#Tried new things and that's what matters... yay...?

[navybrat817]

Shut Me Up

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: You rant after a long day and want Steve to shut you up.

Word Count: Over 1.3k

Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving discussed), implied sex, dirty talk, swearing, slight feels, possessive behavior, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Yeah, I don't know where this came from. Yay for Steve Rogers! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Fuck this day!” You flopped down on the bed with a sigh and pointed at Steve who stood by the closet with a small smirk on his face. “And don’t you dare give me that ‘language’ bullshit. I know what kind of mouth you have on you.”

I said “language” one time, and it’ll haunt me forever.

Steve chuckled and put his hands up in surrender. When you were in this kind of mood there was no arguing with you. Well, people could try to argue with you, but chances were they’d lose spectacularly. It impressed Bucky and Sam, and it may have scared them, too. “Wasn’t going to, sweetheart.”

Your gaze softened before anger took over your beautiful features again. “Damn right, you aren’t,” you muttered, slowly exhaling as you looked at the ceiling. “But, seriously, fuck this day.”

“Tell me about it,” he urged, shutting the closet door and leaning against it so he could keep his eyes on you. He didn’t go to the bed just yet, knowing you’d motion him over or give him a sign once you wanted him there. He also knew that whatever you had to say, you didn’t want his advice. Sometimes you needed to vent, and he was more than happy to listen. “Please?”

You sighed. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Steve listened as you launched into a tirade about the frustrations you dealt with at work today, such as fixing errors made by people in higher positions, changes to a policy that would affect your day-to-day that no one knew about in advance, and more. He tried his best not to smile when you realized how loud your voice had gotten during your rant or how you threw your hands up when something in particular got under your skin. You were so passionate, so raw, and he loved that about you. 

He also did his best not to get angry on your behalf, but his jaw clenched when you mentioned a rude coworker. You could defend yourself, but it was in his nature to stand up for anyone wronged, especially his girl. If there was any kind of battle you needed to fight, he wanted to fight beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he cut in. “You deserve better.” 

The words weren’t to placate you. He was sorry he couldn’t force your company to do better, and you did deserve better with all the work you put in. At the very least he needed to see if there were better jobs out there for you if things didn’t improve or somehow convince you to quit.

“Thanks,” you whispered before you continued.

He didn’t interrupt again, but he occasionally hummed or grunted so you knew he was paying attention to every word, and he was. Whenever you talked, he listened. It would always be that way. 

But he wasn’t prepared for what you said next.

“I’m done,” you exhaled once your rant was over. “Now shut me up.”

“What?” he asked, his brows furrowing when you stretched out more on your back.

“I’m tired of talking and I’m tired of listening to myself rant,” you replied, hanging your head off the edge of the bed. “So fuck my throat and shut me up.”

Steve’s ocean eyes widened and he was lucky he didn’t break the door when he pushed himself off of it. “As much as I want your mouth around my cock, I should be taking care of you.” The bulge in his pants said he clearly wanted it, but you were the one who had a rough day, not him.

You giggled. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be going down on me before the day is over and you’ll give me at least two orgasms before you fuck me,” you said as a matter of fact, color creeping into his cheeks. Bold and unfiltered. He appreciated that. “And you’ll cuddle with me after.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “You want to cuddle?”

You nodded slightly and whispered, “Yes.” At the end of the day, what you wanted was for someone to love and hold you, to let you know they’d be by your side. 

“All the cuddles you want,” he promised because he wanted to hold you, too.

“Good,” you said, pointing at your mouth. “Now shut me the fuck up.”

His fingers curled as he took slow strides toward the bed. “You giving me orders?” he asked, a hint of a growl in his voice.

“I am, and I expect you to obey them, Captain,” you said, letting your mouth fall open. It was a beautiful sight.

“Fuck,” he hissed, unbuttoning his pants. It was almost unfair how quickly you could make him hard. A single look, a word, and he was ready for you. He couldn’t complain when he turned you on just as easily. He knew you soaked your underwear just from the thought of his dick sliding across your tongue.

“Language,” you teased in a sing-song voice. 

He shoved his pants and underwear down and heard the way your heart sped up when he stroked himself. “Thought you wanted me to shut you up.”

“Oh, I do. Shut me up. Make me choke on you, Stevie,” you said, moaning when the tip slid in. 

“You gonna take me, sweetheart?” he rasped, resting a hand on your throat. “Gonna feel me here when I come?” 

You moaned, taking him in deeper. With your head upside down he wanted to make sure you could still breathe. And, fuck, did your mouth feel like heaven. 

“You’re gonna sit on my face and shut me up, too,” he groaned, sliding his hand to your breast and toying with your nipple through the top, his thrusts shallow at first. “But I’m writing my name with my tongue ‘cause it’s my cunt, sweetheart. Mine to worship and fuck. It’s mine.”

Your whine vibrated around the length of him. People thought he was America’s golden boy with a polite mouth, but you knew better. You loved how dirty he was with you. And, yes, he was a little possessive. So were you. 

“That’s it. Don’t talk, don’t even think about work,” he ordered, his hips moving faster. You sputtered only once, but quickly adjusted like you always did. “Just suck my cock like a good girl and I’ll eat my pussy so good you’ll cry for me.”

You’d cry, beg, ride his face like your life depended on it and you’d scream his name when you came. And you’d swallow down every drop when he spilled down your throat. Give and take. 

He moaned when you reached back to cradle his balls and gently squeezed. You were so good to him, knew exactly what he liked, what got him off. “Fuck, sweetheart, do that again,” he demanded, his toes curling. “Fuck, I’m-”

He couldn’t finish his warning when you squeezed once more, triggering his orgasm. He moaned your name and coated your throat with his release with a few more thrusts. Once he finished, his head still spinning, he quickly pulled out so you could breathe. Both of you panted as he checked on you through the fog of his orgasm. You didn’t lift your head just yet, but you locked eyes with him and smiled a devastatingly beautiful smile.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek. “Better?”

You finally lifted your head and nodded. Between the venting and having your throat fucked, you seemed in better spirits. And instead of speaking, you pointed to an empty spot on the bed. It was his turn to get you off.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirked.

And before you shut up for good, you’d softly thank him again for everything.

And in the quiet of the night, he’d thank you, too.

I need to give Steve more love, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[computerized]

Ooooh, that smarts! I split my head where my hair parts!

[rainbowsmagicandshit]

Arthur repeals the magic ban! Yay! Druids, Catha, and all others come to Camelot to live peacefully under the reign of the Once And Future King! Yay! The Golden Age is starting! Yay! Merlin still hasn’t told Arthur about magic! …He’s just waiting for the right time. Things have just happened so fast and he just doesn’t know how to bring it all up.

Well, as Arthur and the rest of Camelot get more comfortable with magic, Arthur makes a decision. He’s tried teaching Merlin every type of weapon out there, and he’s hopeless with every one of them. But, Merlin still insists on coming with him on dangerous quests. So, Arthur decides to have Merlin try his hand at magic so he has some sort of self defense.

Merlin: ...You want me to what?

Arthur: I know! I know, Merlin! Magic can be dangerous! But I found a wonderful teacher for you. Say hello, Wallace.

Wallace: Hello

Arthur: He's perfectly trustworthy! And, it'll all be perfectly safe!

Merlin: Arthur, there's something you need to know. About me and magic--

Arthur: I know what you're going to say, Merlin, and--

Merlin: I really don't think you know--

Arthur: --please, for me, just try this. I know you don't really like magic. But please, Merlin. And, you know, even if you're crap at it--which you likely are like everything else--you could probably at least get your eyes to do the gold thing. That'll probably scare off some people from hurting you. Like a rattle snake.

Merlin: Arthur, really, you need to listen to me--

Arthur: I'll even do it with you!

Merlin: Arthur, really...Wait what?

Arthur: I'll do it with you! To show you how not dangerous it is! You have no reason to be scared of learning it, Merlin. It'll be easy.

Merlin: ...You're going to try to learn magic?

Arthur: Yes. How hard could it be. You're going to learn it.

Merlin, crossing his arms: Okay, then. I'd like to see this. Let's see you do magic, Once And Future Prat, Mr. Magic King

Arthur, smug at getting Merlin to agree: Good. Our first lesson starts now.

They both look to Wallace. Arthur happy, Merlin raising a judgmental eyebrow. Wallace starts with the history of magic and the theories behind using it. They don't get to the actually magic using part of the lesson day. Wallace does give them both some texts to study.

Their next lesson does get to the magic part.

Wallace: You want to really feel into the magic of the world around you. Feel the earth. Feel the connection you have to that earth. Feel the power that runs through it.

Merlin's enjoying it, letting the magic wash over him, and also peeking at Arthur who seems to be struggling with it. When asked, Merlin says he doesn't feel anything either. He wants to keep watching Arthur struggle.

Their next lesson, Wallace tries to teach them some basic spells. Lighting a candle. Moving a small object. Merlin laughs at all of Arthur's attempts.

Arthur: Well let's see you do better, Merlin!

Merlin just keeps laughing.

Their lessons keep getting interrupted by this or that. Merlin also has a very busy job. One would think that he'd have less work now that magic was legalized, but no. Now he just has more magic beasts roaming the lands, and people freaking out and attacking those magic beasts, leading to fights and stuff. He's always having to slip away to resolve the matter. He has gotten very good at calming dangerous magic beasts and relocating them. But, relocating takes longer than just killing, so he's still just as busy and gone just as much as he was when dealing with vengeful sorcerers.

Every single start of magic lesson:

Wallace: Did you do the homework I assigned?

Arthur, proud: Yes, I did. I did all the reading, but I did have some trouble with the spellwork.

Merlin, who was up all night settling a griffin family into a new nest on a tall mountain: Uh. No. Didn't have time.

Arthur: Merlin, this is your lesson!

Eventually, Merlin has his fill of watching Arthur struggling with magic, and decides that this time is better spent doing other things. So, during one of the lesson, when Wallace tells them to make the flower bloom, without looking up from the report he's going over, he waves his hand and his pot explodes with the force of plants that grow out of it instantly.

Wallace: ...

Arthur: ...

[oddballwriter]

if its alright, could i request some jealous ena? do you think both sides of her would handle jealousy differently?

Jealous Dream BBQ ENA headcanons

Warnings: our lovely polygon wife struggling with big feelings of jealousy and a bit of self doubt if you squint, Meanie getting into fights, the big sad but then comfort. If I missed anything please feel free to tell me.

Author’s Snip: yay more of our BBQ babygirl

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Oh, for sure she feels some sort of way.

People are literally so rude. You know? They were already rude and mean to ENA already but ever since you two became public about dating, it’s like there’s a whole new thing for them to tease and bully ENA about. Some people will just straight up flirt with you right in front of her like she’s not standing right next to you and talking to them.

Not to mention that people probably say stuff about your relationship to her right to her face about how she’s just a rebound or something. Someone said to her, “You know they’re just dating you because their ex got the big ring and they wanted to make them jealous, right? I heard all about it.”. Or that you felt so bad for her that you started dating her out of pity and will earn to heart to break up eventually. It’s awful.

And it really gets to her head sometimes. She knows deep down that it’s not true. You love her. You tell her so and show it in your own way. And you wouldn’t lie to her. She knows that you love her with all your heart and will be by her side despite what everyone says about her and the reputation that you may get when people find out you’re with her. You’re hers and she’s yours.

But again, sometimes it just gets to her

Her salesperson side is a little more subtle about it, but you can feel it a bit when she puts an emphasis on “my faithful partner in the market of love and affection” (her side’s way of saying you’re her s/o) and how her mitten of a hand takes yours when she notices the person you two are talking to seemingly eyeing you up.

It’s a bit awkward because that hand doesn’t have fingers, so it just kind of cups your hand, but you know that that’s her substitute for intertwining her fingers with yours on that hand and you subconsciously follow suit and hold her hand too

And even if someone does make a pass at you, she intervenes by stating “I’m afraid that we are derailing from the subject matter of our brief meeting.” and ignores the glare they give her or grins back at them letting them know that she knows damn well what they’re trying

Her meanie side… is not so subtle or polite. To put it mildly

She cuts straight to the point and straight through the bullshit like she always does and calls them out

“Hey, pal! Keep your eyes off! That’s my lucky score! Get your own at the bottom of the bargain bin!”

She’s willing to through hands and mittens with anyone and anything. She knows how to fight. She looks like that clawed hand can give a good scratch and the mitten can give a good sucker punch. The megaphone can be used for more than just yelling into it.

No fr though she’d fight someone for you and probably has or almost has if it weren’t for you holding her back. Though she has just popped her arms off and tried to fight by kicking before.

…

…

She got her ass beat but she swears to this very day that she did more damage to the other guy

She does also repeat and reinstate the fact that you’re hers to you.

IE “You’re MY little heart pest!”

She never gets too mad at you though. She just gets very passionate about you and making sure that you let her know that you’re hers and that you have no interest in how the other person was acting towards you. But in never gets to anything actually harsh or abusive, and you know that.

That’s just how she talks and is. That’s literally the whole main component of that side of her.

