the cafeteria you always made sure to pick a table at the opposite side from where she was sitting. It made it easier not to think about her all of the time which was why you had a stomachache right before your next math class on Monday. You knew that seeing her would demolish all progress in getting over her in the blink of an eye.

But to your surprise Jiwoo wasn’t entertaining the whole class yet when you entered the room later than usual after having given yourself a pep talk in front of the school for almost ten minutes. Her seat was still empty, making you hope that she had dropped the class for some inexplicable reason. Nervously, you wriggled about on your chair while staring at the clock on the wall incessantly. There were only a few more seconds left till the class would start. If she wasn’t here yet it had to mean that she would not show up anymore, relieving you of the burden to see her every week, right? To your dismay, however, your ex-girlfriend breathlessly stumbled into the classroom with two iced beverages in her hand right when the bell rang to indicate the start of the first period. Like the needle of compass always found north, her eyes immediately found yours, causing her face to light up in an instant.

With big steps she headed directly for you like she was on some sort of mission, making you get smaller and smaller in your seat. You couldn’t even stand seeing her without having the urge to fling your arms around her neck to beg her to take you back, you definitely weren’t strong enough to talk with her. For a split-second you thought about running away, but before you could make a decision, a high-pitched squeal catapulted you back to reality again. Jiwoo’s wide grin had suddenly turned into a horrified grimace, and you felt a cold shudder spreading from your chest to the rest of your body. Confused, you looked down on yourself, making you realize that one of the beverages that Jiwoo had proudly paraded around, had found its way onto your shirt.

“I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to. I stumbled over your backpack and somehow the cup slipped out of my hand.”

Jiwoo gasped, still frozen to the spot. Your initial shock quickly died down as the ice-cold liquid seeped through your clothes, managing to wake you up better than any warm coffee.

“Are you serious?? I let you mooch off of my Netflix and this is how you repay me?!”

You growled angrily, 100% certain that Jiwoo had dropped the beverage on you on purpose.

“No!!! It’s not like that! This was not on purpose.”

Your ex-girlfriend yelled in despair, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes that had always been able to make you forgive her for everything.

“I can fix this!”

From one second to the other, Jiwoo’s annoyingly contagious positivity was back and before you knew what was happening, you already felt yourself being pulled off your chair towards the door. Without granting you a voice, Jiwoo dragged you through the almost empty hallways of your school to -as you assumed- the restrooms. Instead of protesting against Jiwoo’s unsolicited decision, however, you were busy staring at her hand that was tightly gripping your wrist. As much as you fought it, you couldn’t suppress the tingling feeling in your stomach that the much longed for feeling of Jiwoo’s touch on your skin caused. While the two of you had been dating, there had barely been a moment when you hadn’t held hands. And after you had broken up, you sometimes felt like you were going through some sort of phantom pain because your hands felt so empty without hers to hold. Now everything finally felt in place again and you couldn’t help but to wish that Jiwoo would never let go. Unfortunately, however, everything had to come to an end eventually. And your daydreaming of a time when everything was still alright came to an abrupt halt when someone suddenly called your name.

“Y/N?”

With a jolt you snapped you out of your trance and realized that Jiwoo neither was holding your wrist anymore nor dragging you through the hallways. The two of you had already reached one of the restrooms of your school and she was staring at you expectantly like she was waiting for you to say something.

“W-what?”

You asked confused, only faintly being aware that Jiwoo had asked you a question.

“I asked whether it’s ok that I clean your shirt?”

She repeated herself although this was the first time that you actually understood what she had been saying. Still feeling like you weren’t able to form a coherent verbal response because your brain had run too hot, you simply nodded and Jiwoo softly started dabbing a wet paper towel on the giant brown stain on your shirt.

“Oh no, this is your favorite shirt even, isn’t it?”

Jiwoo whined when the stain didn’t vanish as she had hoped, but you couldn’t even care less about it anymore. She remembered what your favorite shirt was? You knew that you shouldn’t feel so flattered by this unimportant fact, but your heart didn’t seem to care about what your brain had to say and fluttered in your chest by its own accord. This would be the perfect opportunity to make her feel bad and finally wipe that annoying grin off her face at least for a while, but once more you remained silent. Jiwoo didn’t seem to be bothered by your silence though. Instead, she started babbling about random things like always when she was nervous, and you simply listened to her sweet voice that you had missed so much. You didn’t know how long you stood there, allowing yourself to get completely entranced by her charms. Once more only an unexpected sound could rip you out of your daydreaming although this time the wake-up call was more unpleasant than the last one. It was the sound of your own voice that abruptly ripped you out of your trance. The most surprising thing about hearing your own voice was that you hadn’t even intended to speak. But it seemed like after the betrayal of your heart, now also your brain had plotted against you.

“It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

It took you some time to process what your mouth had let slip without your permission, but as soon as the message arrived in your brain, your eyes widened in shock and your body tensed up. Jiwoo mirrored your reaction and stopped dabbing your shirt before slowly looking up from your shirt and into your eyes. It was hard to pinpoint what emotions flashed over your ex-girlfriend’s face as your own emotions seemed to ride a rollercoaster in your brain. A little part of yourself was relieved to be freed of this secret. But you were also angry at yourself for letting the truth slip. After letting Jiwoo break your heart, you had sworn yourself to never let her know that she still had a grip on you despite everything that she had done to you. You told yourself that she would never be allowed to know that she still managed to make you fall in love with her over and over again. Every day. Every time that you had to see her.

But now she knew.

And you couldn’t help but to feel ashamed. Although you had known that Jiwoo obviously did not suffer from the breakup like you did, you gave her the gratification of revealing the power that she still had over you. Not being able to bear this shame any longer, you quickly shoved Jiwoo away, causing her to stumble backwards dumbfounded. Without losing another word, you brushed past her and fled the restroom. The tears that pooled in your eyes and stained the floor, made it hard to see where you were going but you trusted your instincts to get you as far away from Jiwoo as you possibly could. Once again, however, her omnipresent grasp reached out for you as her name rolled off her tongue and automatically made you slow your steps.

“Y/N, wait!”

Her voice bounced off the walls in the empty hallway and seemed to follow you until you reached the front exit, but this time, you didn’t give in to Jiwoo’s grasp. You kept running until you had long left the school building and couldn’t even see it anymore. You only stopped running once your lungs burned and you felt too lost to keep going although you knew this part of town like the back of your hand. It was no help to know the names of the streets by heart when none of these places could make the compass needle in your heart stop spinning. No matter where you would run, the needle would always keep on pointing in the same direction. Your feet would always want to carry you back to the same place.

To your true north that you had just left behind.

#drabble game #loona #loona scenario #loona imagine #chuu imagine #chuu scenario #kim jiwoo #chuu x reader #idolxreader #girl group scenario #girl group #kpop scenario #kpop

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llendrinall · 3 years

Text

A terrible question, but which Weasley has the highest body count?

Both Arthur and Molly have something under 10, from the first and the second wizarding war. Molly’s count is higher than Arthur’s.

Ginny is a zero. She is a very dangerous person and people know. On a base, instinctual level, veteran Death Eaters know to stay away from the freckled teenager. Ginny hexes a lot of people, but she doesn’t kill anyone during the war.

Ron is between 3 and 5. All after the war. All were attacking someone else. When they attack him, Ron engages in a duel, casts and counter-casts and dances around just like he would in a chess game. When they attack others, Ron flips the table and the board and finishes things in a very terminal and permanent way. (Hermione won’t admit it because she thinks it’s uncivilized, but she finds it so hot).

Fred and George are a 5. Together, because they fight together and no one can tell if it was the spell or the kick that ended Julius Mulciber. It happened during the Battle of Hogwarts except for one incident right when they had to go into hiding during the war.

Percy has killed 3 people and all of them were stone cold murders. Is killing someone in a duel a murder? From a legal standpoint it most likely is, but nobody in wizarding society considers it so. If you have your wand and it’s one on one, it’s not murder.

Percy has murdered three people. One was a mild mannered middle aged wizard. A perfectly polite and proper gentleman who was on his way to report Angelina Johnson’s location and blood status. He would claim that he was not a Death Eater and that he was merely following the rules and adhering to protocol and he would be saying the truth! Really! He was just a law-abiding citizen, someone who didn’t necessarily sympathize with the new government but who didn’t tolerate those radicals mix-breed who openly defied it.

Angelina would had been arrested and killed. Someone was going to die either way, Percy merely changed who.

The second one was also a man working at the Ministry. Actually, he came first. It was before Pius Thicknesse ascended to power. A head of department. Powerful. Influential. Charismatic.

Serial sexual harasser.

The thought “what if it were Ginny?” never crossed Percy’s mind because he couldn’t picture Ginny working in a Ministry office. In any case, it wasn’t a question of what if it were someone else, it was a question of being someone right now. Paula.

Percy didn’t kill him right away. Just because Percy was a stone cold murderer it didn’t mean it was his default mode of action. He tried to speak with him first, and with Paula. He told her he would support her if she filled a complaint. None of that worked, so Percy wrote a complaint himself that was ignored. The wizard who handled it actually burned it before Percy and told him he was doing him a favour. A promising young man like himself should be more careful about who he was baselessly accusing.

He did it on a Tuesday. The poison was slow and silent so it wasn’t until Thursday when they were told the tragic news of their dear colleague’s passing. Paula burst into tears and people used her reaction to say that she was hooking up with him, she was the one chasing him. Percy had a brief moment of panic, but he overheard an old woman in the cafeteria saying “good riddance” and over the next week Paula lost the exhaustion shadows under her eyes and Percy acquainted himself with the concept of “pattern of conduct”.

His third murder was of Mr. Wu, which is only relevant because Mr. Wu was very surprised and because Percy didn’t use magic.

Bill has killed 2-3 people, all at the Battle of Hogwarts. There was also a troll. It’s unclear if they count as people.

Oh, but you have skipped Charlie! You say.

No, I have not. Charlie comes last because Charlie is at the top. Definitely more than 18 kills but less than 45.

It’s the poachers. Dragon parts are used in potions and wand-making and many other things. There is a strong demand for dragon ingredients. Dragon reserves collect the shed scales and horns and even dragon dung, but that’s not enough to satisfy the market. They want more. Blood, liver, heart. And they are willing to pay for it.

They come get it.

And they find Charlie.

More than 18 but probably less than 45 confirmed kills Charlie.

Charlie came to dragon work believing, like everyone else in England, that the short life expectation for dragon workers was due to the dragons themselves, or rather, careless dragon work, Mum, if you are careful there is no danger. In fact, over 80% of injuries and deaths are due to furtive hunters. To be fair, they usually take measures to disguise their murders as dragon-related accidents.

The point is that Charlie didn’t come to this work expecting to be murdered and he won’t stand for that nonsense.

There is an annual dragon conference in Tanzania where all the world experts in dragon keep and dragon lore meet, and the sole reason it exists is so the Tanzania reserve would have an excuse to invite Charlie down for a bout of not-dying-today.

Charlie imparted a workshop on Romanian Longhorn’s calls, which is his actual area of expertise, not poacher fighting. That’s an unfortunate side effect of his job, much like dragon dung collection. The second night of the conference an armed group attacked the leader of the Kenyan reserve, who had been making amazing progress in winning legislative support. Charlie killed three of the poachers, scared the rest into a different career and earned a standing invitation from everyone to come work at their reserves whenever. Charlie is happy in Romania, so he declines the work offers but accepts all the conference invitations he keeps getting, happy under the assumption that people just want to hear more about Longhorn’ calls.

The Tanzanian Spiked Colossus is no longer in danger of extinction.

#harry potter #weasley #body count #verse: which weasley has the highest body count #violence mention #percy weasley #charlie weasley #textpost

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bosspigeon · 3 years

Text

if you're still bleeding

Pairing: Jax/M!Merc

Words: 2657

Summary: Jax should know better. He should know to mind his own damn business. But, unfortunately, he's well beyond "knowing better" now that he's gone and gotten tangled up with an unhinged mercenary with more knives than sense, and the scars that say the chances of him finding any sense are slim to none.

and if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.

'cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone.

we're setting fire to our insides for fun.

collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home,

it was a flood that wrecked this home.

- "Youth" by Daughter

CW for: implied/referenced sex, sexual humor/innuendos, references to blood, violence, and trauma, and implications of kink

Knox is a man with scars.

Jax has plenty of his own, of course, but Knox has a lot of scars. There's a story to most of them, too, and he's never shy about telling them. Hell, half the time he tells those stories completely unprompted, whether you want him to or not.

There's a scar on his chin from where Royal told him he couldn't knee slide the entire bar. There’s the ugly knot of scar tissue where his left arm used to be, where the port to his prosthetic is grafted on. There's the scar in his stomach from the mook Jax had to help him bury. There's a scar on his lip where he bit himself too hard with his freakishly sharp teeth trying to keep quiet while Jax bent him over the hood of his car outside Saints and Sinners in the wee hours of the morning.

He's particularly happy to blab the story about that one to anyone who'll listen.

But he doesn't talk about the scar across his throat.

As little clothing as he tends to wear on the day to day, ("As little as I can get away with," he says with a sleazy wink) his neck is always covered. High-collared shirts, a jauntily knotted scarf, decorative chokers and heavy leather collars always keep it covered. He'll flash his tits before he'll show his throat—but in all fairness, it's not really all that hard to get him to flash his tits.

Jax didn't even see the scar until the fourth or fifth inadvisable hate fuck, at which point he was beginning to think he didn't hate the merc quite as much as he thought, considering he kept letting the little bastard in when he showed up at the door out of nowhere—and didn't shoot him when he decided to forgo the door entirely and come in through the window. (Jax still can’t be sure how he even got to the window, seeing as Jax lives in an apartment well above ground level, but he figures he’s better off not asking.) He didn’t think to ask about it until he’d actually lost count of how many inadvisable hate-fucks there’d been, and when they’d progressed somehow from inadvisable hate-fucks to still pretty inadvisable but otherwise amicable casual fucks.

Knox was loose and relaxed, quiet in a way Jax didn't even think was possible when they first met. And, to think, all it took was shoving him face down into the pillows and thoroughly wearing him out. Usually, he rolled out of bed as soon as his legs could hold him again, commandeered Jax's shower, and used half a bottle of his expensive conditioner before he disappeared without so much as a thank you. This time, he stayed. He sprawled gracelessly across Jax's sweat-stained silk sheets, arms stretched over his head, eyes half-closed and his ever-smirking mouth curled into something softer... almost sweeter.

Jax doesn't know what possessed him to roll over, to reach out and touch, but he did. He started at the inner thigh, the bruises he'd left with teeth and then fingers, a rumbling of possessive pride stoking the banked coals of satisfaction in his belly. His knuckles skimmed the soft curve of the merc's belly, the angry red scar tissue of that knife wound, then higher still. Inked into his sternum is a coyote skull, surrounded by boldly outlined flowers that curve along the underside of his breasts. Jax was almost surprised by the softness of the design, especially in comparison to the rest of the merc's ink, like the crude stick-and-poke perforated line and little pair of scissors right above his prosthetic, or the dirty pinup of some generic muscled pretty boy on his bicep, or the peach on his inner thigh that bears an artful addition of a T-dick very much similar to Knox’s own.

He wondered vaguely if the flowers meant anything to Knox.

Before he could dwell on the uncomfortably tender direction his thoughts had taken, his fingers travelled upwards, flicking absently at one of the heavy, angular piercing through Knox's nipples. Knox huffed a rough laugh, watching the progress of Jax's hand through eyes narrowed to dozy, yellow slits.

He traced Knox's collarbone, and his body was all but melted into Jax's bed, soft and pliant. Like he belonged there.

And then Jax’s curiosity got the better of him. He saw the scar, a thin line, pale with age, but standing in stark relief against Knox's tanned skin. It sits at a bit of an angle, slicing across the middle of the merc's throat.

The second his fingers made contact, skimming that raised line of flesh, he knew he'd fucked up.

Knox's body went taut for a split second, and that was all the warning Jax got before Knox was twisting his wrist hard enough for the bones to grind together and snarling in his face like a wild animal. If his knives weren't two rooms away in his discarded pile of clothes, Jax knows he would have lost fingers.

For once, Knox didn't say anything. For once, he was dead silent, mouth a grim sneer, eyes flat and hard. He shoved Jax roughly off him and rolled out of bed. He didn't look back once, stalking out of Jax's bedroom naked, every inch of his compactly muscled body vibrating with tension. Jax heard the rustle of clothes, the jingle of buckles and zippers and a half dozen knives, and then the front door slamming shut.

He didn't see Knox again until Orla called them in for another job, and it was as if nothing had happened. He was his usual smug, annoying self, not a single break in his usual facade of irreverent humor and Napoleonic bravado.

And maybe some of Knox's reckless stupidity is rubbing off on him, because Jax can't shake the curiosity that grips him, even now. He shoves it down, naturally, because he doesn't want the batshit merc to get twitchy on him again when he's got enough knives on him at any given time to outfit a military squadron. Hell, for all Jax knows, that's the end of it. He's not going to go crawling back to Knox (even if the sex is really fucking good—it's always the crazy ones, isn’t it?) and he knows Knox won't come to him first.

Except he does, dragging Jax into one of the back rooms after a meeting with Orla, shoving him against the wall, and dropping to his knees. Things go right back to normal after that, or as normal as they ever are with Coyote Fucking Knox. And as normal as they can be once Orla oh-so-sweetly reminds him there are cameras in the back rooms, and if he doesn't want stills of his dick forwarded to the entire Mirage gang, he'll keep his and Knox's exhibitionism where she doesn't have to see it.

So Knox continues to invade Jax's privacy, steal petty shit from his apartment and/or pockets, and loudly demand that Jax fuck him hoarse (-er) if he wants him to shut up.

And he winds up tangled in Jax's sheets again, sprawled out on his belly with one leg tossed over Jax's thigh, his face smashed into a pillow, one smug yellow eye watching Jax try to catch his breath beside him.

He could let it be. It's not like this is anything but a convenience. Some fun between… well, they're definitely not friends. Coworkers, if anything, and even that's pushing it. For a while, Jax considered it a fair trade for dealing with Knox's bullshit constantly. Now, it's becoming a pattern, and when it comes to semi-regular sex with a stab-happy mercenary, patterns can be dangerous.

But he can't kill the curiosity.

He figures his best bet is being blunt. And maybe getting ready to dodge in the very likely event things go south. He doesn't touch this time, at least not where they aren't already, Knox’s knee between his legs, the skin feeling a bit feverish and clammy as the sweat cools. The urge to touch is still there—he left some nice bite marks on Knox's shoulders he'd like to reacquaint himself with—but he ignores it for now. He rolls onto his side, meets that one yellow eye with quiet consideration, and props his head up on his hand.