But in terms of warding people off, she has a very “bark and maybe even bite” approach

After these cases, her salesperson side comes in and apologizes. Mainly to you though. She’ll give the person the most customer service ass apologies as she walks away with you, but with you she’ll have a more heartfelt one about “acting unprofessional and hostile in front of such a respected and valued person of my personal interest”

ENA will never really talk about her feelings of jealousy to you as to not bother or burden you with it even if you’re offering to listen to her and help her feel relieved of them if you can tell that somethings weighing her down.

Her salesperson side denies it entirely and her meanie said calls it stupid and idiotic. It’s honestly like pulling teeth

But you honest to GØD have some sort of spell over her that makes her give in after a few good tries and a private enough area away from prying eyes

It’s always her pale side that talks during there’s moments, which makes sense. You love the salesperson side and all the good joy and positivity it brings. But you know that this side of her feels all the intense things.

She’s not yelling, throwing insults, or sarcastic anymore. Her voice is much quieter, almost soft and fragile. Almost like she’s about to cry. And she hangs her head like it’s too heavy for the pull of her body to hold it up properly.

She doesn’t say much. She just asks “You do like me, right? They’re all lying to me again, right?”

You don’t really have to say much either. No big flowery and loud profession of love and devotion. You just need to have her look at you and tell her that you do love her and that everyone else can go eat smoke. She’ll know that you mean it just by the look in your eyes. She knows you just as much as you know her and can tell when you’re lying. And the fact that she knows and feels deep down inside that you’re telling the truth makes her feel better.

After that she goes back to her regular self, either meanie says some thing about “gross softie feelings” or her salesperson side comes back in and displays that big ol grin that you love so much

People can get to her. But you basically live inside of the coding of her heart and soul

[axolotl4days]

Oh my god im so sorry it took so long I got so distracted

Yandere! Royal Family x Neglected Reader

The Reborn Royal Part 2

Summary: After being reborn once more y/n expects everything to be the same as always. However this time around, their family is going to be the ones changing things.

Tw: violence, abuse, neglect. Yandere behavior(all platonic), descriptions of death, mentions of suicide and self-harm.

Before anything continues, im gonna write down the names of the characters for reference.

Queen Charlotte and King Vincent somewhere in their 30s

Oldest and heir to the throne: Prince Edward, roughly 13

Next is: Prince James, roughly 11

Next is: Princess Eleanor, roughly 9

Then last, baby y/n who's... just been born.

The ages are just rough estimates, the numbers themselves, dont matter, just the older sibling dynamic and that they'd be adults while y/n would be a kid/teenager (yay angst)

Alright! On with the fic!!!

Part 2: No specific pov just yet

The youngest child in the Royal family has just been born, the King and Queen have ordered the staff to give them some alone time for the whole family.

"Its them... it's really them" Queen Charlotte says, holding the new baby y/n

"They're so small. Are babies always this small?" Eleanor asks

"That usually depends on the baby but... gods.. they really are small" King Vincent replies

The siblings watch as the little baby starts to fall asleep, Edward tries to reach out to hold little y/n but the poor thing flinches at the contact. Edward and James recoil in horror. All of the visions they've seen over the past few months of watching their future selves hurt future y/n so much. And now. Now that they're seeing, the real y/n in front of them for the first time. They have never been more horrified. How could they ever hurt them. Hurt you. No one should ever go through that sort of pain. They can't let it happen again.

Eleanor watches as the boys shake from witnessing the baby flinch, and she doesn't understand. Your only a baby.

"Mom? Is the baby okay?" She asks

The queen stays silent for a moment but even she cannot hold back her worried tears, so the king steps in

"Darling, the baby is going through quite a lot right now, they have just been born after all. Everything is new and fresh to them, so it'll take awhile for them to adjust. Don't worry, we'll make sure theyre okay." He says, that last bit is mostly for himself, while the visions he saw didnt involve as much physical violence as the boys did, he saw how, isolated the little one was. How bad it got. And how badly it ended. No. No. He can't think of that now. What matters now is they have you. And they'll make sure your treated right

Your mother holds you close. She can't fathom the idea that she would ever give you away for someone else to take care of.

"Your highness? Here, you need rest, we can take the baby and-" "No." The Queen glares at thr maid who dare suggest such a thing.

"But your highness, you need time to recover"

"I will be fine. All I need right now is my family. I suggest you leave now before I decide to make you." The queen threatens

"Of course ma'am, sorry ma'am."

The maid leaves the room but the king steps to his queen's side, "the maid is right about you needing rest dear, dont worry, I'm here. No one can take our baby from us, isn't that right kids?" Your father turns to your siblings who nod in agreement.

Vincent manages to get the baby into the crib and as Charlotte finally sleeps, the children joining her, he stands guard and thinks about everything hes seen in these past few months.

King Vincent POV:

Though the visions mostly focused on you, and your pain thats not all they saw. The king specifically saw the things that led him down the path of neglectfullmess and why he was absent so often. Plans. War. Betrayals. The things that kept him away from the castle. The things that allowed your mistreatment to slide by without repercussions.

He'll have to take care of those. That way, he can be there for you. Make sure you're raised properly, with love and care from your family. Nothing will come between him and his family.

He pulls out a journal, after the nightmares began and he noticed the patterns between them he would take notes about each event, each person's perspective, and the outcome of each action. He doesn't know where these visions came from or what caused him, but what he does know is that according to the recent intel on other kingdoms it seems that one of the wars is brewing, he searches through his notes to confirm, checking the interactions between other kingdoms, seeing how the other him would talk about the other kingdoms.

If he wants to keep his family out of harm, he'll have to take care of the threat before it can even happen.

He walks over to the baby's crib, looking down at his youngest child sleeping comfortably.

He knows what he has to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi 👋 Author here, I am so sorry this took so long and that its so short, I like just finished finals so im just now getting around to working on this series again.

Now that its summer hopefully the next part will come out quicker, but I dont have a planned schedule cause I am horrible at planning things,

But!! I have notes and plot points for where I want this story to go/what I have planned

Please be patient with me, this is like, my 2nd time writing something like this on Tumblr and due to the, extreme, breaks in between parts the writing style may not be very consistent

But hopefully the next few parts will be written in a timely manner so they should be both more consistent, and longer!

Down below is my attempt at a taglist, there were a few people who wanted to know when the next part came out, feel free to let me know if you wanna be added, ive never made one of these before and its surprisingly hsrd

@randomlyappearingartist

@enchantingarcadecreation

@thatpersonnamedrook

@reni502 (idk why this one isn't doing the thing I tried)

[ashwhowrites]

Yay! Your requests are open!

So, Eddie and Reader have just gotten together, and they're riding high, honeymoon phase.

Then Steve opens his big mouth and admits he slept with Reader before he got together with Nancy, so it was a long time ago and just a drunken hook up, but he jokes that Reader seemed to have the time of her life and "you have some to live up to Eddie!"

So then Eddie decides (typical guy) that he's going to uppe Steve and asks how many times Steve made Reader cum and she says "three times - two times during foreplay and once during the sex" and Eddie says "Then be ready for at least four times, baby," and I leave up to you what he does but smut ensues

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️smut, rough sex, more smut

3? Give me 4

Eddie already knew he was a jealous person. He'd been jealous of people and things ever since he was young. He was jealous of the kids with new shoes and clean clothes. He was jealous of their toys and homes. Even as he got older he was jealous of how school seemed to be to people. He was jealous of the popular kids and their ride to college based on scholarships.

Then he got someone that other people would be jealous of. His beauty of a girl, Y/N. She was gorgeous and everyone knew that. For once Eddie didn't have to deal with jealousy, he caused it for others.

He and Y/N went at it teens in a horror film. It didn't matter where they were, they'd find somewhere to get busy. The relationship was fresh, so it was all love and lust. Two things Eddie loved that went together.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom," Y/N said, leaning over to peck Eddie's cheek. He watched in awe as she got up and walked off, his eyes didn't leave her until Steve spoke up.

"You're like a puppy dog for her, dude." Steve laughed, shoving a handful of fries in his mouth. Eddie turned to look at him, cringing as small amounts of fries spilled out of Steve's mouth.

"You'd understand if you were with her." Eddie snickered, taking a messy bite of his burger.

"I have been," Steve shrugged, not understanding the weight of his words. He was oblivious to the death stare Eddie gave him. "We hooked up way before I got with Nancy. We were drunk, and found each other."

"Excuse me?" Eddie glared, he could feel that burning jealousy enter his body again.

"Oh yeah, from what I can remember the girl had the time of her life. Looks like you have some to live up to, Eddie." Steve joked, reaching across the table to give Eddie a small punch in the shoulder.

Steve Harrington fucked his girlfriend, how the hell could he compete with that?

"Everything okay?" Y/N asked as she sat next to Eddie. She could feel how intense the tension was.

"Yes, these fries are delicious," Steve said, no idea of the tension.

"Eddie?" Y/N whispered as she squeezed his thigh

"Good" he choked out, but his mind was already spinning.

~

Y/N could sense something was wrong with Eddie as they silently drove to his trailer.

"Eddie, can you tell me what is wrong?" Y/N asked for another time, sighing as they walked into the empty and dark trailer.

Eddie flicked on the light and shrugged out of his jacket. Y/N tried not to stare as his toned arms came into view and the ink of his tattoos.

"You fucked King Steve?" Eddie snapped, his question barely was a question.

Y/N sighed and rubbed her face. Steve was an idiot.

"Eddie that was ages ago. Way before we even knew each other. Steve and I are just friends." She explained, she walked closer to him. When he didn't move she took it as a green light. She hooked her arms around his neck and placed her forehead on his. "Trust me, you make me feel way better than he ever did."

"How many times did King Steve make you cum?"

Y/N felt her breath get caught in her throat. Eddie's eyes were clouded with lust, making his eyes almost black. His voice was challenging Steve, and it made her thighs clench.

Eddie didn't appreciate her silence, his right hand roughly tugged her hair. She gasped as her head was yanked back, Eddie's hot breath fanning her neck.

"I asked," He started, his teeth lightly nipping at her skin, "you a question, baby." She tried to think of words, but she was so turned on that all she could think about was Eddie's pulsing cock being drilled into her.

"Three times," Y/N moaned, Eddie's mouth sucking harshly on her skin, "two-two times during foreplay," she shivered as Eddie's left hand trailed down her body. "And once during sex."

Eddie dropped his hand from her hair, moving both his hands to land on the back of her thighs. She squealed as he picked her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He placed her on the counter, smirking as he stood between her legs. He reached forward and rubbed her bottom lip.

"Then be ready for at least four times, baby," Eddie whispered.

Y/N went to clench her thighs again but squeezed Eddie since he stood between her legs.

"Oh? Is this turning you on?" he teased, his thumb yanked down her bottom lip. Watched as it snapped back into place, moving his hands down to her thighs.

"Touch me, please." She begged

She shivered as Eddie laughed, he leaned in so he was nose to nose. His lips were inches from hers as she stared with her mouth open.

"Don't worry, I'll touch you. I'll touch you everywhere until you are shaking and crying for my cock. Make that pretty pussy so desperate to be filled. Then I'm going to fuck you like a whore." Eddie's voice was dark and deep as he stepped back and tore off his shirt.

Y/N felt like she never had a chance to catch her breath. From his words, his hands, and now his naked chest. She reached forward, impatiently touching his skin as she trailed her nails from his chest to his stomach. She was locked on his belt, working fast as she tugged the leather through the loops and threw it to the floor.

She froze as Eddie's hands gripped her hands, quick to slam them against the wall above her head. She tugged but his grip was too tight.

"Eddie please," she whined

Eddie let her hands go, but his eyes told her not to move. He unbuttoned her jeans, lifting up her hips as he yanked down her pants. He tossed them to the floor, then his fingers teased her underwear band. She shivered as he ran in fingers back and forth, her stomach moving fast as she panted.

She sighed in relief when he got rid of her underwear, her cunt bare and on display. She watched with heavy eyes as he dropped to his knees, his eyes level with her wet cunt.

"Even more gorgeous than last time," he whispered, taking his time to lean in. Inhaling her sweet scent. "Smell so addicting"

She moaned as she realized he was talking to her cunt itself.

"Yes," she moaned and threw her head back against the wall when Eddie's tongue ran through her folds. "Fuck that's it" Her hands moved to his hair.

He loved it when she tugged at his curls so he allowed the movement. He was determined to fuck out her brains. He flattened his tongue and ran it up and down her cunt.

"More baby, please," Y/N begged

Eddie smirked against her cunt, loving how desperate she was for him. He pushed two fingers inside of her, moaning as they got soaked immediately. He slipped his fingers in and out, her cunt clenching around him as his mouth began to suck on her clit.

She purred as she clawed at his hair. The sight alone of her sexy boyfriend in between her thighs made her shake. Eddie had nothing to be jealous of, but she'd play along if he continued to fuck her the way he was.

His mouth was brutal on her clit, sucking and biting. And his fingers moved at a rapid pace, he slipped in a third finger.

"Love feeling those rings inside of me," She moaned out. The sound of her tired voice and comment made Eddie's cock pulse. He used his free hand to add a little pressure on his jeans.

Eddie kept his fingers moving inside of her but pulled away his mouth. "Yeah? I bet pretty boy didn't wear rings and couldn't finger you this deep."

Y/N couldn't respond, all she could give was broken moans as she felt a build-up. She could hear how wet she was as Eddie's fingers moved in and out of her.