Knox must read the change in his face, because he goes from cat-got-the-cream contentment to a warily curious tension. Jax just goes right for the throat, so to speak. “Any chance of hearing the story behind that one?” he says, casual as anything, and nods in the vague direction of Knox’s neck.

There’s a growling noise building up behind Knox’s teeth, but he bites it back. He smiles, but it feels feral, like an animal baring its teeth looks like a smile, but it's really a threat. It looks brittle, like it'll shatter if he tightens his jaw any further.

Jax gives in to the urge, reaching out to touch, fingertips skimming down the mercenary's spine. A shiver ripples across the skin. He’s not sure if it’s the right move, but at this point, if you’re going to Hell...

“I don’t know,” Knox says flatly, and Jax is almost shocked he answered at all. There’s no inflection, no mirth. Just that broken-glass smile.

Jax snorts. Knox never fucking shuts up, that much is true, but Jax isn’t stupid. He knows when someone’s talking a lot and saying nothing of importance on purpose, and he also knows when Knox can’t deflect, he lies his ass off like he was born to do it. Even Orla barely knows anything about her least favorite favorite merc or where he came from, though the chances of her caring enough to even try to find out are slim to none. Still, he has no idea what the mercenary even has to gain from lying, especially here. "If you don't want to say anything, just tell me to fuck off."

The knife edge smile stretches wider. Tips closer to the breaking point. "Fuck off," he echoes like a parrot.

Something starts to uncurl in Jax's gut, something burbling and acidic, a nasty niggling feeling he can't quite name. "You're serious," he says, and he doesn't want to believe it, mostly because he can't imagine someone like Knox taking that sort of… personal unknown well. “Nothing?”

The smile cracks, and Knox lifts his head so Jax gets the full effect of it. His eyes are wide, wild, and suddenly that smile is too big for his face. Slowly, he sits up, and there's the scar. Old and faded, but splitting his throat neatly and boldly from east to west. He drags his thumb across it, digs it in hard enough the white scar tissue goes a bit pink. He laughs. He's never had a pleasant laugh, rough and raspy and mean. Somehow, this one is worse. “Not a lick,” he drawls, and the effort it takes him to sound so casual almost makes Jax cringe. “There’s a reason Orla found me in the fuckin’ bargain bin.” He taps his temple, his messily painted nail clicking against the chip in his head.

Jax’s eyes flick down to the scar, frowning deeply. It doesn’t make sense. Knox is deflecting again, he has to be, but there’s something in the way he’s holding himself, the tension radiating from him, the way he slumps against the headboard of Jax’s bed with his knees pulled up, not quite close enough to hug to his chest, but more like he’s thinking about it, resisting the urge to physically hold himself together and risk looking weak.

"I have nightmares, sometimes," he admits, so soft the syllables catch on the rough edges of his ragged voice. "They never make any fucking sense. I'm just… I'm choking. Something’s cutting into my neck, and there’s someone behind me, and I know them, but— But I'm guilty? I don't know for what." He laughs, bitterly brittle. "Could be fucking anything. Got a lot to be guilty for that I can remember, never mind what I can't."

He inhales, and it sounds like it hurts him, like his breath is made of shards of glass. He drags his hand down his face until he can curl his fingers around his throat so the scar doesn't show. "I just know there's this perfume Orla wears that makes me want to climb the fucking walls and I don't know why. I think I know how to play the piano, but I can’t even look at one without wanting to smash it to pieces. Sometimes I hear some… some fucking opera song, or some shit? And I know the words, and I want to sing along, but then my voice just—just cracks, and I feel like… like a broken fucking wind-up toy? It's like my head doesn't remember anything, but the rest of me does and it makes me so fucking angry. What am I missing? Why does it matter?” His voice hitches dangerously, and there’s a stab of panic in Jax’s belly, his hands twitching like they want to—to reach out? “Why can’t it just leave me the fuck alone?"

Knox squeezes his own throat so hard the skin dimples around his fingers and bleeds white where he’s cutting off bloodflow. His shoulders tremble. There's something in the furrow of his brow, the twist of his mouth, that says angry isn't the only thing it makes him, but he either doesn't have the words to say it, or he just won't, not even to himself.

The silence falls again. Jax always thought he preferred silence where Knox was concerned. Turns out he was wrong. This silence is brutal, heavy and choking and just… wrong. When Knox does see fit to break it, it's with a loud exhale that almost makes Jax start.

"Would you look at the time," the merc says loudly, shaking out his bare wrist and looking at it critically. Jax could almost laugh. Knox tosses his legs over the edge of the bed smiling crookedly over his shoulder. "I should really head out, huh? Don't wanna overstay my welcome."

Before he can think, Jax snaps a hand out and catches Knox’s hip, squeezing. Not enough to stop him if he really wants to go, but enough to give him pause. Once again, Jax counts himself lucky they rarely make it to the bedroom before one or both of them are naked, which means all those knives are somewhere by the door, or scattered across his coffee table, or in the leather jacket tossed over the back of his couch. Coyote turns slightly, just enough to eyeball him. Just one yellow eye.

There's a lot Jax could say, a lot he even wants to, but there's something raw in that one yellow eye, something wary and broken that just wants to hide somewhere quiet and lick its wounds. They've been at this for way too fucking long at this point, Jax should know what to do with that, shouldn't he?

Maybe he does.

He snorts. "When the fuck have you ever cared about overstaying your welcome?" He smacks Knox's hip just on the wrong side of gentle, and rolls over. "You're not leaving until you help me change these sheets. Hell, maybe if I'm feeling generous, I'll let you back in bed after we shower."

He pushes up to his feet and stretches out the kinks in his muscles, allowing himself to luxuriate in the pleasant soreness leftover from their romp. Knox is quiet behind him, and he can't really think of when he actually started to trust the crazy bastard enough to turn his back to him.

Knox makes a rough little sound, something not quite a laugh. "Is that an order, Sir?" he asks, low and raspy-sweet.

Jax glances back with a raised eyebrow. "Do I need to make it one?"

#remember you will die #rywd #vapolis #rywd jax #rywd fanfic #rywd merc #pidge writes #oc: coyote knox #idk take the warnings into account for ur own comfort #this is more about the vulnerability and the tenderness between two deeply emotionally stunted idiots #anyway i have been picking at this on my bus rides to/from work for the last week #and performing narrative surgery to fix a screwup (bc i cant read apparently gfhdjg) proved to be a solid warmup #for diving into those comms #so uh #here we go!#enjoy i guess!

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peterprkrsbtch · 3 years

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sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something. “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.” You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter?

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #avengers #marvel #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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clonecest-bin-account · 3 years

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300 followers bingo - Bad Batch | Band AU

(A story about how the Bad Batch gained a new member)

It’s always been their dream, becoming famous, even if a certain asshole - coff coff, Crosshair, coff coff - likes to act like such childish thoughts are too low for him, and now… well, they haven’t exactly reached it yet, but they’re getting close, Hunter can feel it.

All four of them have always loved music, and they love playing in their band, with Crosshair on guitar, Tech on the keyboard, Wrecker on drums, and Hunter that guides them with his singing. They have been together since they were kids, playing with fake instruments, but as soon as they got old enough, they bought the real deal.

Sure, their music is a bit… particular, to say the least, since none of them has actually studied music - they’ve all learned to play on their own, without the need of a teacher - so it’s not exactly popular, but it’s fine like this: they wouldn’t stand out if they played the same exact shit everyone else plays, right?

Things are moving up, although slowly, but progress is still progress.

Who would’ve thought that they would be able to find a few gigs around town? Apparently many locals are trying to get some experimental musicians in order to gain attention from the public, whom we know loves curiosities.

It’s their perfect occasion to show others what they’re capable of, getting the local crowd familiar with them and their style of music and publicizing their spotify account as well as their youtube channel, even though they mostly just put their covers there.

… There’s still something missing to their music, though, something that they could easily fix if they find the right guy: one of the few critiques that they accept about what they produce, is that the baseline is quite weak, because it’s true.

Usually Tech takes care of it, along with Wrecker, but it’s obvious that a proper bassist would make things go way more smoothly.

There’s only one problem: finding the bassist.

Hunter doesn’t think they’re particularly unlikable, just that they have a quite peculiar dynamic, and yet every time it seems like they’ve found the right one, they always leave in a matter of a couple of days. Oh well, he doesn’t blame them: it’s definitely harder to become famous when you insist on making experimental stuff, rather than following the trends, though where’s the fun in that, he has no idea.

“We don’t need a bassist,” Crosshair said once.

“Just ‘cause you’re the reason most of them quit, doesn’t mean you have to be an ass about it!” Wrecker replies, but thankfully Tech’s interjection breaks up any potential argument between the two. God knows they have enough of them already.

“It has been proved that adding a base does make our music sound better,” he says, scratching his chin then. “We just need to find someone that gets along with us.”

“Maybe if we ditched Crosshair…”

“Hey!”

“Guys, c’mon,” Hunter intervenes, “there’s no need to fight.”

“Right… Sorry Hunter,” Wrecker mutters, while Crosshair says nothing, though he does lower his gaze.

At that point Hunter sighs, but he goes quickly back to a hopeful demeanor - after all, they all look up to him for guidance, he can’t falter.

“C’mon, let’s not lose hope. We’ll find someone…”

Indeed, they do find someone.

It happens almost causally: Crosshair’s browsing the internet, when he stumbles about one of those clickbait-y articles about a talented bassist who’s keeping playing even after losing his arm.

Despite the fact that he’s not expecting to find anything mind-blowing, Crosshair still decides to check the article out of curiosity.

What he finds is the same ol’ tear jerking story that makes him roll his eyes, not because of the story per se, but for how it’s framed. It makes him wonder if the bassist in question, Echo is his name - quite peculiar, it makes him wonder if it’s a stage name like his own is - has read the article beforehand and has approved of what has been written on it. With the way he appears in pictures, he seems humble and nice, so Crosshair doubts it.

Something catches Crosshair’s attention thought: apparently, despite his story, Echo plays solo, but not for personal choice. Just like them, he’s having a hard time finding someone willing to play with him.

At the end of the article, he finds a series of videos in which, he supposes, Echo plays. It’s like they’re taunting him, trying to get him to watch them.

Eh, what the hell, how much could it hurt to give them a peek?

Well, color Crosshair impressed. He’s not a base expert, of course, but he has never heard someone play like this Echo does; he’s truly a natural. He’s so fast that it seems that he’s barely moving his fingers, to the point that it’s hard for Crosshair to follow each and every movement.

Holy shit, could he be…

“Hunter, come here! You gotta see this guy!”

Echo manages to charm everyone.

“It’s him!” Wrecker exclaims. “He’s the one!”

“Yes, his addition would be very beneficial to us,” Tech agrees, eyes still peeled to the screen, watching rapt as Echo plays.

Crosshair turns to Hunter. “So? What do you think?”

“He’s good,” Hunter admits, “but I wonder if he’d be willing to give us a chance…”

“He seems nice enough,” Tech comments, but he too seems to share Hunter’s worry.

“In that case, let’s just ask him,” Wrecker suggests. “Didn’t we do the same with the others too?”

“That’s true, it’s worth a shot…”

“C’mon,” Crosshair begins, “we’re all on the same page for once, let’s just do it.”

“Alright,” Hunter concedes, allowing himself to feel hopeful, though then he points at Tech. “But you’re the one writing the e-mail this time.”

Tech chuckles. “Leave it to me.”

Dear Bad Batch,

I have been a fan of yours for quite some time. I find your take on music refreshing and courageous, which unfortunately isn’t something that I can say for many other artists of this time.

You can imagine how honored I’ve felt reading your e-mail! I’ve never seen myself as someone who can be all that inspiring, so I was surprised to read how much of an impression I’ve made on you.

That said, I would love to meet up and discuss about music and a potential collaboration. Actually, I’m looking forward to it.

Let me know whenever you’re free, and we can arrange something.

Best regards.

Echo.

Echo’s response has been very quick, which has taken everyone by surprise.

As they read and reread the e-mail, almost as if they expect the text to change if they stare at it hard enough, they can’t help but to smile at each other.

In the end, Hunter has to admit it:

“Yes, guys. I think we’ve truly found the one.”

#300 followers bingo #bad batch #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper wrecker #clone trooper tech #clone trooper crosshair #arc trooper echo #my fics

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evakuality · 3 years

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Mia, episode five

1. One thing Druck is super good at is these aesthetic shots. This whole opening bit reminds me of the scene with Amira when she’s praying in her room. Lots of beautiful shots of the room, curtains and stuff, which are just super pretty with a few hints of colour. I dunno, this is just an aesthetic I like and I appreciate that Druck caters to me. Mia is so cute, too! Like both the way she looks and also how kind she is. She still doesn’t really like Alex a lot (though you could see in that montage from the previous night that she’s warming up to him) but she still feels like she should leave things looking nice. These little post-it notes are sort of cute too, and you can see that she thinks they’re sweet. I don’t like this Bjorn though.

2. Interesting that we get a clip specifically one week later. I have no idea how that must have felt while this was live, and I’m really glad that I didn’t have to live through these long gaps in any of the things I did watch in real time. This one was reasonably low key though, so maybe the wait wasn’t as agonising. If you didn’t know who Bjorn is (I’m assuming the Niko character) then nothing in the last couple of clips would have felt all that alarming. But Mia’s so flirty here - that one conversation at his house must have really charmed her. Pity we didn’t really get to hear a lot of it because he still hasn’t charmed me!! And actually that ‘show a montage of how things are going while a song and/or other conversation plays overtop’ is a huge thing Druck does, I think. I feel like in some cases (Matteo and David after their first pool kiss moment, for example, or Hanna and Jonas breaking up) work quite well. But here, I think we needed to hear more of Alex to actually believe that Mia would be this flirty with him. For me, this is too big a turnaround from her very cold manner with him at the piano and an actual proper look at that conversation might have helped. But also, I am super biased because William and so maybe a more reasonable person might like it okay. This bit with Linn is weird. Genuinely creepy, and I’m not sure why they’re setting her up to feel like this. Maybe some sort of hint of the creepiness to come with Bjorn (I’m assuming it’s coming, anyway).

3. I don’t get this bit with all the pictures at the school. I assume it will become obvious later but I’m not sure what exactly they were trying to do with this. You’d think they run the risk of having the whole Abi chaker clan thing shut down - if this happened in my school there’d be so much trouble. A groups of kids once put post-its all over one teacher’s room and they got in SO much trouble for it, and that wasn’t obscene like this is. This thing here seems so targeted at the Abi thing, using their plan specifically, that it feels like someone outside the group wants them not to be allowed to run their theme. Or someone in the group who wants a different motto maybe. I don’t know, but it feels very mean and very specifically directed at this group of people.

4. Hmmm, I’m with Leonie on this one. I’d be giving Carlos the super evil stare too. It may be ‘funny’ to some of these people, but given that there are younger kids at this school (I assume, right? They still have classes running for the smaller ones at the end of Matteo’s season, allowing their prank to go ahead) this is sure to go down really badly with the school itself. I’m rolling my eyes at the ones who are outraged that the school is considering reporting it - what did they expect? Also, surely they can figure out who was doing it - people were literally throwing handfuls of the pictures over the stairs. Surely they could work out who it is. It’s pretty clear that Alex still thinks this is funny and I’m losing patience with him. Every time it seems like maybe he’s getting less gross he goes and acts like this again. Bleh. I’m not often rooting for Leonie and feeling for her, but wow today I really am. This is shitty and she has a right to be angry.

5. Ew, Alex, why are you stalking Mia again? She’s made it pretty clear she’s not happy with you. Turning up out of the blue like a creep isn’t a good way to go about winning her over again. His ‘we were drunk, what can you do?’ is so... stupid??? They’ve lost money from this, the school is really angry, they could easily have some pretty bad consequences and he’s all ‘meh, it was a drunken prank’? I know money isn’t an issue for him, but there are issues here beyond the money. I’m also kind of annoyed that everyone keeps suggesting she’s upset because she’s jealous. I’ll be really annoyed if the show carries on this way - this isn’t just a silly little prank, and people have every right to be angry and annoyed. Diminishing it to jealousy isn’t cool. Is Leonie also jealous? The people who are angry and upset they’re being blamed and their money has been taken?

6. I do love scenes where the whole girl squad is together. They make me happy and I miss seeing them together so much. But OMG, Alex is blackmailing Mia again???? I mean I guess it worked the first time so why wouldn’t he? But this is seriously shitty behaviour. Honestly, in clip one I was mildly starting to warm to him with the post-its and all, but he’s managed to speed run right back into ‘asshole’ category. This was the problem in the og as well - William was such an asshole, that in order to make him likeable, we had to see a much more genuinely villainous character. Alex is still super dislikeable and so we need someone ‘worse’ to make him look palatable, which I assume is coming. We’re halfway through - we should like him by now. I dunno. Maybe some people do? But he still has done nothing to make me think he’s nice or someone who Mia might be attracted to.

7. Oh a long Friday clip? Almost half the episode? I guess it’s going to be a rough one for Mia then. More reflections again - her whole face in the mirror now, but it’s surrounded by graffiti. I’m always fascinated by the way mirrors and reflections work, and it’s fun to see Mia slightly obscured in her mirrors even now. It’s not as disjointed as it was at the start but it’s not a fully clear reflection either. I may not like the way Noora/Mia’s story goes but I do like some of these things which show the progress.

8. I feel kind of sorry for Jonas, because that break up wasn’t his choice. But seriously, he seems to be blaming this on Hanna a bit and like ????? He chose to make her feel small and unworthy through her whole season. She’s allowed to try to figure herself out outside of him and his wants and needs. Eh, I know he’s hurting and all, but that’s actually his issue and he shouldn’t be pushing it on her.

9. This scene with Mia and Alex bothers me. He still seems to have no idea why she might find his actions (selfish and self-serving and filled with blackmail) offputting. ‘I fixed it, so we should totally be together now’ is such an immature and childish take on this. These types of guys need to grow up and learn that they can’t just buy and/or coerce their way into whatever they want. I like the way they decide to have Kiki walk past just as Mia has to choose whether to say she doesn’t want Alex or not. It adds a poignancy to it and Mia obviously chooses to stick by her friends. I do wish it felt more conflicting, like if Alex genuinely had changed or had shown he has depth or something it would be a bigger ‘wow she’s rejecting him for her friend’ but instead he’s still such an unpleasant character that I don’t care.