"I know that look, you ready to cum huh?" Eddie smirked, moving forward to suck harshly on her clit. He moaned as she gripped his hair even tighter, he found pleasure in the burning of his roots.

She let out a loud pornographic moan as her thighs clenched around his head. He kept sucking, not letting up as he felt her thighs shake around his head. Adding to the orgasm he slipped a fourth finger in, stretching her open.

"GOD" she screamed as she soaked his fingers. She moved her hips against his fingers and tongue as she shook from the aftermath of her orgasm. She rode it out until the feeling settled down.

Eddie softly kissed her clit, slipping out his fingers. He pressed kisses to her thighs before standing back up.

"Open" he demanded, but she was so fucked out she didn't hear a thing. Her head hung forward and her body still shook.

Eddie clenched his jaw and used his clean hand to grip her neck, forcing her head up. Her eyes were wide with lust as she looked at him. She loved when Eddie manhandled her, the way he forced her body to do what he wanted.

She opened her mouth, and Eddie smiled.

"Good girl," he cooed, then roughly shoved his wet fingers in her mouth. She gagged at first, his long fingers hitting her throat. She regained herself and started to suck his fingers clean. Once Eddie was satisfied he pulled his fingers out.

"I want you naked and on my bed, now," Eddie growled

Y/N slipped off the counter, her legs wobbly as she landed on her feet. She walked the best she could, Eddie landed a slap on her bare ass making her jump.

Eddie grabbed their clothes, not wanting Wayne to find them. He threw them in a ball in his bedroom as he walked in. Y/N flat on the bed as she looked at him.

She stared as he kicked off his pants, and then slipped off his boxers. She whimpered as his hard, red, and thick cock came into view. No matter how many times she had seen Eddie naked and in all his glory, he always took her breath away.

Eddie soaked in her attention, slightly blushing at the way she drooled over his cock. He smirked proudly as he walked forward, her eyes watched as he walked past her grabbing the handcuffs from his wall.

She sat silent as he grabbed her wrist, giving it a soft kiss before he cuffed her to the bed, Then he reached over and did her other wrist. He stepped back, hand on his cock as he softly rubbed himself as he looked at her. She was cuffed to his bed, all at his mercy.

Eddie crawled on the bed, enjoying the way her breathing picked up with excitement.

"You want more, huh?" Eddie asked, his hands rubbed the inside of her thighs, and she spread them open. He smiled at how obedient she was.

"You want this?" He asked, smacking his cock against her inner thigh

"Yes, please," she begged, the heat of his cock against her thigh making her brain fuzzy. She was so captivated by him and everything he did.

Eddie smiled at her manners. He placed his cock inside his folds, his cock flat against her clit. She whined in protest as he began to rub his cock against her, but not inside of her.

He rubbed himself against her, sighing at the relief. He loved watching his cock rub between her folds, she fit perfectly around him.

"Eddie, please," she whimpered

Eddie leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Y/N moaned as she kissed him back. His right hand cupped her cheek, kissing her hard and deep as his cock rubbed against her.

He pulled back but kept his lips close to hers.

"One more before you get my cock in you, pretty girl."

Y/N cried against his lips but accepted it. She pressed her lips against his, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He hummed as she explored his mouth, loving the way she took some control.

The lazy make-out and the feeling of his cock rubbing against her clit had her stomach building again. Her hands yanked on the cuffs, craving to touch his skin. Eddie kept his tongue in her mouth as he reached down, he removed his cock and replaced it with his hand.

Ruthlessly rubbing her clit as she spazzed under him. He could hear the clink of the cuffs, and feel her body squirming. He pulled away from the kiss, a look in his eye that told her she better cum.

She arched her back as her second orgasm washed over her, stronger than the first.

Eddie was gentle as he rubbed her through it, waiting until she fell flat against the bed. He kissed up her arms, praising her.

He unhooked the cuffs, and her touch was on him in seconds. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she gripped him. Eddie gave her lips a few soft kisses, giving time for her body to relax.

Once she got her breath, it was ripped out of her lungs. Eddie pushed his cock fully inside of her, her walls tight around him as she choked out a cry.

"God you always feel so good," Eddie moaned, "nothing I love more than being inside you." His husky voice made Y/N claw at his shoulders. Why did everything this boy did turn her on?

She gasped as he fucked her hard, the bedframe smacking the wall as he puffed through his clenched teeth. He eyed her chest, loving the way her breasts moved with his thrusts.

"Who owns this pretty pussy?" Eddie asked, his left hand wrapped around her neck. She gasped as her breath was caught. His right hand gripped the headboard.

"Y-yours" she choked out through his grip. Her body was on fire and she could feel her skin glistened in sweat.

"Louder" he demanded, his cock hit the right spot. She cried out and he knew he hit the spot. He continued to hit that spot, angeling his hips.

"Yours," she said louder, his grip loosened and she took that time to refill her lungs. "All yours" she cried, tears in her eyes when his fingers touched her clit. Her clit burned, felt raw as he rubbed it with no mercy.

Eddie kept seeing that stupid look on Steve's face, pushing him to fuck her harder. He wasn't sure how much more his wall could take as the headboard began to chip away at the paint.

"That's it, baby. Squeeze me just like that" Eddie shivered as her pussy squeezed around him. She did a few times, each time pushing him further to exploding.

"Eddieeeee" she whined, her voice cracking as she choked on her sobs. She slapped his shoulder, trying to signal.

"You want to cum? Hm? Gonna be a whore and cum all over my cock?" He asked, his breath was hot as his words smacked her face. The smell of weed, sweat, and sex filled the room. She couldn't answer, just nodded as she felt her stomach snap.

Eddie hissed as her nails drew blood as she came. She clenched him so tight that he could barely move, he rubbed her clit to work her through it.

Y/N felt her body loosen, leaving Eddie's cock free to move. She thought he would slip out and give her a mini break in between, but she was wrong. The second Eddie's cock was free, he was pounding into her all over again.

"EDDIE I CAN'T" she cried, but no movement to push him away. Her cunt was used and abused. Begging for a break, but continued to welcome Eddie in.

"Yes, you can, just one more." He said through his teeth. Sweat was building under his bangs as he felt his own orgasm approaching. He slipped out of her for a second, flipping her on her stomach.

Her body was jelly as he gripped her hips and shoved her ass in the air. Her face was down against the sheets, screaming when his cock slammed back into her.

Eddie growled at the new sight, slapping down on her ass as he fucked her. He moaned with delight as her ass jiggled and turned red. He reached his arms forward, yanking her body up flat against his.

Her back arched as he pounded inside of her, his hands playing with her breasts. Gripping and tugging.

"Close, baby girl" Eddie warned, puffing as his balls smacked against her skin. He gripped her breasts as he felt his stomach getting ready to snap.

"Cum in me, make me yours. Fill me up, Eddie. Fill my whore pussy," she said, her dirty words affecting Eddie immediately as he emptied himself inside of her.

From the first three orgasms, Y/N's body was done. She had no control over what she felt. She didn't even know she needed to cum again until she felt herself squirting.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK" she screamed, her hips bucking forward, this caught Eddie's attention. He looked over her shoulder, watching as her squirt covered his pillows.

"Oh that's hot" he moaned, his hand instantly rubbing her clit. Making her squirt harder. He didn't mind the mess, he loved how much she covered his pillows. He gave a few sloppy thrusts, pushing his cum further inside of her.

"Done," she said, barely speaking as her voice was dead. She tapped Eddie's arm.

"Such a good girl, you did so good for me." He praised, slowly removing himself. He gently moved her body down away from the stained pillows, laying her on her back as her eyes drifted close.

"Love you," she mumbled. Eddie chuckled and pecked her lips.

"I love you," he said, he kissed every inch of her skin. Her breathing got deeper as she fell asleep.

Eddie slipped on clean boxers and began to clean her up. He couldn't help but stare as he covered her with a blanket. He had no idea how he got that lucky to be with her. And for her to be so in love with him.

Eddie took another look at his stained pillows, removing the cases so he could wash them. He smirked as he held them in his hands, wait until Steve heard about this.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[nerdy-novelist017]

Omg yay!! Ok obviously feel free to decline this since the subject matter could be rough for some people but, canon Benny’s reaction to what happened to Kathy was definitely my least fav part of the film and I need it to be rectified through fic🙏🏽. So could you write something about the aftermath of something like that happening to reader when her and Benny have been dating for a while? Im starved for caring and protective Benny unfortunately

Starve no more, anon ;) I have more protective Benny fics in the works! I made this one as a one shot to my Benny x Bunny series, hope that's okay! (This ISN'T the next part to Little Bunny! It's just a little one shot for after they're together ;) I'm working on getting the next part posted tonight!)

Word Count- 1.1k

Summary- Benny couldn't possibly want you after what almost happened, right?

TW- SA, 18+

*Please don't read if you are uncomfortable with the content!

Life Raft (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

Benny was going to be so upset with you.

Your hands shook from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You blinked and the tears burning your eyes threatened to spill over. Kathy’s hand rubbed the spot between your shoulder blades soothingly as she sat on the edge of the bed with you. Downstairs, you could hear the party wrapping up, Johnny and Funny Sonny trying to get everybody to leave. The party was over, too many bad things had happened for everyone to just pretend they didn’t see it, pretend they didn’t hear it.

You swallowed roughly, the events of the last hour still looping in your mind. The way his cold eyes raked over your body, the way he smiled sinisterly as you backed away. The course palm of his hand that wrapped around your throat, pinning you against the wall. His hot breath fanning across your mouth as his tongue invaded. His other hand going up your skirt, grazing the line of your panties. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at that part. You had screamed, but Benny wasn’t there. Kathy wasn’t there. Zipco wasn’t there. Brucie wasn’t there. You were alone with this man, prey to this predator. And who even was this man? You hadn’t seen him before, even though he wore the colors you had been so used to seeing almost every day. More chapters were popping up everywhere and with it, came new faces to the parties, meetings and picnics. Strangers, dangerously prowling through the club now, waiting for opportunities of solitude to attack.

You had only left the bonfire for a moment, telling Benny that you were going inside to grab a soda from the fridge. They only ever had beer coolers outside by the fire. You would only be gone for a moment. But a moment was all this animal needed as he stalked into the kitchen after you.

You were alone and that realization sent ice through your veins. This animal could do whatever he wanted, and you were powerless to stop it.

And then suddenly Johnny was there, grabbing this man and throwing him away from you. You were stuck against the wall, frozen in fear as you watched Wahoo and Corky jump into the fight as well. The two dragged the man out of the room, heading for the back door.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” Johnny asked, trying to make eye contact with your frantic gaze. He reached out slowly and pulled the hem of your dress back down to cover your trembling legs. “C’mon, let Kathy get you upstairs.”

You hadn’t even realized Kathy was there too now. She wrapped her arms around you, guiding you to the stairs. 

“B—Benny?” You tried to ask and Johnny nodded. 

“I’ll get him for ya,” he said, eyes empathetic.

That seemed to be hours ago. Or maybe it was only a few minutes. You weren’t sure; everything felt a little hazy. However long it was, Kathy never left your side, having planted herself next to you. You tried to say something to her, to thank her, but your throat was too dry and your mind too incoherent. You felt dirty and scared and you just wanted to go home. 

Benny was going to be so upset with you. 

Footsteps climbed the stairs and you stiffened at the sound. Benny appeared in the doorway and you wanted to sob. The man you wanted to run to, the man you wanted to hold you tight and carry you back to safety stood there, a dark expression on his face. With one look at Kathy, he dismissed her. She squeezed your arm gently. 

“I’ll be right downstairs if ya need me,” she promised softly and then she was gone. Benny closed the door behind her and a heavy silence filled the bedroom.

Your heart raced as he moved to stand at the dresser across from you. You could see the tension radiating from him and you swallowed back any kind of hope for him to love you still. 

“What happened?” he asked finally, his voice wavering with barely-controlled anger.

“I-I just wanted a pop. I just came in-inside and he—he . . . I couldn’t—couldn’t get away—” The words tumbled out of your mouth incoherently. 

“Which one?” 

You looked up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. “I—I don’t . . . Did Johnny not—”

“Johnny didn’t tell me who. Just told me . . .” His words died as he looked at the purple marks forming on your neck. His jaw clenched hard and he looked away from you. Your heart sunk at the action. He couldn’t even look at you anymore. He was so disgusted that he couldn’t even look at you. You could feel him slipping through your fingers and total desperation hit you like a wave. The ocean, you thought, that's what it felt like. You were lost in the middle of the ocean and a storm broke a nasty hole in your tiny ship. You were sinking, drowning in that vast, dark water.

The tears broke free from their dam and rolled down your cheeks as a sob caught in your throat. “I’m—I’m so sorry, B—Benny. Please forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” He looked back at you but you couldn’t face his hard gaze. 

Looking down at your lap, you cried. “Please don’t be upset with m—me. I’m sorry.”

He crossed the distance between you, lowering himself to his knees before you. You squeezed your eyes shut to avoid his gaze, heart shattering in your chest.

His warm hands enveloped yours tightly. “Bunny.”

Please don’t leave me here to pick myself up, you wanted to say. Please don’t abandon me to this darkness, I'm already drowning. I'm still me. I'm still your girl.

“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was so soft, just barely above a whisper. 