10. I’m not sure why Mia does the brushing off of the makeup - I feel like it made more sense when Noora did it (I mean I watched it once a very long time ago so who knows, but my memory is that it was her way of trying to reject being ‘pretty’ and having guys liking her because it was messing her up). With Mia, I don’t understand. Someone help me out?

11. I still don’t get what Mia sees in Alex. Again, I know I have a really big bias against him because of William and I know it was always going to be tough for him to be someone I care about. But even so, this feels like a huge whiplash when she says of course she likes him. I’d get it if we’d seen any of his development, but every time he took a mini step forward he shoved himself right back into dislikeable territory. Once again, I mourn the actual conversation between Mia and Alex. This all feels far too fast, and the fact that this is suggesting his blackmail is all good is very worrying. All the post-it notes in the world can’t make me think he’s nice enough to want to kiss.

Overall, I didn’t really like this one. I feel like the pacing is still off; I don’t believe the speed at which Mia has fallen for him and honestly it hasn’t been very long since Kiki was with Alex and had her heart broken. The fact that Mia even saw her and told him she doesn’t like him only to turn around immediately and change her mind is strange to me. Mia has always come across as a caring person who tries to do the right thing and help out her friends. That she has apparently no qualms at this point is difficult for me. They’re acting the hell out of this, but I can’t buy it. Unfortunately. Sadly, because this is based on a very flawed original, I don’t think it’s going to make me enjoy these two. There are things that I’m interested in seeing as we go forward but most of those have zero to do with Alex.

#druck #mia - episode 5 #didn't like this one #update on feelings about Alex - still don't like him #honestly I don't see why Mia goes after him #none of this makes sense to me

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lady-z-writes · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 of my Heisenberg x Reader fic is finally out!

Smut below the cut:

The large door slams behind [Y/N], blocking out the cold air. Brushing passed Heisenberg, she tosses the logs down on the fire, urging it to roar back to life.

He’s staring when she glances over her shoulder. When he’s caught, he looks away bashfully, pretends to really be focusing on the pictures on her wall.

“Take your coat off,” [Y/N] demands as she stands.

“What?”

“Your coat. Take it off.”

Heisenberg narrows his eyes, grips at his hammer. “What are you playing at?”

She smirks. “Cute. I don’t plan to undress you, despite what Serena’s pheromones might be convincing you.”

“They have no power over me,” he denies, setting his hammer down.

[Y/N] merely raises an eyebrow at him, extends her hand for his jacket.

The thought of being undressed makes his gut flip for some reason so he busies himself by removing the coat and handing it to her. His hands are shaking so he clenches and unclenches his gloved fist to try to warm up his fingers.

She disappears into another room for a moment before returning with a glass and a whiskey bottle. His coat is placed on a nearby rack, moved closer to the fire to dry it off.

“To warm you up,” she suggests, handing him the whiskey and glass. “I’ll run you a hot bath.”

“N-no, that won’t be necessary,” but his body is chilled through and he’s pulling a chair closer to the fireplace in order to warm up.

[Y/N] leaves once more, ignoring him completely.

“Ignorant bitch.” Opening the bottle, he pours himself some whiskey, takes a sip. “Good booze, though.”

Heisenberg wants to inspect the books on a nearby shelf, but the warmth of the fire is too enticing. He realizes that he’s still feeling a little dazed after the incident with the tree-lady. There’s still a heaviness in his gut, a vague need that he doesn’t want to acknowledge right now – and he’s sure it has everything to do with those pheromones.

[Y/N] returns at the worst moment; right as he’s flashing back to the incident in the snow – his hands tracing over skin…he hasn’t touched someone like that in…-

“Bath’s ready,” [Y/N] announces. “If you are.”

Forearms pressing to his thighs, he leans forward, hoping he can cover himself until it’s safe to stand up.

He tries distracting himself with chatter, but he’s struggling on where to begin. He has so many questions.

“How many Cadou experiments live here?” he decides to start there.

[Y/N] sits on the chair nearest him. “Well…the ones that aren’t failures?”

“Failures?” he repeats.

“I mean, I guess we all kind of are. Miranda’s island of misfit toys – those of us that didn’t have influential families; those that had powers that just didn’t make the cut to exist in the main village.” The conversation is very distracting for his current predicament. “You have…-Lycans, aren’t they?” he nods. “Think of our Wendigo in a similar manner.”

Heisenberg gets it now. “And the rest?”

“Like I said: there’s no ruler, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“And Miranda?” he drones.

[Y/N] goes still now. “I think your bath will get cold.”

Heisenberg stands in an instant, uses his free hand to grip at her throat. He crouches.

“You’ll answer me. Now.”

[Y/N] nods against his hand, her gaze drifting from his eyes to his lips. “She’s always monitoring – even when we think she isn’t.”

“Are they devout?” he nods toward the door, asking about the other villagers.

“Not entirely,” [Y/N] chokes out.

“Are you?”

“Are you?” she retorts.

With a huff, Heisenberg lets go of her throat, stands, cusses.

It’s not that he wants a bath, but it surely would warm him up. Plus, they’re at a standstill; one of them has to make a move in order to progress. But if he admits his disdain for Miranda, will she tattle? Can he trust her?

She’s left him alone upstairs so naturally he’s scoping out the place. Nothing fancy: two bedrooms and a bathroom. She’s got crystals strewn about in odd places, candles lit, all the curtains drawn. It’s quaint.

The door doesn’t lock, which is unfortunate. Heisenberg grumbles the entire time he’s undressing, but the steam from the hot water is making him feel better already. It’s…inviting. He’d never admit it aloud.

Feeling foolish, he settles into the steaming tub with a sigh – not realizing how chilled he actually was, how sore he’d been. The small table beside the tub makes a convenient place to put down his whiskey, right beside the soaps. He imagines [Y/N] placed the table in here for a similar reason; that or reading in the tub.

He has plenty on his mind – many more questions he needs to ask [Y/N] but he can’t – not until he knows whose side she’s on.

Despite his best efforts, his mind still drifts. [Y/N] isn’t…unattractive by any means. He’s sure his wandering mind has everything to do with those pheromones from that tree-lady, but the way [Y/N] was looking up at him when he had his hand around her neck…

“Fuck,” he hisses as he looks down through the clear water.

Hard. Again.

Shifting deeper into the tub, he tries to ignore it, enjoy the warmth, heat up…but he can’t shake the need in him.

Agitated, he decides to clean up a bit, surprised she didn’t leave him with flowery-scented soaps.

Fighting instinct, Heisenberg refuses to relax any longer – lest he falls asleep in this tub. His hard cock is still distracting. Well, it’s this or be disjointed all night; let his eyes travel all over her body instead of focusing on the answers he desires.

Her skin felt so soft…it felt so good to touch someone in that way.

His closed fist is moving around his cock before he even realizes he’s doing it; the slight whooshing of the water too loud for his taste. Right now, the thought of [Y/N]’s laughter as she sees him like this – teases him for being needy. It’s downright insulting.

Embarrassing to be masturbating in some stranger’s home; shameful, yet…sort of…erotic?

Thumb gliding over his tip, he arches and bites back a moan. He lets the water glide around him while he exhales through his nostrils.

Close. Too close.

He hears the whistling wind outside, decides to swallow down the remainder of the whiskey before he gets serious with his intention. There’s a nagging feeling that he needs to get this out of his system in order to really focus on what he’s doing here. Damn that temptress.

Heisenberg steps out of the tub, wraps himself in the soft towel [Y/N] left for him, and starts stroking his cock again as the water drains.

Closing his eyes, he lets himself fantasize…images of Serena, of [Y/N], his scarred hand on her soft skin, the way she looked at his half-chub, how she felt pressed against him. How long had it been since he’d let himself fantasize? Longer, still, since he’d touched anyone in a remotely sexual manner.

And there was a reason for that.

Because he couldn’t stop himself.

It’d been so long that he knew it would be the floodgates opening – a total fucking disaster for whatever poor soul gets his attention. He’d start and not want to let go. Heisenberg had shrouded himself away from his animalistic desires for so long, he’s almost nervous to see who he’ll become if the levee broke.

Well, he’s about to find out.

Fist pumping around his cock, he lets himself feel this pleasure. It isn’t long before he’s biting back grunts as he spills into the draining water, frantically chasing that release.

It’s enough to take the edge off, but it also isn’t nearly what he truly desires.

Dressing, he cracks his neck and takes a second to refocus, button up, shove down what he just unburied.

Right.

His goal is to learn this village, know what [Y/N] knew, maybe make an ally – a useful ally, might he add.

If only he could get passed that mouth of hers.

•••

[Y/N] is in the kitchen when he comes down – whiskey bottle a little lighter, clearly, she’s been drinking too. It smells amazing in the house and he realizes she’s mixing a pot of soup.

“I hope you’ll have some…and then I think it’s best if you leave.”

“Leave?” he repeats her. “Oh, no, I’ve got questions and you’ve got answers. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

The name wasn’t endearment but she still heats up anyway. A Lord calling her this? Unreal.

“I just…I really think it’s best for you,” she ladles soup into a bowl for him, places it on the kitchen table.

“What, you turn into a Lycan at midnight?”

“Nothing like that,” she dismisses.

“Then what?” he puts himself in her personal space, towers over her, likes the stirring in his chest. “I’m not moving until you tell me why.”

She looks contemplative – frustrated.

“It’s because of Mother Miranda, okay?”

He cocks his eyebrow at her. “S’that so?”