You obeyed his gentle command. His face was inches below yours, eyes examining. Slowly, he lifted his hand and his fingertips ghosted over the bruises forming on your throat. His brows pinched together but his eyes were soft as they returned to yours. His fingers traveled over the curve of your jaw and up to swipe the heavy flow of tears from beneath your eyes.

“I could never be upset with you, Bunny," he whispered. “I could never.” 

Your hands came up to grip his wrists as if he were a life raft holding you afloat. His hands, you realized, were shaking slightly and you held even tighter, anchoring him to you. 

“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself. Angry that I wasn’t there to protect you.” His voice wavered, tears rimming his beautiful blue eyes. “I promised to always protect you and I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry, Bunny. I’m so, so sorry.”

Words failed you, but you never needed them for Benny. You threw your arms around his neck, burying yourself into his chest. He reacted immediately, pulling you impossibly close as he moved to sit on the bed beside you. You cried, and he let you.

And when Johnny came to check on you, that’s how he found you: curled into your Benny's chest, his arms a protective shield from the rest of the world as he whispered into your ear, hands running gently through your hair. And Johnny knew that you’d be okay, because you had Benny. And Benny would be okay because Johnny and his boys had already taken care of the ex-Vandal who dared to lay a hand on their little bunny.

*Tag List *

@Imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer

[jsooly]

death in the family (9) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, what could go wrong?

WARNING. descriptions of fighting, injury, blood, needles

note, yay new chapter ! enjoy :)

(MASTERLIST)

/

neytiri wore her emotions on her sleeve. if she was upset, you'd know it. you'd see it, hear it, feel it. thankfully, all of her children were the same and it made for easy parenting. at least, when knowing something was wrong was concerned.

for the last few days, a cloud of despair followed tuk wherever she went. she was snippy with everyone, especially when the sun fell. neteyam tried to cheer her up by making the other siblings play the games she wanted to play, but even that wasn't sufficient for the youngest.

neytiri's eyes followed tuk as she entered the marui behind her older siblings to clean up for dinner, passing by without so much as a 'hello.' for a bubbly and talkative child, the dip in her mood was heavy on the rest of the family.

"what happened?" she whispered to jake once the kids were out of earshot.

jake looked up from where he was lighting the fire pit, pursing his lips in confusion. "what happened with what?"

"tuk."

he furrowed his eyebrows, his gaze briefly flickering to where the kids were bickering in the corner. "i'm not sure. she's been in a mood for the week, but she's been playing and going out with the other kids just fine."

neytiri dropped beside him just as the kids sat around the fire to eat. she cleared her throat expectantly. neteyam, kiri, and lo'ak looked up in anticipation and maybe a little bit of fear, but tuk's gaze remained trained on the floor.

"tuk." neytiri called her gently but firmly. "what is the matter?"

tuk's eyes flickered to her mother's, an answer on her lips; her eyes then passed over to her brothers and sister's warning looks and promptly zipped her mouth shut.

neytiri's eyes narrowed, noticing every micro-expression and unspoken message. she turned her interrogation onto the others. "what? what is that look for?"

"nothing, mother." neteyam spoke up, hoping to put the line of questioning to rest.

jake's suspicion grew, and he leaned forward to read the room better. "you're hiding something."

neteyam sighed. "we're not. we don't know why tuk's so upset, she's been fine all day."

jake's gaze swept over kiri and lo'ak. "nah, look at those faces. partners in crime, huh? what've you been up to that's got your sister like this?"

lo'ak and kiri straightened up, passing each other questioning looks before neutralizing their expressions.

"we've been out with the other kids, like every other day? not like there's anything else to do around here." lo'ak muttered.

"and yet, you always seem to find a way to shake things up." jake shot back, resting his hands on his hips. lo'ak not-so-discreetly rolled his eyes, which jake had the maturity to overlook. "now, is one of you gonna come clean or do i have to supervise you while you're out there?"

kiri groaned, slamming her food down in protest. neytiri scolded her, but the warning went in one ear and out the other. "has it ever occurred to you that we're doing benign private unremarkable things when we're not with you?"

"no." both neytiri and jake deadpanned at once.

kiri scoffed and crossed her arms. a pregnant pause occupied the conversation before jake sighed.

"fine, don't tell us. but you better fix my baby girl," he pointed to tuk. "or i'm forcing whatever it is out of you, understand?"

"yes, sir..." they all mumbled, picking at their food.

in the tense quiet that followed while everyone ate dinner, tuk wasn't spared the full force of her siblings' exasperated and annoyed glares.

keeping secrets was hard for her! she'd never been beyond the village boundaries, but all of her siblings routinely waited among the rocks where lo'ak first found you just in case that was the day you decided to visit. was it her fault she didn't want to be left out? she wanted to see you too! it was just... so far from the village... and dad got so mad at lo'ak for breaching the reef borders the first time...

the only reason they let her come along in the first place was because they made her promise—seriously promise—not to spill anything to mom and dad. here she was, trying her best to keep the secret and inadvertently breaking her promise in the process.

she sighed.

/

tarsem barked orders to his fighters rapidly, snatching his bow from its resting place and gathering whatever remaining ammo they had from the previous supply run.

you emerged from your tent, coaxed by curiosity at the increasing chatter, dodging an arrow as a fighter swung it in the air to align it in her bow. you automatically donned your own gear, searching for tarsem among the crowd.

"did something happen?" you asked when you found him.

he looked up from his maps briefly and locked eyes with you. "another supply train is making its way to the demon base."

memories of neteyam's and lo'ak's first supply run echoed in your mind. "let me get katir, and i'll—"

"ha," his lips twisted, standing to his full height and crossing his arms. "you are not coming."

your eyes narrowed. "the only thing that stopped me from joining the fight before was not having an ikran. i have katir."

"that is not the issue, ngatsyìp."

you ignored him, continuing, "you could use aerial support, especially if helicopters respond to your attack. they did last time and you lost a few good men. katir would easily overwhelm them."

tarsem scowled, his annoyance at your sound logic shining through. "i cannot let anything happen to you, and you have shown time and time again that danger is your most treasured lover."

you threw your hands up in exasperation. "tarsem. do you trust me or not?"

"i trust you, of course." he shot back hurriedly. "i trust you to be reckless. i trust you to be flippant with your own life."

you rolled your eyes. "you know i'll follow you anyway. you either let me in on your plans, or let me loose on the field."

tarsem growled in annoyance. "nga tspang oe. (you kill me.) fine." reluctantly pulling you closer to the war table to take in his strategies, he muttered, "the lightning bug can patrol the skies."

you smiled, not missing the roll of his eyes at your triumphant expression. what could go wrong?

/

you heard the distant alarms of the RDA airfield within minutes of the clan's hit to the train, no doubt calling pilots to their birds. it seemed like none of the sully kids could escape scouting duty in times like these, because like your brothers, you were stuck to soaring above the action with katir.

the train cars were dismantled of their tracks, and those with the fastest ikran carried the boxes of weapons and ammo back to high camp. you tuned in for any sound of beating propellers.

katir turned before you; in the distance, you saw five samsons cutting through the air towards the fallen train. you pat katir's neck to signal that it was okay to go crazy.

he dove almost immediately. you clung low to his neck as the wind whistled past your ears, your arm sliding down the contours of your body to stabilize your quiver.

with a deafening screech, katir drove his barbed tail through one of the samson's propellers—it spun out of control, taking the two closest down to their demise along with it. the remaining two broke formation and went around the commotion, beelining it towards the clan.

just as they sped beside you, you leapt from katir's neck onto one of the helicopters. swinging into the cabin, you dodged the pilot's bullets, grabbing their wrist and directing their gun to the ceiling. with their torso exposed, you delivered a swift killing blow to their neck.

without human control, the aircraft started to wobble. in a moment of adrenaline, you seized the handles and pulled up with all your might. overestimating the amount of strength needed to move the control stick, the helicopter shot up in the sky, perpendicular to the ground below—your hand on the stick was the only thing stopping you from tumbling out the samson.

you managed to nick the last remaining aircraft in your wild flight path, but it did more harm to the plane you were on than the other. you quickly abandoned it, jumping out of the helicopter into katir's waiting talons. scaling his body to his back, he provided stable ground for you to ready, aim, and fire your bow right at the last pilot's chest.

you let your arrow fly, watching with satisfaction as the last samson plunged to its rocky grave.

your moment of fulfillment was short-lived—katir cried in warning, his muscles flexing underneath your knees, and then you felt it.

a bullet piercing your side.

another aircraft emerged from the cover of the forest. you couldn't afford the time for questions like how did i miss this one? though the answer was painfully clear—a new model of RDA weaponry, camouflaged to the forest and completely silent.

pain flared its way up your body; this was nothing like the bullet graze you got the first encounter with quaritch. it rooted deeper, like a thick needle taking it's sweet, sweet time puncturing all layers of your skin.

you stumbled onto all fours, blood leaking onto katir's dusky blue exterior. as if sensing something was wrong, he evaded the incoming aircraft on his own volition. his pained and panicked squawks tugged at your heart.

"kat," you croaked, rubbing a soothing hand over his skin. "mawey, katir."

he must have noticed the weakness in your voice, the way it gargled on the blood flooding your system, because he did not calm down. he drove himself to an altitude where the samsons couldn't follow.

but the aircraft following you was no samson. it matched katir's height and speed, firing its guns in your direction.

as long as its fire is not on the na'vi, i'm winning. you reminded yourself. "katir, get away from here, understand?" you told him with finality. you pat him in farewell before leaping off of his back to the new aircraft.

the wonders of adrenaline. it was like you weren't in control of your body, and you were just barely aware of what you were doing. there were three soldiers—you shot your prepared arrow at the farthest, quickly grabbing your knife and stabbing the next. off-balance, they fell to their knees. you sliced their neck and kicked them off the plane.

you reacted too late to the third. abandoning their pilot's seat, they put you in a headlock. you thrashed against their grip, momentarily overpowering them before they drove their knee into your side wound. you cried out, blood gushing down your leg and draining your energy along with it.

your resistance grew weaker. your eyes began to droop. you felt hollow and drowsy. you couldn't breath with the constraint the solider had on your neck and in a blink, everything went black.

you faintly heard the soldier report, "target secured."

/

tarsem watched as the last of his fighters mounted their ikran and made their way to high camp. in the distance, he saw the smoke of RDA helicopters, a smile on his face as he acknowledged your carnage.

his eyes drifted upward, searching for signs of katir. he didn't have to look too far as your stormglider crashed to the ground, antsy.

he frowned, discomfort swirling in his stomach as he approached. offering his hand in greeting to katir, the animal allowed him to stroke his head as he assessed the state of him.

tarsem's heart dropped when he saw the blood on katir's back. the stormglider snorted, shaking its wings in fright—the blood scattered through the air, dotting tarsem's deep blue skin with spots of red.

he assured katir he would return before jumping onto his banshee, zooming to the crash zone for any sign of life. as he approached the scene of your battle, he caught the retreating aircraft in the far, far distance.

the smell of your blood was potent. it hung in the air, clinging to the flight path of the helicopter. you were still alive. bleeding and severely injured, no doubt. but alive. that was all he needed.

his hands curled into fists, rigid with rage. the sky people would learn that jake sully’s absence did not mean the clan had lost its strength. he was your olo’eyktan; you were his responsibility, his to protect. and he would bring you back. he swore it.

for now, he bottled up his anger and retreated home.

. . .

thanks for reading! lmk if you wanted to be removed from the taglist :)

@dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000 @childishname @nen-nyy @moonchildxoxx @hdjfvnd @spqrkles @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry @avatar4eva @sleepykittycx @jackiehollanderr @lovelygirl8 @akiraxmoon @thebipi @ghouliazinterlude @just-pure-trash @krys0210 @gabbiegabbie24 @stoleyahhbishhh @ironsaladwitch @crumbs-and-covers @queen-luna-007 @xwackk @frvv @danelioniess @cristy-101 @linaaa15 @potao-o @julianne1024 @mymilkshakefun @shaheea

sorry if you weren't able to be tagged ! sometimes tumblr is wonky but ik some people said it was a problem in their settings … just dm me if that's the case and i'll try retagging you :)

© jsooly ‘25

[millimeraki]

A Writer & A Painter | Verso Dessendre

(Part 2 - If you haven’t yet, go read part 1 for getting the full picture)

[Real Verso / Fem!Reader]

Part 1 ◂ Part 2 ▸ Part 3

Word Count: ~ 7k Rating: E (contains smut) Author's Note: I was overwhelmed with all the love coming my way after part 1 🥹 Didn’t expect that honestly! So yay, have part 2. I hope I can live up to expectations. I have all these headcanons about the Writer’s powers, but also, there is smut cause Verso’s face needs to be between those legs. So I really tried to keep it balanced. Reader ist now Fem, I was able to keep it Gen in the first part, but for this, well… There will be one more part! 

You opened your eyes with a yelp.

You had manifested stories you had written yourself before. You had even stepped into stories written by others. Your closest friends, who wanted to share them with you, to invite you into their worlds and show you what the perfect construct of thought meant to them. So you’d thought yourself used to experiencing these subjectively unparalleled stagings, and then finding yourself back where you had entered the manuscript, the first page in front of you, without the urge to to dive right back in.