“I answered you, can you move?”

He raises his hands, side-steps, turns toward her as she takes a few steps back.

“You and Miranda talk much?”

She’s silent again, places her own bowl on the table. “Eat before it gets cold.”

“Rather powerless to be making these kinds of demands,” he teases.

“And in my presence, so are you.”

The menacing look he gives her makes her freeze. In an instant, she’s pushed up against the wall; his forearm against her neck, body pressing harshly against hers.

His gaze flicks down to her lips as she lets out a shaky – almost erotic – breath.

He doesn’t even say anything, simply presses his thigh between her legs just to hear that sound again. She bites her lip to muffle it, but it’s there, and he can feel a jolt in his abdomen. The excitement that blooms in him is surprising.

“So, I’m still having a reaction from that bitch’s pheromones – what’s your excuse?”

She’s embarrassed, called out, and it looks cute on her. He shifts his thigh just slightly but enough to earn a startled look.

“H-Heisenberg, I’m sorry.”

He hums a, “don’t be” before ducking to kiss her.

She kisses him back, meeting tentatively until his fingers knot in her hair and pull. It’s like he’s awakened something in her too, the way she’s hungry for more. Her hands drape over his shoulders as he removes his forearm from her throat. Hair still damp, he’s hatless and she thinks it’s handsome.

“You should eat,” she finally manages between heated kissing.

“Mmmm, yeah, I should…”

The innuendo makes her heated, pawing at his shirt yet almost trying to push him away.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, sir. It’s Serena’s power still.”

“And how, exactly, do I stop it?”

“This’ll just feed into it more,” she says this, but her eyes are taking in every inch of him that she can see – the crush she’s developed starting to make itself known. “It’ll wear off in time, but…” his fingers trail down her neck, lower until he cups a breast. “You aren’t exactly helping speed up the process.”

“May as well have fun with it, right?”

[Y/N] inhales sharply as his lips meet hers again in a hurried kiss. She doesn’t pull back right away, but lets him linger there before her better judgement kicks in.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she tries to sound demanding, harsh, but her voice waivers.

“Says who?”

“Says Miranda.”

Talk about a boner-killer. Heisenberg takes a step back, watches [Y/N] try to right herself. He narrows his eyes, sits down at the table.

“So, you do talk to her?”

[Y/N] shakes her head, sitting too. “When she sent me away to live here, she told me to stay away from the village – from you all.”

They’re silent during the time it takes them to eat their soup; him trying to focus on her words but still finding his mind drifting to more physical things, and her crossing her legs while barely tensing them just to try and get some stimulation.

She’s flustered, he can see that, but he’s sure it’s from the confession she just made.

“How ‘bout another drink?” he grabs the bottle and [Y/N] jumps up to get him a new glass, following orders.

He’s another half glass in by the time she gets the guts to say, “For the record, I’m not devout.”

At her words, he remains silent and she doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. He could turn her into Miranda for that – clue her in that one of her creations isn’t praying to her every day. She’d wondered about the others – how the Lords took to Miranda’s demands and regulations.

“Really now?” he finally replies.

“Figure I’ve got a target on my back anyway. What’s the point in keeping it from you?”

He quirks a brow at her. “And what’s your plan if I tell her that?”

She shrugs. “I’m sure it won’t make much difference in the long run.”

The hollow look in her eyes is telling.

He leans back, finishes off his drink. “Noted, dollface.”

She deadpans at him, ignoring the nickname. “You’re not gonna scurry off and tell her any of that?”

“Why? Should I?”

“I mean, no.”

“Well, then?” he laughs at the stunned look on her face. “Look, I want the bitch dead more than anyone else. We just gotta play the game for now. And her finding out about those of us that aren’t devoted to her? Not a good game plan.” She wants to respond, but she looks shocked. “Ah, what, surprised?”

“You…want to kill…Miranda?”

“Yeah,” he says it so nonchalant, like it’s nothing.

It’s subtle, but she lifts her glass and clinks it with his in a sort of toast.

So, they’re in agreement then?

#karl heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x oc #heisenberg x reader

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small-teacup · 3 years

Text

Consequences, Consequences...Oh, and Kisses

Notes: *smacks this in your face* H e l l o t h e r e. I have returned, but this time with a tiktok-inspired fic because my creativity has been failing me recently-

Ships: Intrulogical

Pov: Logan and Remus

TW: Threats of destruction (i think-), mention of a broken leg, word “alcoholic”, gripping someone by the collar, kissing, swearing, mention of dick and body horror, Sympathetic Remus, Dark!Logan

Let me know if I missed any, please! :D

Word Count: 1594

Logic is one of the most powerful forces in the Mindscape. The foundation that everything anyone has ever known is built upon, the very thing that keeps the world in order. But it could also undo what its done, and throw the world into chaos. Of course, nobody really thought it would actually happen. So they cast the thought aside.

With that thought, they also pushed Logic aside. It was something he could never get his head around, how he was so...important and essential yet nobody dared to listen. Nobody respected him. Nobody cared for him. Nobody wanted him.

They wanted to live in ignorance, blind to reality. Live cooped up in their own lives, everything they didn’t want to hear. They liked to block out facts and truth. Everything was fine to them. At least, that’s what they wanted to believe. In their desperate need to hide from the imperfections of the world, they became deaf to the force that helped them all this way. The thing that they based their little realms off of.

Not only that, but he was a person. He was alive. He wanted to be cared for, to be loved, to be heard. But that would never happen. Not if he let things go on like this.

So he decided to change.

-------

Logan sighed as he examined his axe, something he would destroy this imaginary world with. He knew it would hurt Thomas, maybe even kill him, but it wouldn’t matter. What was the use? What was the use of living if you can’t live properly? What was the use of existence if you’re just stuck inside of your own bubble, mindlessly progressing through life with no direction? With no logic?

If this was the only time he would be heard or seen, so be it. With a quick motion, he slung the weapon into a holder on his back. He looked around his astrology-themed room for the last time. He remembered when he was important to the others. When they noticed him. When they loved him. The reminder of such a time sat upon his desk in the form of a group picture. It was before the Accepting Anxiety episodes, where Virgil was still in his old jacket. It was also a time where he remembered smiling. He couldn’t recall the last time he really felt happy...except for a special day.

Two weeks after Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, he was visited by none other than the Duke. It was unexpected, of course, but what was more peculiar was what he did. He’d sat down and congratulated Logan, telling about how impressed he was. He complimented him every second with a grin on his face that seemed more kind and loving than mischievous. It’d taken Logan by surprise, but it made him feel...weird. It was like his heart fluttered when the other spoke, even more so when Remus had reached and caressed his face at the end of his speech. He remembered his cheeks heating up and turning a bright red. Their faces had gotten closer…and closer…

And they kissed. It wasn’t something he ever thought himself doing, but there he was, kissing Remus in his room. He was awkward while Remus seemed like he’d done this a thousand times (which he probably had). He’d grabbed Remus’ sash tightly while the other wrapped his arms around Logan. Time seemed to slow down, the only thing that mattered was to keep the kiss going and never separate. Unfortunately, oxygen existed, so they had to pull apart anyways. He leaned forward slightly for another kiss, so did Remus. It was interrupted with Remus’ shirt being tugged. He was being summoned…

He’d said a quick good-bye to Logan before sinking out. He didn’t come back after that.

He missed it oh-so-dearly...and he feared he’d never experience it again. But he’d realized soon enough that Remus probably hadn’t meant it. Maybe Logan was just someone to tease and play with to him. That’s what everyone thought he was: just a toy they could toss away without a care.

That would change. After today, everything would change and he would make sure of it. He left his room and closed the door, his long coat waving behind him as he moved. It was 3 am, so nobody would be awake to know what would happen nor to stop it.

Or so he thought.

-------

Remus was messing around, as usual, in his room at ungodly hours. He’d gotten bored of sleeping, so he decided to write and draw. His writings were about random thoughts he had while his drawings consisted of dicks and body horror. In his lonesome yet terrifying tower at his side of the Imagination, he didn’t expect the sounds of footsteps outside the window or the educated mutterings of plans. He blinked as he peered through his window, squinting to see who was awake at this time. His eyes widened when he saw it was Logan. He lifted the window a bit, wanting to listen in on what he was going on about.

“...then when it’s destroyed, the most probable thing would be that the Mindscape starts falling apart, or it all disintegrates at once. I wonder what would happen with Thomas..”

Remus blinked a few times, slowly processing what he’d heard. The Mindscape falling apart? How...What would-

Oh. OH. LOGAN WAS TRYING TO DESTROY THE MINDSCAPE??!

That couldn’t be right. He wouldn’t ACTUALLY do that, would he?

Right now, it seemed he really would, considering he was heading toward the core of the Imagination. If everyone was gonna die, he wouldn’t be able to kiss Logan again! You know what, fuck it.

He jumped out the window and landed roughly on the ground, following Logan and sneaking up behind him. He suddenly grabbed Logan by his coat.

“Lo-”

He was cut off by Logan turning around and grabbing him by the collar before he even realized what was happening. His mouth hung open in surprise, and maybe a little bit of arousal at how good Logan looked. Now that he’s got the other’s attention, he didn’t know what else to do other than stare. He didn’t think this through, as with every other half-baked plan he’s ever put into action. They stood there for a few awkwardly silent moments, Logan’s grip softening slightly.