But you hadn’t been prepared for how much more powerful the experience would be when it involved a real person written between those pages. Especially not in the way you had crafted the encounter, a short but intense scene meant to convince you to never return to the Dessendre manor, to burn the paper and leave for the countryside with Soleil the next morning, letting time bury both the matter and your feelings.

Instead, the written words had devoured you whole, so much so that you’d momentarily lost touch with what was fiction and what was real. The written Verso had entered your bedroom, carrying the hungry look you had given him, had grabbed you tightly, loved you roughly.

Somewhere in the maelstrom of emotion and sensation, you’d started to accept it as a new truth. You’d felt the exact moment hit, so revealing, it had allowed you to take back control. Your story had, for a short while, refused to be seen as just that, and you’d had to pull yourself together, had to remember that you had deliberately not described how you actually perceived Verso, so this false version of him would be the last thing you experienced with him.

Your plan hadn’t quite worked out. You now understood why the council members argued so fiercely over the ethics of it all. With just this one manifestation, you had almost lost yourself in what you had shared with a real person in there. Worse yet, it consumed you even now, knowing that you could write what you truly thought of Verso, and how he would treat you in this room, with reverence and abandon instead of roughness and possession. You wanted to experience it. Your plan had failed, you wanted more. You never should have tried, because now you knew what it could feel like.

You pressed your hand on your throat to feel your racing pulse, to ground yourself in reality and get your breath under control. How long had you spent between the pages? It had taken you quite some time to write it in the first place. It had to be the middle of the night by now. The breeze from your open balcony door dried the sweat on your forehead.

You moved to get up and close it when suddenly a small projectile sailed through, and you had to dodge it with another yelp. It landed on your duvet. Soleil, back on the bed after you had been sitting quietly in front of your desk for long enough, immediately perked up and leapt playfully after the tiny thing.

“Soleil, don't!” you implored her, alarmed.

You rushed over to see what had just come flying through your window and was now pinned under Soleil’s paws. The little cat meowed in protest as you removed her from her prey. What came into view was just a pebble. Confused, you picked it up, turned the tiny stone between your fingers, inspecting it under the faint glow of your bedside lamp. It really was just that.

At that moment, another one hit the back of your head. “Ouch! What the…” Cautiously, you made your way to the balcony door, stepping outside to peer down at the street in search of the source of the attack.

“Oh, merde…” you muttered, then raised your voice in a sharp whisper, “What are you doing here?!”

Verso stood below, near the entrance of your house, already mid-motion to throw the next little stone through your open window. He paused when he saw you, lowering his arm. The silence of the night stretched out between you. His face was barely lit by a distant streetlamp, his features half hidden in shadow. Shifting restlessly, he glanced down at the uneven cobblestones beneath his feet, then just threw his arms into the air.

“I couldn’t just let you walk away,” he said, dragging a hand across his face.

“You did,” you replied, still trying to tame the storm inside you, the wind at your back pushing you toward him.

“And then came to find you.”

“Well, that’s just creepy.” You rolled your eyes. “How did you even find my house?”

Verso gestured around vaguely. “I asked the neighbors.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But it’s the middle of the night.”

“I might’ve asked a few more people.”

Your expression softened. He’d searched for you until the moon stood high in the sky. Had asked more people than he could count, only to end up at your doorstep, too afraid to knock, scared you wouldn’t open the door.

“Verso, you can’t…” you began, and even just starting the sentence made the barely patched-up wound in your heart split open again.

“Let’s just talk,” he pleaded, his raised voice echoing into the night.

You winced. “Please don’t be so loud.” This wasn’t his part of town. Writers lived here. Who knew who he’d asked. Chances were the council would be informed by morning that Verso Dessendre had come asking about your address. Some people had likely refused to tell him anything, surprised he was asking about you at all. Some kind soul, probably the old lady from down the street, must’ve been swayed by his handsome, longing face.

“I don’t care who sees or hears me,” he shot back, a little louder this time. “And I won’t leave until we’ve talked.”

“Putain, Verso,” you complained in frustration before pushing away from your balcony railing without another word. You absolutely believed he would wake the neighbors and put himself in danger just to make his point.

You hurried down your narrow hallway staircase, past the turnoff to your living room and into the equally small entrance of your home, yanking the door open. He had already positioned himself in front of it, so you grabbed him by the collar to pull him inside quickly, and hopefully unnoticed.

“Alright, listen,” you tried to be the voice of reason, “you can’t do that. You can’t be searching for me in this part of the city. You know how dangerous that is for you. And we can’t…” The words caught in your throat. You’d managed to say them with conviction once, but a second time? Not when he looked at you like that. With that soft, dreamy look in his eyes, that gentle smile on his lips.

“You think this is funny?” you asked, folding your arms, his tender gaze tightening around your heart like a vice.

“I don’t,” he murmured, lifting a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. You inhaled sharply. “It’s just that –” he watched his fingers trace softly along your cheek, tucking the hair behind your ear as you held your breath, “I don’t care how dangerous it is. I told you, I don’t care. The time I spend with you, it’s…” He inhaled shakily. “It’s the first time I feel like I can actually be me. You know me. I never thought anyone would. I’d go through hell to be with you.”

Your resolve faltered. This was the man you’d write poetry about. The one you were too afraid to experience, because you feared he would consume you, that you’d never want to leave his arms again.

“You have to go,” you snapped yourself out of the trance he was pulling you into. Waving your hands, you forced his touch away, then pushed past him head over heels, fleeing upwards, nearly tripping on the stairs, darting past Soleil, who was trotting toward Verso with her tail raised.

“You little traitor!” You exclaimed, pointing accusingly at your fluffy cat, now contentedly hanging in Verso’s arms at the base of the staircase. “Leave, Verso – but don’t take my cat.” That made Verso smile, not your intention, but he was breaking down your barricades, one by one, and you wouldn’t be able to resist him much longer.

You heard him follow you up the stairs, his pursuit only fueling the excitement and confusion bubbling inside you, conflicting feelings tearing you apart. Your door never reached the lock; it was stopped by Verso’s hand. Standing in your bedroom, you turned to face him. Soleil had disappeared from his arms.

“We don’t really know each other, Verso. Look,” you pointed to your desk, where the papers now lay scattered, no longer in the neat order you’d once arranged them in, disheveled by all the chaos of the last hours. You reached into the mess, pulled out a single page and held it up to his face before turning back toward the window, your voice building into a blind, frustrated tirade. “I am a Writer. You don’t know anything about me. You are a Painter. I don’t know anything about you.”

What you did know about the craft of Painters came from secondary sources, admittedly, but it was enough to understand how utterly opposite the two of you were. Writers, those who scripted things into perfection and manifestation. The more advanced ones could absorb words to invoke states. And Painters, those who created imperfect, sentient worlds with free thought, essentially playing God. Within your circle, there was always consensus that the powers of Painters were unnatural, an abomination, and that their works should not be traded for such absurd amounts of money. What might they say in his circle about the Writers?

You scoffed and turned back toward Verso, ready to repeat that you didn’t know each other, even though you knew exactly what he meant. But you were forced to stop in your tracks. Verso was holding the page you had just shoved at him, reading it with rapt, almost haunted attention. Your heart dropped to your stomach. You glanced back at the stack of papers from which you’d pulled it. Your hand shot to your mouth the moment it opened in shock. Eyes wide, you froze, caught in a moment of horror you couldn’t yet escape.

“Well, maybe we really don’t know each other, because that is not how I would…” He trailed off, a startled snort escaping him as he reached the end of the page. He flipped it over to check the back, then lifted his eyes, clearly surprised, to look at you.

The instinct to explain yourself hit you instantly. You couldn’t possibly let him believe you really saw him the way you’d described him on that page. You snatched the paper from his hands. “That was clearly not meant for your eyes. And, I know this is not how you would –” You paused briefly. “How you would do this. In fact –” You inhaled, exhaled, “I should never have done this. It’s highly forbidden where I come from to weave others into your writing. I wrote it like that because I hoped it would help me get over it.”

Verso raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “By describing me like some kind of manhandling caveman?”

“Hey, it is not that primitive,” you defended your prose. You had tried to write it poetically, hadn’t you? Had given him warm, praising words to say. “Besides, if you think it’s that unflattering, then maybe I did the job right.” You placed the sheet back on your desk.

He looked at it again, this time with a stricter, more confused, and troubled gaze. “And what do you do with this, exactly? Did you plan on using it on me? So I’d take you like that, and then you could definitely not look me in the eye after?"

You blinked, baffled by the implication. What did he mean by that? “N-No. It’s –” He didn't seem to know much about the power of the Writers. Or maybe he only knew about the most powerful ones. “It’s not like that. I wouldn’t even know if it’s possible to affect someone like that, let alone with normal ink. I just… lived through it.”

Verso’s tense, angry features softened a little, though his arms remained crossed. “Lived through it? Like, you entered it?”

You nodded.

Now his posture eased as well. “I see. I can see why you think it to be forbidden.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “I feel a little violated.”

“I’m so sorry.” You scrambled to gather all the pages on your desk, shoving them into a drawer to get them out of his sight, so he wouldn’t have to bear the shame of seeing them. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was deeply wrong. It stripped you of your agency. It was dangerous. And it didn’t even help.”

All those warnings your family had drilled into you had been right. You had violated Verso’s deepest privacy, to him, off all people, you should have shown more respect. And your shame over it didn’t exactly help you push back against his presence. It gnawed at you, eroded your defenses from within.

“It’s okay,” Verso tried to ease your guilt. “I get it. It’s the desire to experience something you don’t believe you can ever truly have.” He moved toward you with a smooth motion, his fingers trailing lightly along the edge of your bed frame. Nervously, you watched his approach. If he didn’t leave now, if he so much as uttered another declaration of affection, you wouldn’t be able to resist him any longer.

“So what you’re really saying is, you didn’t like it? What you wrote?” His eyes sparkled with the slightest hint of mischief as his gaze shifted from the bed to you.

Your heart, which had only just begun to settle, picked up its pace again. You cursed yourself for having accidentally handed him that sheet of paper. “I really thought I would… just get over you with this,” you said, your eyes drifting to a small uneven spot in the wallpaper opposite you, desperate not to meet his inquisitive gaze. “That I could create a moment that was enough without being real. I should have known better. So, no, I didn’t like it. Quite the opposite…”

“You asked yourself what the real thing would be like,” Verso said, reading your innermost thoughts with eerie precision.

You saw him come closer out of the corner of your eye, so close you were forced to look at him if you wanted any hope of stopping what you both actually wanted. The hardwood floor creaked under the weight of his meaningful steps. It fell silent when he finally stood in front of you. You looked up at him as his hands gently found your upper arms, the touch so innocent, yet it made your nerves spike up uncontrollably.

“Verso…” Your voice faltered, barely a whisper, and you knew you’d been lost the entire time, your restistance merely a self-prompted spectacle.

His soft, sincere smile only began to quench the thirst you had for him.

His careful touch sent a shiver down your spine as it hovered just above the fabric of your loosely buttoned, dark cotton shirt, gliding upward until his fingertips met the heated skin of your neck. All the while, his eyes followed. He took the edge of your collar between his fingers and moved it just far enough to expose your collarbone. Breathing became harder, and you knew he noticed.

“I think we know each other just fine,” he said, “in spirit.” He closed the remaining space between you, his chest pressed softly against yours. One hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his fingers tracing the edge of your hairline. “I know that you are so idealistic you’d hurt yourself trying to be perfect. And you know that I am very much imperfect.”

Your eyes met. Whatever fire had existed between you had never burned out, only smoldered. You shook your head gently. “Not to me.”

He smiled, visibly touched. “And that’s why you know me. You embraced the man behind the mask without even knowing I wore one.”

No longer able to hold back, you brought your hands to his chin, the roughness of his beard familiar now from the first time, just hours ago, when you had touched him. He exhaled and closed his eyes for a second. You rose to your toes, leaning toward him, your lips already impossibly close to his.

“What does that mean?” you whispered.

His forehead met yours. “Doesn’t matter. All I know is, you know me. And I want to be with you, in spirit… and in body. I want to make love to you in the truest way I can. Bare myself to you completely, if you’ll have me.”

Your breaths mingled as you smiled. “And here I thought I was the Writer.”

The crooked, adorable grin you’d come to know appeared even through your blurred vision. “Can I kiss you already?”

A flicker of trepidation returned to your burning nerves. “I am afraid,” you admitted, still grounding yourself in the gruff of his beard.  

“I know.” He ran his fingers through your hair, looking down at you with quiet reassurance. “We don’t have to tell anyone just yet. Not until we have a plan, or maybe even several. Making you uncomfortable is the last thing I want. We’ll take it slow. Would that be alright?”

No answer came from your lips, your lips were the answer. You leaned forward, just a bit too fast, to reunite with him. No matter how selfish, no matter how wrong, you couldn’t fight the pull of him. He pulled, and you pushed too deep, falling right back into him.

The way he kissed you now was passionate, but so much more reverent than the false version of Verso you had written. His lips were softer, his touch more intentional. Once more, your fingers moved through his midnight-black curls, smooth against your skin, opening your body to him, and he let himself in.

Verso wrapped his arms around you, pulling you gently against him, wanting to envelop you, to show you how deeply he cherished you. He didn’t want to possess you, didn’t want to take you, he wanted to love you, in body and in soul.

Without removing his lips from yours, he lifted you effortlessly from the floor, turned with you in his arms, and carried you toward your bed. Like a princess, he gently laid you down in the sheets, your head resting on the delightfully soft pillow, and Verso’s body moved atop yours.

He felt the slight, nearly imperceptible tremble that ran through you, and your racing pulse, as he placed his hand on your neck, brushing his thumb over your chin, only seeking grounding and the thrill of your skin, sending tiny electric jolts through his fingers. He could have stayed like that with you forever, feeling your closeness, sensing you, but then there was that little devil on his shoulder, urging him to slowly and indulgently open the buttons of your shirt.

You came up for air from the ever-growing passion of his lips, only for your breath to hitch as you saw his face above yours. He wore the happiest expression, tenderly loving, as you’d only ever seen it when he played the piano, with that touch of sadness in his beautiful eyes.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and your heart burst open.

He leaned down, pressed one last, soft kiss to your lips, then let his mouth travel down your chin. Your instinct was to stretch toward him, chasing his warm breath, feeling it at your neck, where he lingered, gently taking your delicate skin between his lips. You exhaled, searching for support in his arms framing you, hidden beneath his shirt, reaching into its expensive fabric.

Your shirt was opened by nimble fingers down to the base of your skirt, but he didn’t stop there, instead pulling the lower ends out of the waistband. The soft fabric slid down your sides. A cold breeze from the still-open window tickled your exposed skin, your upper body now only covered by your cache-corset, the pretty, short top you liked to wear under your shirts even without a corset.

He watched your chest rise and fall with your heavy breath, saw the perfection that was you. Your even skin was like a blank canvas, one on which he would gladly immortalize a piece of his soul. But you were so much more than that. Inside you was already an entire world, your essence a symphony so harmonious that he wanted to hear it forever, and be near it forever.

His soft fingers traced along your waist. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was playing you like his piano. The way he moved them, tickling your skin, sparked a shiver and goosebumps spread across your body. And when his mouth followed to tenderly explore those same spots, your lower abdomen tensed with anticipation. All the more so when he gently traced the hem of your undershirt.

“Is this alright?” he asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

“Yes, yes,” you breathed, arching your back into his hand.

Beneath your undershirt, he felt the smooth curve of your breast with pleasure, and a small sound escaped you as his fingertips brushed over its peak, the sound enough to send a warm tingling through his body, settling in his loins, more demanding than he wished for, prompting him to brush the last bit of fabric from your torso and over your head, then starting to peel off his vest and unbutton his own shirt.

You, now exposed, didn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed, his presence made you feel like you were slipping between the pages of your favorite story. But now, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe in the real world. So you helped him out of his clothes, and they joined yours on the floor.

Before you looked, you reached for him to feel him first. His body was lean, perfectly firm in all the right places, soft black hair spread across his evenly built chest. You ran your fingers through the fuzz, leaned into him, and pressed your lips to the crook of his neck. His own pulse was fast but steady as he pressed his head against yours, gently took your wrist, brought it to his mouth, and kissed your palm.

He wrapped his arms around you to flip you over in one swift motion. A giggle escaped you at the sudden move, just before you ended up straddling him. His back sank into the soft mattress under your weight, his hands immediately returning to your body, the sight of your splendor like a gift.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice now a whole octave lower with desire for you. 

“You already said that,” you breathed out with amusement, bent down and laid yourself on top of him, your heated bodies rubbing against each other, fueling your own desire to feel everything of him. So you began fumbling with the fastening of his trousers while your lips pressed against each other, your balance in jeopardy.

He hummed. “And I would say it again,” he whispered a kiss on your lips, “and again,” on the tip of your nose, “and again, praying it like the most devoted believer out there.” He reached between you too, untied the ribbon at the back of your flared skirt and then, almost too skillfully, unfastened the clasp. “You are the most beautiful woman I ever got the honor to look upon.”

Your bottoms joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. And so you did what he proposed. You bared yourselves to each other, body and soul, and his sight was glorious. You sat up on him, his hands persistent, never retreating, on you. You drank each other in, your eyes roaming over your bodies.

Behind his loving, wholly devoted gaze now hid more than just longing, you saw the hunger in his eyes begin to show itself, the slightly firmer grip of his hands, his parted lips searching for more air.

He straightened up, shifting your weight so he could capture your mouth in a kiss so passionate it robbed you of your senses, your focus entirely on him and the heat between you, his arousal only a few inches away, aligned for you to just lower yourself onto him, to fill yourself with him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breathless, though he didn’t know what he would of done if you said no. “I wouldn’t want to –”

You placed your index finger on his mouth to silence him. “I want you, Verso,” you told him, feeling vulnerable as you admitted, “I want you so much that I’m afraid I won’t be able to live without you.”

With those words, you allowed him to find your entrance, and slowly, then with more pressure, you sank down onto him, savoring every inch you took in, your slick walls making it all too easy. You both let out a shaky breath as he bottomed out inside you, your breaths mingling so sensually that your muscles immediately clenched around him and instinctively, you grabbed onto his shoulder, your hips rolling forward, drawing a sigh from you.

“Oh mon dieu,” he gurgled against your neck, rocking you on his cock, coaxing the next sigh from your lips that nearly drove him insane, “wait, wait.” He stopped you with a hand on your hip.

You looked at him, confused, the pull in your core too strong, you needed the release, the friction, wanted to ride him and let him hit that spot inside you that would send you into bliss. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” you asked uncertainly.

His brief confusion vanished in a split second, replaced by that charming, slightly crooked grin and an amused sound. “Are you kidding me? You feel divine. No, I –” one of his hands snaked down your body, over your stomach, between you, while the other remained on your hip, “I want to give you more than that. So much more. Please, let me make you feel good. Let me revel in you.”

You couldn’t resist the request, and you wouldn’t have wanted to, especially not in the moment his confident, gentle fingers found their mark. You gasped, arched toward him, clung to him as he began to rub you with steady, deliberate circles that sent waves of sensation through you. With closed eyes, you focused solely on the feelings he stirred in you, he seemed to know exactly how much pressure and speed would bring you joy. Soon, you had to part your lips for breath, soft sounds escaping your throat.

Verso, intent on being a devoted lover, took his time. Your receptive response only deepened his desire. You were in tune with him, arching your back, your thighs trembling progressively harder, especially when he squeezed your hip gently but firmly to move you against him, just a subtle motion, but enough for him to hit that sensitive spot inside you and make you moan, prouding him immensely.

“Is this good?” he asked nonetheless, his voice a low, sensual whisper, ”Just tell me how I can please you, I’ll do anything.”

His teeth grazed the delicate skin of your neck playfully, and a groan escaped him as your walls tightened around his length, making his fingers twitch into your flesh. He felt you throbbing at his fingers, so he kept up the pace just as you seemed to be enjoying it.

“Don't stop”, you breathed, your hips stuttering against his touch, the heat pouring into your core the more he rubbed your clit. You moved instinctively on him, chasing your imminent high. You tensed, legs straining, unable to get enough of him, even knowing the moment wouldn’t last forever.

“You're amazing,” he praised adoringly. “Will you come for me, mon cœur?”

His gravelly voice washed over you like summer heat, making your skin tingle with comfort. You melted into his embrace, sank even deeper into his lap as he met you with his own rhythm, not enough restraint left in him in response to how lost in sensation you were.

Your body gave out as another powerful wave overtook you, licking down your spine. You felt that familiar pull deep inside that signaled your release. You exhaled, your head falling onto his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair as you finally let go. “I’m coming.”

It was the most peaceful and sensual climax you’d ever experienced. Verso's steady fingers slowed, becoming a gentle presence, replaced by a soft yet insistent pressure on your hip, encouraging you to move with the wave instead of being overwhelmed by it. It wasn't ecstatic, it was better. Lasting, satisfying, and deeply fulfilling, your spasms didn't go into nowhere, but wrapped around him, feeling him more intensely than you'd ever felt anyone before.

Verso guided you through your continuous twitches, drawing out your orgasm as much as you were able to give, rocking you on him, holding you close as soft sounds of pleasure escaped you – sounds that alone could keep him satisfied for nights to come. If only he could make you feel like this always, swept up in emotion, in what you felt for him and what he did to you. Only when your body slumped against his, entirely spent, did he finally pause to let you rest. A steady, satisfying throb still lingered under his fingers.

You gasped against his heated skin, barely able to speak. Luckily, Verso found the words for you: “There’s nothing like a petite mort, non?” A kiss touched your cheek as he gently rolled with you, never breaking your connection.

You blinked, looking up at him in the dim glow of your lamp. His eyes were ablaze, a wildfire of emotion, contentment, desire, and love. All the feelings that made up a great, tragic love story.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” you gasped truthfully, your fingers exploring his sides, making him shiver ever so slightly.

He smiled. “I aim to please.” His face lowered to press his lips to yours, and a surprised, overstimulated sound escaped you as he rolled his hips into you, seeming to tease your essence out of you, feeling the air around you, heavy yet comforting, like a weighted blanket pulled over you.

His movements were instinctive; he couldn’t resist you, this soft, welcoming abyss that was you, more tempting than anything else in his life. Everything else, even his problems, faded away. With you, anything felt possible. And that was what fueled his longing to be connected to you, to sink into you again and again.

“Verso –” you gasped, and to him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. You saying his name like that.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath.

“Yes,” you whispered in return.

His strokes within you were were as deliberate as his earlier touch. Intense, precise, each thrust aimed to finding the spot that made your breath hitch. There was so much sensuality in the way he moved that you would have happily drowned in it. Skin rubbed over skin, so hart did he press himself against you, only to hover over you after, gaining better leverage, and sink himself back into you so purposefully that you saw stars. 

The noices you made, those breathy, sinful notes, and the sound of skin against skin only drove him further, made him lose what little restraint he had left. He didn’t notice how his pace quickened, he only saw you: the expression on your face, the parting of your lips, your closed eyes… “Look at me,” he said, the gentle command surprising you so much that you obeyed without hesitation.

It felt as if he was looking right into your soul. And you couldn’t look away, you didn’t want to. The world around you blurred. You pressed yourself as close to him as possible, your legs firmly anchored to his sides. You reached for his cheek, only for him to take it, place it next to your head and intertwine your fingers, his gaze never leaving yours always looking down at you, always showing you how much he adored you. 

He had planned to take his time with you, to spend the whole night spoiling you, perhaps even coax another petite mort or two from you. But he hadn’t counted on the overwhelming pull your body had on him. He had given in to it, to his shame. And now, he was ploughing into you, completely out of control of his own body, chasing a high that should really be another one for you. He vowed he would make it up to you as the night went on. For now, he focused on your every reaction, trying draw out as much pleasure as he possibly could, ere he would surrender to the temptations of your clenching walls around his cock.

You could feel it, his passionate movements becoming less controlled, more erratic. His rhythm faltered as tension overtook him, his brows furrowed in desperate effort.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, your body moving with his.

His fingers tightened around yours. A strangled sound escaped his throat, a great declaration of love on his tongue that he could barely hold back from escaping, and a delicate shiver washed over his body. “Merde,” he groaned. He let go of your hand, pulling out of you in one fluid motion, leaving your center with a strange emptiness, as if he had simply painted over you, given you a new normal.

Shifting his weight above you, he leaned on one forearm, stroking himself, his eyes fluttering shut, his breath ragged against your skin as his release landed on your stomach. You appreciated his still quick thinking, while your mind was a complete blank, you didn’t even thought about the end of it all.

Verso’s heart was still hammering in his chest, long after the moment had passed. Just the sight of you was enough to keep his pulse running wild. He leaned down to capture your lips, careful not to touch you with the hand he hadn’t yet cleaned.

“Sorry for the mess,” he said with a sheepish grin, glancing down at your glistening skin.

You let out a soft laugh. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

He settled beside you on the mattress, holding his hand in the air as if it were poisonous, while you reached into your nightstand drawer and pulled out two of your linen handkerchiefs. Shortly after, he pulled your blanket over both of you, beckoned you closer to him, and you snuggled into his warm embrace.

“You’re hot,” you murmured, drawing little circles in the hair on his chest, the heat still radiating from him, his skin damp with the faintest sheen of sweat.

“And you’re soft,” he replied quietly, content, placing a kiss on your hair.

There was a rustling at the foot of the bed, then a small meow. Soleil jumped onto the mattress and strutted over the blanket with big, wobbly steps, toward Verso, where she pressed her tiny head against his chin. He grinned as he stroked her little body, and once again, Soleil purred in his presence as if she were in love. 

“Here she comes, making sure I know how to share,” you sighed in amusement, scratching her head. She blinked at you, as if to tell you she still liked you too, even with the attractive man in her bed.

“Don’t tell her, but for me, you still come first,” he murmured into your ear.

“Careful, she can hear you.” You hummed, smiling blissfully. Slowly, though steadily, your dilemma crept back into your awareness. There was no turning back from what you had both committed to now. You still had a chance to keep it secret, but you didn’t want to end it anymore, you couldn’t.

“Verso?”

“Yes?”

“What you said earlier, about knowing how I feel, that I had the desire to experience something I didn’t think I ever could. Why did you say that so quickly? Does it have something to do with you being a Painter?” You continued the thought: “What can you do?”

His fingers gently caressed your upper arm while he seemed to think for a moment. “You mean they didn’t tell you about our powers?”