Remus suddenly blurted out, “One last kiss!”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, “Wha-”

“I love you like an alcoholic…”

“One last kiss?” The logical side asked, tilting his head in confusion and curiosity.

“I love you like a statuette.”

“One last kiss..” They said in unison, Remus smiling upon the unexpected exchange.

Until he realized something wet on his face. He pulled away in surprise, realizing Remus was...crying?

“I need you like I need a broken leg,” Remus finished, grinning, albeit a bit nervously as Logan frowned at him. He slowly let go of Remus, seeming suspicious.

The Duke suddenly rushed forward and kissed Logan, wrapping his arms around the other just how he did before. The only unexpectancy this time was Logan’s willingness to kiss back, a bit rougher than the last time he’d done it. He stumbled back a bit, his hand finding its way to Remus’ hip while the other buried itself in the creative side’s hair. Logan was happier than ever in that moment, smiling as he kept kissing.

“Remus?” He asked, unsure of why the other was crying or how to fix it.

“You really gonna destroy the Mindscape?”

“...What?”

“I heard ya muttering about breaking the core of the Imagination and...and...I just- I don’t get it. I thought you were doin’ alright but I guess not-? Why are you even- wh… I don’t get it..” Remus said through hiccups as he seemed to be crying harder.

Logan couldn’t help but crack up at the end. “Everyone pushes me aside. Sometimes, I don’t think they can see me at all. I’m metaphorically invisible. I don’t care if they don’t notice me after we all die, I just hope they learn what they’ve done wrong. Think of it as a punishment of sorts,” He explained, a bit too nonchalantly.

“Am I part of that group? Cause like- if I am, I’m...sorry. I’m sorry. Look- I- okay...I love you, mkay? If everyone else is an asshole to you, then..then- I’ll beat em up for you.”

Logan blinked in surprise, his eyes widening slightly as he searched for any sign of dishonesty. There were none.

He continued, “D’you need help? I’m not that...emotional of a guy, but I can try to help. Besides, if we’re all dead, how am I supposed to seduce you then??”

-------

“That was...an odd way of telling me you love me and you don’t want me to destroy the Mindscape.”

“I said I wasn’t an emotional guy! Plus, I didn’t know how else to say it.”

“Well,” Logan started, wiping away some of Remus’ tears with his thumb. “Neither am I. But I do return romantic feelings for you.”

Remus smiled and hugged the other side. He muttered, “Does that mean you’re still gonna...kill everyone?”

“...I think I’ve changed my mind.”

Logan is one of the most powerful sides in the Mindscape. But despite his power, he craves affection like every other side. He’s still human.

[End]

Thankfully, his boyfriend Remus provides that for him. And he happily returns the affection.

Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

Maybe he can be heard.

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

Rewatching Sanders Sides...again because...yes. But I got to the first SvS, Selfishness vs. Selflessness the courtroom episode. And with new context and (unfortunately because I live in the U.S.) seeing more debates lately I noticed something interesting when Virgil is called as a witness. Here’s a transcript so you know what specifically I'm talking about:

"Is it true that you once said that: 'Weddings are outdated overly expensive pageantry.'?" Janus

"Yeah well I also once swore to Thomas that the drink he left in the other room for ten seconds was definitely poisoned and if he drank it he would die. I'm not exactly a beacon of truth." Virgil

"So you've changed your mind then." Janus

"Next question." Virgil

"Very well. As Thomas' anxiety do you have any relevant information about his norepinephrine levels in regards to these two conflicting commitments?" Janus

"I think it's ridiculous that anyone is entertaining any of this. Guys he's a liar! You literally know him as Deceit!" Virgil

"Glass houses Virgil. You yourself said that you are not a beacon of truth." Janus

"Yeah because I'm wrong a lot." Virgil

"Oh! So you've never been reluctant to share anything with the group then?" Janus

"Don't." Virgil

"What? I just meant your name." Janus

"Don't!" Virgil

"Maybe that's why it's so easy for you to recognize me for what I am. Like I said before: it takes a liar to know a liar." Janus

Now whenever this came out I was not a part of the fandom. I came in very shortly before the first Asides was released. So binge watching the first time I wasn’t sure what this meant and then after watching DWIT I thought was referring to the fact that Virgil's a Dark side. Or used to be. And then I thought with a few others in the fandom that maybe he had lied about his name. And yes the former is probably true as it was foreshadowing while the latter is certainly less likely. But rewatching this it seems like neither of them were talking about the past. They were talking about right then and Janus was using past references to dig at Virgil further.

Deflection is a common debate tactic used when the debator in question doesn't know or doesn't want to answer a question. So look at the dialog and don't think about what Virgil did say, but rather what he didn't.

When faced with what he said in the past he didn't really say what his stance was. He just brought up another scenario and then when Janus tried to steer it back he moved on which Janus allowed. The next time when asked about Thomas' norepinephrine levels (blood pressure, basically asking him how much anxiety he was feeling over the conflicting interests) Virgil again deflects, bringing up Janus' reputation as the deceitful side and when being asked about being reluctant to share things with the group he just gets defensive and never ends up answering the question.

Not the most flattering picture but look at how dark Virgil's eyeshadow is. He's clearly worked up and anxious over this and could very easily say what his stance is on the issue, so why doesn’t he?

What did we learn previously about omitting information for you or someone else's benefit? That they are lies of omission in Can Lying Be Good?. Virgil is purposefully trying to stay neutral and/or against Janus because of his bias towards him. We don't really know his opinion on the matter even after Redux because he refuses to give Janus anything he can work with. But by bringing up these points that Virgil has been reluctant to share his name and possibly other info while Thomas is observing, he’s using a subtle manipulation tactic to plant a hint of a seed of doubt towards Virgil, which I'm wondering whether it was reinforced slightly when Virgil finally said he was a dark side, even if in the first Asides Thomas tried to make it clear they were okay.

By playing to Virgil's stubbornness and relying on the fact that he hated him, Janus was trying to rile him from the very beginning when he said "You never have anything useful to say anyway." to sway the case in his favor. By trying to get Thomas to see that he isn't the only side who has lied to him Janus was attempting to win Thomas over in that moment on doubt alone, however subtle or not he ended up being. Honestly this scene was very well done in its subtext and I'm happy I watched it again and caught onto it. Or maybe none of this meant anything and I'm just rambling, but it's still fun to think about.

I'm curious as to how this will play in the future as Virgil turns his back more and more on Patton especially after Patton seems like he's near fully accepted Janus, someone Virgil despises. As Thomas accepts Janus a bit more and defends him how much progress with Virgil will he end up backtracking? Like a one step forward two steps back kind of deal. Maybe even something we'll witness in the season finale.

I redid this because the previous post wouldn’t keep the pic in the place I put it. Tumblr stop!

#sanders sides #sanders sides theories #false speaks #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #janus sanders

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Shackles 9: I’m sorry

[Warning: Blood and Extreme harm] [part 8]

“Let her go!” The cries of a young boy echoed, struggling against his captors as he and his sister were dragged through sickening white halls. All attempts to reach out for her failed as he watched Jasmine get tossed into a room. Sobek continued walking his way however, guiding the men to a separate correctional room. Rajah did his best to struggle but his weak body was thrown harshly into a cold metal chair; the exit door shut tightly with him and Sobek inside. Rajah didn’t even have a chance to move before the feel of mangled fingers pressed against his neck as he was strapped down.

“I told you to keep her under control. Now look at what you’re making me do? Should’ve known better. A beast can’t control another beast.”

“Don’t…hurt her.” He gasped. Sobek finally released his hold. Rajah gasped and coughed for air while the man walked away to a tray of various tools. The light in the room went out except for the wall in front of him, which acted like a screen.

“ Oh I’m not going to hurt her. Not physically with my hands anyways. The guards she hurt might have a thing to say to her but we both know that’ll solve nothing.” Sobek drew up a syringe. “You and I, however, we’re gonna fix you right up and then see how sister dearest acts. Hopefully she’ll become more agreeable. If not…well, it’s a big siblings job to look after the little one.”

Rajah began to panic. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake his restraints as the scientist approached, injecting him in the neck.

“Let’s make you a model big brother…”

xxxx

Across the world, helping hands were reaching out. Blake ran across rooftops to the port in a desperate attempt to get on a leaving ship before it was too late. Out of practice, she took a misstep and nearly lost her balance. Fortunately friends followed closely behind her. Blake felt two hands rebalance her as she continued forward. “Thank you.”

Ilia nodded, “Don’t mention it.”

Blake looked left. Yang didn’t say anything. All she gave was a small nod. It wasn’t much but it made Blake happy. “I’ll make it up to both of you later.”

“Oh that’s a given. Let’s focus on what’s important right now. That ship is already leaving port and that Jacquelyn lady already has a head start. Missing this ship could be bad.”

“So we won’t miss it.” Yang said with conviction. Her gauntlets propelled herself forward and launched herself in the air ahead of others. Yang turned around midair and reached out. “Well!?”

She didn’t even have to say it. Blake grabbed Ilia’s hand then threw Gamble Shroud. Yang grabbed the gun and yanked them so hard they flew by her. Still holding on, Yang felt Blake pull her. She timed a shotgun blast with the tension of the pull to soar ahead as far as possible; yanking both girls again. This rendition of their favorite move cut out a lot of time. It only took a few minutes before all three reached the point of free falling over the boat. Yang lets go of the gun so Blake can anchor to the boat. Ilia took the first opportunity to escape that jarring movement she got, running down the taut ribbon to the ship and pulling it to bring Blake down from air.