“They did,” you answered, “but probably just as twisted as whatever they told you. What I know about you is that you create worlds, with real, free thinking beings, and that’s the reason why everything between us is so complicated.”

“Mhm,” he acknowledged, “and what I know about you is that you can influence reality with what you write. They tell us that your kind can impose your will on others, even write over our canvases, if you wanted to. That’s why you threaten our way of life.”

You scoffed. “I’ve never heard of a Writer who did that.”

Verso continued petting Soleil, but his hand paused for a moment. “Is it possible?”

You thought briefly before replying. “I don’t know. Among us, there are people with very different levels of strength. Usually, we just write, and our works aren’t even always meant to be manifested. The more advanced among us can take on and execute conditions, but only on ourselves.” You straightened up and leaned over him. He listened intently. “We simply write something, and then,” you touched the ink-black stubble of his beard with your fingertips, “we take the words into ourselves. They disappear from the page. Whatever we wrote, we inherit for a short time. We don’t create anything, we merely take it on.” You ran your fingers over his chin, then smiled. “I do it with music.”

Soleil let out an indignant meow, she was no longer the center of attention. Verso blinked, surprised. “So you’re writing sheet music and then – absorb it?”

“And then I play it, one time,” you concluded.

“That’s a shame, you write beautiful music.” He played with a lock of your hair. “So you’re an advanced Writer?”

You shrugged. “I have my talents.”

“That you do.” 

You both grinned.

“And then, well, there are the truly powerful among us,” you continued without reservation. He should know what your kind could do, he obviously had a warped idea of your powers. “Maybe they can write over your canvases, but that’s only possible, if at all, with blood.”

“Blood?” he asked, surprised.

You nodded. “Blood is the strongest ink in the world. Especially when it’s your own that you write with. Whoever among us writes a book in blood and manifests it probably won’t come back out of it. If they even make it that far before they bleed out. The less powerful we are, the more blood we have to use.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“Noooo,” you insisted quickly and at length, “I am not nearly powerful enough, it is so dangerous. Only the most powerful among us write in blood. But they actually can, if you interpret it that way, change reality.” You traced invisible letters on Verso’s chest. “They can, for example, heal wounds. Whether they can really influence your works, I don’t know. I’m not really that educated about blood sacrifices.”

Verso made a thoughtful sound. “I guess on both sides, they tell us stories to turn us against each other.”

“So is it also not true what they tell about you? That you can create worlds like gods?” you asked, curious to learn more about his powers now that you had explained yours.

He pulled a face. “It’s not wrong. But we refrain from using words like that to describe it. We basically do the same as you, describe worlds in the form of art and bring them to life. We can enter our canvases and live inside them for a certain amount of time.”

“And can you really trap people in there, if you wanted?” You suspected that was the piece of information that was spread to scare your kind.

Verso’s eyebrow lifted questioningly, confirming your guess. “We definitely can’t do that.” His gaze softened. “If I could take someone into my painting, I'd love to show you this world.” 

“So you created one of those worlds?” The thought that he had done so made you uneasy. Your whole life you had been taught that Painters broke the laws of nature by creating what shouldn’t exist.

“I only ever painted one canvas,” he replied, raising a finger, “where I left a piece of my soul to give it life. I was a child back then, and it was a family project, really. Clea helped paint it, our parents sometimes came in with us. Only Alicia preferred to spend time in her room.”

“A piece of your soul? What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I think you think it means. We leave a piece of our soul in the paintings we want to enter.” Verso’s eyes drifted upward to the ceiling. “Powerful Painters like my parents can create many such paintings. Others… not so much.”

“I see.” You let yourself sink down onto his reassuring chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. Parts of what you knew about each other were true, parts were false, the kind of miscommunication that led to class wars like this, likely born from jealousy, envy, and materialism. In the end, it was art that connected your clans, really.

“I would like to see your painting some day… but I would rather listen to you play the piano all the time.”

His chuckle vibrated through his chest. “And that is why I…” he paused.

You pressed yourself closer to him, wrapped your arms around him. “It’s alright,” you whispered, “I love you, too.”

[mingisaddctn]

mind over matter | s.mg

Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay

the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.

I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.

it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.

mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.

so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.

mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.

twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.

you almost forgot about the cat food.

in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.

holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.

"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.

"what? why?"

"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.

you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.

"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.

you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.

how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—

meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.

you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.

but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.

the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.

all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.

"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.

it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.

"yes."

"are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"yes."

"'then... how should we do it?"

you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.

your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.

"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."

and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.

you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.

but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.

one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.

shit, you moaned.

he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.

placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.

oh. OH.

how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?

"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.

"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."

"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.

before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.

"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.

you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.

"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.

mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.

"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.

feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.

kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.

while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.

without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.

"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.

holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.

the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.

the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.

"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."

OH. FUCK.

you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.

"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.

you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.

"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.

"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?

"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."

"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.

with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.

the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.

you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.

mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.

"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.

the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.

"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"

"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.

it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.

you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.

falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.

"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.

scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."

he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.

"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.

"yeah, you better be."

[abyssalzones]

can you tell us about your interpretation of the better world universe!!!! especially curious how stan/mystery trio works into it

hell yesssss I definitely can. ABW is maybe my favorite niche gf thing and probably the only "AU" I care about but that may be due to the fact that it's an AU that exists in the canon and we know so little about it. so it has an established foundation that you're left to fill in the details with yourself... it's like a poke bowl to me. you can put anything in there

and since I felt like it here's a bonus pic of them living their best lives pestering ford

[explanation-y stuff under ze cut because I got very longwinded]

as for specifics of how I see everything working out, there's a few key points that establish why things happened differently from canon, the most important being:

Stan agrees to hide journal #3 somewhere

Ford reunites with fiddleford and they begin working together again

both of these are already confirmed in canon, the first being the most obvious "schism" between timelines. literally everything in ABW is the way it is because stan made a different decision. kind of crazy in terms of its implications: I feel like that moment in the basement is a really good example of how stan gets so few opportunities to shape her own life (while ford is in the picture...) because of her role as the 'black sheep' twin. it's not exactly a premeditated decision to push ford into the portal, it's her acting on feelings that have been bubbling unaddressed under the surface for 10-something years at that point, and only then does she have any sort of power over the "narrative" of both her life and the story itself, something that from her pov has been ford's story. and in the canon timeline, she says no.

so like, what the hell made her say yes in ABW's timeline? this question kind of haunts me because I feel like it has to be entirely dependent on what the inside of stan's head looked like at the time. it's possible something influenced her, but overall I think it's more interesting if ford did and said all the exact same things up until this point and it really was entirely dependent on stan's decision internally.

so stan says yes, goes on a big trip to the other side of the world somehow, and buries journal 3 somewhere probably never to be found again. yay! but, uh, going on a trip like ford was suggesting would... take weeks. that would leave ford alone again. and not to have my established thoughts informed by new material or anything but bill did give him 72 hours.

so, next order of business: how in the fuck would ford convince fiddleford to rejoin him??? I'm unsure between journal 3 and tbob's information how ford may have tried to reach out to him but it seems like fiddleford was pretty adamant about staying away from that guy, out of guilt or fear of bill/the portal or both. I don't think logically it would just be a matter of ford calling him enough times or finding out where he lives- and I think that's kind of getting away from the point of why ABW is the way it is too. if stan is suddenly making decisions that are influencing ford's life, I think it would be similarly interesting if fiddleford also possessed some unique autonomy in this scenario.

aka I think ford got fucked up badly (possibly involving losing an eye) and fiddleford found him half-dead while trying to burn his house down. [mabel voice] romance!

to clarify: I don't think fiddleford is obligated to take care of ford. a major part of him leaving the project was finally making the decision to leave a situation that was hurting him, that he'd been staying in entirely because he still cared about ford and felt on some level he could still help him (which gets broken with "I don't need you!") and I think that's a very reasonable decision on his part. but I also do have to think about all the times ford has been "the hero" in situations where fiddleford ends up hurt and helpless because of something traumatizing. I think it'd be fascinating to see that reversed and have fiddleford actively making the difficult, messy decision to take care of that guy even when they're on miserable terms. and so begins like a solid week of these two desperately trying to look out for eachother in a nightmare scenario where one of them probably needs to go to a hospital + keeps getting possessed off and on and the other is going through the worst addiction/withdrawal cycle of his life irt the memory gun. yay! (part of the reason this even works To Me also is heavily informed by the lack of secrets: if fiddleford is actively dressing that guy's wounds he can't really keep it all to himself anymore. crushingly intimate perhaps...)

stan gets back eventually. such is the context of this pic

from there it's a nebulous grab-bag of things I think could happen up to the foundation of the institute.

how do all three of these incredibly fucked up individuals get along? well they don't but then they do.

how do they get bill out of ford's head without performing amateur brain surgery? idk. my best guess is a fiddleford and stan bonding trip into ford's mindscape that potentially helps answer the first question. possibly utilizing the memory gun. shrugs.

what's up with that one picture you drew of parallel fidds holding the memory gun up to ford's head? well. okay that one might or might not be something that actually happened but the idea was just that ford is coping badly with a few specific things and I liked the idea of fiddleford "holding onto" something for him to remember and work through later when he's ready to deal with it, it's an interesting reversal of how he's normally more of a memory sink.

from the point in canon about them stabilizing the portal so that bill can't use it to get into their dimension anymore onward, I think it just becomes a matter of them living the lives they could've always had in canon without realizing it. hence "a better world." some cool tidbits I like to think about:

stan gets to transition much earlier (late 1990's perhaps?) and probably starts going by "lee" instead

she's also the institute's CMO and is mostly in it for going on business trips abroad with ford. and the money. obviously.

the institute probably also legitimately changes the world on a sociopolitical scale outside of just interdimensional travel since their research renders them uniquely untouchable and all three of them are trans (I'm cartoon logic-ing a little bit here just let me have this one)

ford is the eccentric bill nye esque face of the company, fiddleford is the backbone. that isn't to say ford doesn't do anything as I think he'd always moreso be in it for the science than the fame (though it is nice to be more than comfortable financially) but it's an open secret fiddleford keeps tabs on literally everything, he's still very security-oriented.

the northwest family now has a more prominent ongoing rivalry with the pines family that could be very funny to think about. they've taken all the LOGGING JOBS with their damn SCIENCE

part of the reason I thought ford should lose an eye is because I think having him wear an eyepatch would be a neat way to parallel stan's "role" as mr. mystery visually! stan wears an eyepatch for no legitimate reason to keep up appearances as a schlocky tourist trap host, but it also alludes to her being more than she seems under the surface. ford's eyepatch does sort of have a legitimate reason to exist, but he also could just wear his glass eye and it would probably be less "conspicuous." he chooses the eyepatch instead because it's part of his image as Stanford Pines, Founder of Oddology, and because it keeps him safe. there's also a little residual scarring there from damage to his eyelid/tarsal plate which could easily represent him hiding the more "damaged" aspects of himself under his successes. ouch.

I'm unsure if ford and stan would ever feel comfortable getting back in touch with their parents. I know a lot of people go that route with fan material but I don't think they should have to. I think they're much happier now having healed the rift between them on their own and getting to live successful lives for themselves, rather than to prove something to their father.

that being said I do think fiddleford gets in touch with emma-may and his son again and they end up on better terms with time and a Lot of effort. tate's family is now composed of his father, mother, "uncle" ford (in the ye olde gay closeted sense of referring to your dad's partner as an uncle), and auntie lee, and I like to think they go out on trips to the lake together often :]

also ford and fiddleford tie the knot unofficially (in the eyes of the government anyway) in 1990. owed to stan somehow getting "ordained" as a rabbi. don't ask me how.

the pines twins start visiting the institute from a younger age than they do irt visiting stan in the show-- but they're only permitted to come along on heavily-supervised interdimensional excursions once they turn 12. cue antics!

anyway, hopefully this extremely longwinded and loosely structured mess helped answer your question. I like ABW sooo so so much you guys

[torglives]

on pangi and abandonment

awhile ago, on stream, lukey threw around the words commitment issues when talking about tr pangkey. it is more likely than not that he was talking about his own character, but a lot of the audience assumed he was taking a shot at pangi. which is very… hmm! not in a bad way, i think it just goes to show how easy it is to misinterpret his actions if you aren't clocked into the way he navigates his relationships with people.

he obviously has issues, but with his attachments they stem more from (i'd argue entirely from) his deep-rooted fear of abandonment rather than commitment.

pangi is passionately committed to people. this has never been something he's tried to hide or keep secret. it's something that cc pili mentioned during an on-stream ooc conversation about pangili/pangkey (watch that whole conversation, actually. he's nailed pangi's character very well. and his own obviously but that's a given. i love pili) -- "there is you who, i feel like you have separation anxiety to some degree. i feel like you're very "it's this person, or nothing." ... kind of like a ride or die situation." -- he brings up also, why this was such a point of contention between pangili1, because they had very different attachment styles, with mocha tending to lean towards avoidant attachment.