Yang realized she might be in a bit of a situation and so did Blake. Tucking and rolling might be pushing her luck when it comes to movement options while she’s expecting. “Uhh Blake?”

“I got you.” Blake didn’t want to jossle her anymore than necessary. She jumped up and caught Yang safely before the blonde could fall any faster. “You okay?”

“Put me down the moment we land!”

Blake didn’t bother arguing. She let go as soon as she touched the floor and watched Yang speed over to the side of the boat to lean over. Thankfully Yang held back whatever tried to come up and everyone was spared the sounds of her puking.

“Yang?”

“Jaune was right. Motion sickness is a big deal. Ugh…”

“Don’t you mean, Vomit Boy?”

“I’ll never call him that again. Too cruel.” Yang walked back over to Ilia and Blake to sit against a wall. “Please tell me this was the right boat? I don’t wanna do that again.”

“Of course it is. It’s the one always going back and forth to Vacou. Sun and I might as well live on this ship.” Ilia pulled out her scroll. “We’ll see port a little after daybreak, so we should all rest and be prepared. I’m going to speak to the captain so nobody thinks we’re a bunch of stowaways.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” A voice called from the front of the boat. The trio looked and gasped to see Jacquelyn walking towards them. “Gunshots aren’t the quietest thing in the world. Also one of you literally lights up, so there’s that. I thought you would’ve tagged out by now.

“And I thought you would’ve been long gone by now.”

Jacquelyn rested on the railings to watch the waves. “If it were up to me I’d be there already, but I don’t control boat schedules now do I? Good thing. Not entirely sure what I’m walking into. So yeah, thanks.” Jacquelyn turned to Ilia. “Hey. You’re the chameleon right? Ilia, was it?”

Eyes widened instantly. “Adam spoke of me?”

“When it was relevant, but yeah. Said that you’re pretty capable at what you do. Glad you’re tagging along.”

“Wish I could say the same. I have lots of questions and I have a feeling the answers are with you.” Ilia crossed her arms. Being out of the loop was a pain in the ass she couldn’t stand.

“As much as I love stories, now isn’t the best time. However…” her attention turned to Blake. “I think the two of us might need one. A brief, but important one. Alone.”

Blake looked around. “It will just be a moment you two.”

“Sigh…fine.”

“Take your time.” Yang added.

Jacquelyn took Blake by the hand to lead her to the front. “I could tell from a glance that you’re troubled. Spit it out.”

“…I’ve learned about what we’re dealing with. Ilia told me what we might face and why. Back in the desert I told you my beliefs run to my core.”

“Don’t tell me that’s changed?”

“I’m telling you sorry. Apparently my efforts as High Leader haven't even scratched the surface. I thought things were progressing steadily but we’re heading to a place that’s about to prove everything is still the same. Spite is alive and thriving.”

“Hehe, and? We both know you were aware of that. So why don’t you come out and just ask-”

“How?” Blake said, balling her fist. “If what you claim is true, then how do you do it? How are you changing someone who’s that spiteful when I can’t reach people like him at all? I’m not sure if I’m reaching anyone right now. I feel…”

“Stupid? You’re not. Naive? I’d say more optimistic.” Jacquelyn put her hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Impatience, that’s what’s got you. Don’t look at me for guidelines because frankly I’m selfish and never bothered looking at the bigger picture when it comes to humanity. You’re different. You know what path you want to take but hesitate to get pushy with it, compromising without realizing it. A flexible leader is good but if you are certain about the way you want things then Blake Belladonna, don’t you dare compromise.”

Blake felt Jacquelyn’s grip tighten. The woman’s eyes went cold and Blake knew her next words would be the most important.

“We’re heading to a place that can only be hell. Blake, you’ll find the real answer to all your questions soon enough. Don’t run from it.”

The meaning to those words reached her, yet Blake knew she’d only truly grasp it in the moment. “Understood.”

“Good. I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I should probably rest but I’m sure it’s in my best interest to give your friend at least a little bit of info.”

“I can handle that.”

“No, worry about Yang instead. I want all of us at least a little bit at peace.” Ilia walked back over to the other two. “Changed my mind. Story time, squirt.” She took Ilia’s hand.

“Hey!”

“Don’t fight it. I’m too tired for resistance. Yang?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Uhh thanks, I guess.”

Yang watched them leave and Blake came back seconds later to sit next to her. The two sat quietly, the sound of waves crashing on one another. “I won’t pretend I’m suddenly okay with all of this. But…I want us to be okay. So I’ll put in the leg work.”

“Heh. Yang, you’re always okay with me. Leg work or not, following me is your choice. Don’t think you owe me anything.”

“Stop being a dummy. I swear you’ve always been like this. How many people gotta say it? You don’t choose what your friends do.”

“Then you should choose to be okay with me.”

Blake looked at Yang’s unblinking face with a smile. Deep down, the bruiser's heart felt as if a weight was lifted. A sense of overwhelming joy couldn’t be contained. “So, we’re okay then.” Yang lifted her fist. “Partners forever.”

Blake bumped her fist. “Forever.”

Frayed bonds may be fragile, but as long as strings remain linked, mending was an outcome. Blake and Yang were living proof, and with a little luck…so would Adam. Life wasn’t always a fairytale unfortunately. One bond may have strengthened tonight, but it wasn’t the only one being tested. There was another, fraying from unseen eyes; until it snapped.

xxxxx

Hours passed underground. Jasmine couldn’t tell when the beatings stopped or started anymore. Every single nerve had been screaming, her ears ringing. The sensitivity drug she had been injected with during her first round of correction never wore off, so the second dose they gave only fueled the anguish. The lights of the labs have prevented her from seeing. Not that she wanted to look at anyone or herself for that matter. All she could tell was she was moving. What was bright became dark rhythmically. Jasmine’s vision, as blurry as it was, made fuzzy images that could only be people. One blob was raised higher than the rest. Had to be Adam. Strange, it wasn’t moving like the rest. It didn’t move at all. However, Jasmine could faintly make out yelling. “Get up!” She didn’t know if it was for her but it chilled her all the same. Loud creaking accompanied moments after. Jasmine suddenly felt weightless until a pulse of pain shot through her back; followed by more creaking and a loud metal thunk.

Jasmine did her best to move. It took time, a lot of it, but she eventually got to her knees. The lack of light helped her vision sort itself out; as well as slightly dwindled her senses. Enough to think without too much pain. “Why hurt me just throw me behind bars?” An attempt to stand only led back to her face deep in dirt. “O...ow”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this tired.”

Jasmine’s body stiffened. She turned her head towards the inside of the cell with all her strength. Deep in the shadows reeked blood, but beyond that… “Rajah? Rajah is that you?” There was no mistaking that scent. “Rajah! You’re here. I’m so hap-h..happ…” her heart nearly stopped. Every fiber of her felt cold. Jasmine’s very soul trembled while her eyes remained fixed on Rajah as he got closer. His eyes looked glassed over. And his ears…they weren’t on his head, but mangled tightly in his fist.

“Need help? I can sit you up.” He approached closer.

“Ra..Ra…”

“What’s wrong? Throat dry? Oh…this?” He dropped his ears on the floor, ignoring them and the fresh blood that still leaked down his face and soaked his hair. “No big deal.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Not as much as you. Honestly I feel a lot better. Hehe, weird right?” He smiled, chuckling ever so slightly. “He won’t hurt me anymore. Sobek won’t hurt you either. I promise.”

She wanted to run. Jasmine didn’t know where but she wanted to run as fast as possible, but all her legs did was shake as Rajah kept getting closer with his smile on full display. Tears welled up, her ears folding down. “Pl..Stop it.” What did Sobek do to her brother? “Rajah you’re scaring me. You’re- ah!” His hands reached her throat faster than she could blink. Jasmine gasped as her brother pinned her onto her back and began to squeeze. His vacant eyes stared deep into her own terror filled and weeping ones, kicking frantically underneath him the whole time.

“Aww it’s okay. Sobek’s not gonna hurt us anymore! You see I figured it out! The pain stops when there’s nothing to look at. Hahaha! Sobek wasn’t mad at me. Just my ears! Once I ripped them,he wasn’t angry anymore Jasmine! He said he’d never be angry at me again.” Though vacant and laughing, Rajah’s own tears started falling. “He finally stopped hurting me…! And when you stop kicking, you won’t hurt me either. You’ll wake up like me and be left alone, so listen to your big brother okay? Okay!?” Clenched teeth gritted against one another, drooling with spit and blood. Rajah wasn’t smiling anymore. “Why couldn’t you listen to me?” His bloodied hands dug in.

Jasmine’s nails broke the skin of his wrists. Her lungs burned and vision became blurry again, but she could hear him perfectly. The laughter, the ragged breathing as hearts raced. Her head spun but all her mind could think of was his words. Why didn’t she listen? The thought turned into wondering why this happened? The beatings, torture, seclusion; it wasn’t his fault. Rajah didn’t deserve this. It was all her. Why couldn’t it just be her? The caring eyes she loved, they weren’t staring back. Only her reflection looked back, and Jasmine couldn’t stomach the sight. Narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, Jasmine shut her eyes and let a guttural noise of pain and immense rage while the world as she knew it faded into dark.

“I’m sorry…”

#rwby #rwby au #adam taurus #jacquelyn frost #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #ilia amitola #rwby shackles

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