in the clip linked, a chatter says "abandonment issues hmm i wonder why (lifesteal)"-- and that's the perfect segway for me to drag ls pangi back into the spotlight. yay! i've said this before, but lifesteal and pangi's relationships on the server/throughout its history are probably one of the most important keys to really understanding him. on lifesteal, pangi has never truly been anyone's first choice. he devotes himself to people, to causes, but no matter how hard he'll ride or die for those things, it is never reciprocated. at his core, he is very lonely. he's not wanted in the way he wants to be wanted, but gives it his all anyway. it always ends the same way, he always ends up the same way: alone. quite literally abandoned.

of course this translates into the realm, and pangi finally finds someone who, to him, is what he's been looking for--his ride or die. his person, as much as he is theirs--in pili. it's pili or nothing, and this is the first time it's been mutual, so he plays it by ear. he lets it grow into co-dependancy willingly, because to be wanted is everything he's been looking for. but pangi is no stranger to abandonment, and during their first crisis, when pili says 'i don't trust you anymore,' pangi shuts down. he tries re-working over that open wound that pili left in his (VERY BRIEF) absence, because it's how he's learned to adapt. they, of course, come back together. and then pili dies, brutally, in front of him, with clown in mind. in february, after mocha died, i wrote this in an (outdated) (so i won’t link it) thought post:

pangi, as a character, is unable to linger. he feels the need to jump from thing to thing, never giving himself the proper time to sit and process. when his worst fear is proven, when he is shown that he isn't wanted or needed somewhere--he shuts down the part of himself that was trying to be wanted and needed. his way of 'staying on top of it all' is just adding another layer. he buries it under something new, and tries to forget about it and barrel onto the next thing. it never works.

which applies here too. i think it says everything i could even say. pili dies, and pangi is once again alone. despite his commitment, despite pili’s, it wasn’t enough.

and then ros and aimsey come along, and they’re kind to him--they get stuck in the null together, and nobody else can understand that outside the three of them. they both say things like "it’s us against the world," and "the three of us," and this works for awhile. pangi has people he can devote himself to, but this time it’s different, because there’s a disconnect--there’s a part of pangi that they don’t understand, the parts that more or less belonged to pili. pangi gives his all, but more importantly, his trust, but he’s never been great with words, and there’s no intrinsic understanding of violence like he’s used to, so it causes fallout. pili and pangi shared a similar mindset, that’s part of what made them work so well. for pangi, pili had aspects of home. ros and aimsey, despite how much they care, don’t understand that culture. ros breaks his trust, once, and to him, that’s abandonment. that’s always been a tell-tale sign of it. that’s betrayal, so pangi refuses to linger. he kills at the ball, takes the brunt of their anger, and leaves, because someone must leave. someone always must leave, so he does.

aimsey finds him a few days after, and says: "why did you think we hated you? it’s not like you do one thing that makes us upset and suddenly you’re the worst person in the world." -- but honestly, that’s all pangi knows. it’s all, or it’s nothing.

he still cares about them, so much, but it has put a permanent strain on their relationship, on his trust for them, because they don’t understand each other in the same way. he cannot be truly devoted to them, because he has been shown that they are not truly devoted to him. and that’s not their fault, not at all, it’s simply a gap in understanding. it’s something that pangi doesn’t understand about them, or them about pangi.

what’s that quote? "if you give me the slightest hint of abandonment and withdrawal, i would outdo you."

i could go into detail about the intricacies with his relationship with lukey too, but if you compare them to the points i’ve listed i’m sure you can draw the conclusions yourself--why they work so well, aligning in areas that have been missing.

people are very familiar with his hate, because it burns bright and is unavoidable. people are less familiar with his love, just as passionate, because it is easier to overlook, it’s less common. he is undoubtably devoted to those he hates and those he loves, and is consumed by how he feels for both of them. he will always commit, but is terrified at the slightest taste of being left behind, of being a second choice. of not meaning to others what they mean to him. again. it’s all, or it’s nothing.

[ijenoyou]

A new day to love.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

warnings: not really i think ? lol just fluff and a bit of angst

note: yay another follow up of Ojos lindos !! i’m glad yall like it :3 if anyone has a suggestion for this storyline or if it’s a suggestions for another quino work im all earsssaa!!, remember english isn’t my first language so yeah if there’s any mistakes plz don’t mind them hahaha

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen Joaquín. His mother and grandmother took him away on a short vacation after he was discharged from the hospital. But it’s also been a while since the two of you have had a chat. You couldn’t face him, a part of you still angry at yourself for not being in full control of your own powers.

It felt all too overwhelming.

You lost sleep over it, training hard late at night until your body gave up.

“Why so quiet, uh?” Sam’s voice full with curiosity brought you back to reality.

You shifted on your seat at the kitchen aisle and sighed. You tried to avoid Sam’s eyes that seemed to follow every move you make, feeling your body start to feel physically uncomfortable at the question.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” You spoke, your voice came out with difficulty. “I was just dissociated, that’s all.” You tried to give him a smile but failed.

Sam lifted one of his eyebrows, giving you a questioning look. You hated when he did that, because at the end of the day, that would make you crack under pressure and tell him everything each time he did that.

“Is it Joaquín?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes found yours.

“No.”

He sighed. His own mind coming to terms about the fact that you were too stubborn to understand none of Joaquín’s accident was your fault. Or anyone’s for that matter.

“The kid’s coming back today. Did you know?”

Your whole body tensed up, your attention directed towards Sam, who was in front of you while holding an iced glass of water.

You nodded. “He texted me.” Your eyes traveled down Sam’s frame, letting them rest on his hands, following the droplets of water on his glass making your throat burn with thirst.

“A little birdie told me you’ve been avoiding him.”

You scoff after hearing him and stood up.

“Is that little birdie Redwing? You know how I feel about that thing.” You heard Sam laugh at your words.

“Joaquín himself told me, he said you’ve been ignoring every text he sends, I just wanted to know why.”

But, did you fully know why? The first thing that made your brain turn into a fuss was the accident but deep down you knew there’s more to it. And at that exact moment it all came crashing down to you.

What if your power got out of control and you ended up hurt them both?

Hurting Joaquín.

The thought sent a chill down your spine, making your skin explode with a coldness sensation all over it. Sam took notice of that, he saw the way your arms filled up with goosebumps.

“I can’t face him.” A second passed.

“Why?”

“W-What if I hurt him? What if I hurt you?” Distress plastered on your face. “I’m weak and to make things worse I can’t fully control what I do— it was me who failed Joaquín!”

He shook his head and stood up from his seat and walked towards you, he held your forearms in his palms and gave you a little squish for reassurance.

“You didn’t fail him— you won’t hurt us, you won’t hurt him.”

“You don’t know that.” You said in a whisper, instant tears filling your eyes up. “I don’t even know why am I so scared of myself. Before meeting him I didn’t even care of what had become of me after Tony’s death.”

Sam couldn’t believe your words, too stunned at them. The only thing he could do was offer you some sense of comfort, so that’s what he did. He gave you the tightness hug you’ve had since meeting him.

You didn’t know how to react.

You were used to people feeling sorry for you, a situation that became a routine after your father’s funeral. So it wasn’t exactly new what was happening but it felt nice. Sam was a new father figure to you, and you were grateful because if it wasn’t for him you would be living a very unhappy life under Pepper’s roof, living a foreign life with her and your half sister.

“Hey guys, I’m back!” Joaquín’s voice appeared from behind you and Sam. “Oh! And my family is here too!” Before you could leave Sam’s hold, two more voices began talking.

“Capitán América! Es un placer volvernos a ver.” An elderly woman spoke up and you finally let go of Sam.

Sam smiled and nodded. “The pleasure is mine, how was Las Vegas?”

“We loved it! isn’t that right mom?” She turned to another woman. After a few seconds they noticed you standing behind Sam, almost as if you were hiding from them— from Joaquín.

“Ms. Stark, right?” You nodded. “Oh! Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti” She began walking towards you and gave you a very tight hug that caused you to lose air in your chest. Assuming that’s Joaquín’s mother and grandmother, your mind began spiraling. Was he really telling them about you? Did they know you were avoiding him?

“Okay mom, let her go.” Joaquín said while gently taking his mother away from you.

You were about to speak when Sam clapped his hands loudly and smiled.

“Why don’t I take mom and grands on a tour around the base?” He asked them, making the two women smile with joy. Joaquín’s grandmother interlinked her arm with Sam’s and began walking away.

“So…” Joaquín trailed off. “Why are you avoiding me?”

You bit your lip and sighed.

It was sudden, the way you lost the ability to speak what was on your mind, it made you feel crazy. Why did Joaquín made you feel that way? You didn’t like him like that.

Right?

You felt him shift next to you. You ran your fingers through your hair to try grounding yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You finally dared to look at him in the eyes. “I’ve been overthinking a lot of things these days you were gone.” He softly nodded and you continued. “You make me feel a lot of new things and it scares me.”

He dared to step closer to you.

You could feel his warmth the way you did when you first met him.

“Why?”

“What I hurt you? What if one day my powers overtake me? Quino I’ve grown used to this, to us but I don’t what you to end up getting hurt because of me.”

He let a tiny gasp out of lips and got even closer to you. Joaquín thought he was turning crazy, because in what universe would Y/N Stark be confessing she cared about him— the way he cares about her.

“I don’t believe for any second that you would hurt anyone, or me.” He softly spoke as he reached for your hands. “You have the most beautiful soul anyone has, don’t even doubt it for a moment.”

His hands traveled up your arms just for them to rest at your jawline, he was holding your face in place with a steady grip. That action made your cheeks start filling up with color.

“I know what I’m getting into if that’s what you’re worried about.” He spoke while getting even closer to you, to your face. “Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí.” You laugh at his words and nod.

Because it was true.

When you saw him for the first time, you could already tell you would become very fond of him really fast. And that thought became even stronger when he was at the hospital with you taking care of him. You wouldn’t trust another person to help him heal. Even the doctor thought the same, he surprisingly gained his strength back in an incredible speed.

It was quiet for a few moments.

If you focused enough, you could feel his heart beating right through his palm, letting the beat sting your skin. As if that was your way of know he was alive.

With pleading eyes, his own face began reaching for yours.

“Stop me if you don’t—“

Right as you were on verge of kissing him, his mother’s voice appeared again.

“Mijo! Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela.” She said excitedly while looking down at her phone.

She then lifted her gaze from the device and saw the way Joaquín held your face with gentle hands.

“Mom!” He separated from you with a huff. “We were in the middle of a conversation.”

She laughed at his son and shook her head. “Right. What a lovely conversation.”

[ ]

You were now walking towards the exit next to the Torres’s family and Sam after you offered to make dinner for all of them. Sam was chatting with both women behind you and Joaquín while he stood at your side, leading the way.

His grandmother took notice of the way his hand would brush yours while walking, too shy to fully hold it. She smiled and prayed for his grandson to have the courage to do it and when he finally did take your hand in his she celebrated inside her own mind.

When all of you reached the Torres’s car, Joaquín turned around still holding your hand.

“Quino, please call if anything happens.” His grandmother took a step forward and smiled, he nodded his head while letting go of you for a brief moment to give her a very tight hug.

“And you, Mija, take care.” She gently said while tucking a strand of hair away from your face. “Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato.” A smile appeared on your face, Joaquín’s grandmother gave you a wink and hugged you.

After you and Sam said your goodbye’s to them, the both of you decided to step away from the Torres family for a moment to let them have a chat before they leave back home.

“I assume you and pretty boy are okay now, uhm?” Sam said with that cheeky smile of his.

You blushed at the same time your head turned towards him and laughed.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

He tilted his head to the side and pushed you with his shoulder.

“I heard his grandma gave you the bendición.”

Now your face felt hotter.

“Stop it.”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“Alright Captain obvious, stop that or I’ll paint Redwing pink.” You said while fixing your gaze on Joaquín.

“Do it.” Sam simply said and shrugs. “Ladies like pink, you’ll be doing me a favor.” Now it was your turn to push Sam, but you did it with too much force you didn’t know you had, causing him to loose his balance and land on a bush that was next to him.

“Torres get your girl!” He shouted from the bushes.

But Joaquín, instead of helping him, only took out his phone and captured a picture of the way Sam’s feet could be the only thing seen in the bushes. You were captured laughing on the ground, noticing the struggle Sam had while trying to get up.

—

Es un placer volvernos a ver - It’s a pleasure to see you again.

Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti - My Quino wouldn’t stop talking about you.

Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí. - Since the first time I saw you, I knew you were made for me and I was made for you.

Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela - Look at the picture I took of your grandma.

Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato - My Quino never stoped talking about you, and I hope it stays that way for a long time.

[twistedpink]

Manipulative!Jade?

Maybe he plays mind games with reader until the roles suddenly switch around on him??

(btw I love your writing 💛, but I 100% just googled adjectives until something clicked. Didn't want to use the same things)

I WENT A LITTLE OVERBOARD

Your weird manager tm (an eel man in a chiseled man-man suit) has no real right to ban your boyfriends from the workplace, but you do see what you look for, and as a observer it is exceptionally easy for Jade to point out missteps. Dress code and volume are two of his favourite policies to call out- But the boyfriends never mattered, they’re just wallets and traps for the big fish now. Your new and improved passion project is figuring out why this guy hates you!

Manipulative!Jade that makes you drinks off of those “secret menus” in front of customers who want it after rejecting their order, no matter how made up it is or how often you deny his “friendly gifts”. You could say (to his face!) that you’ll never eat something he’s made for fear of whatever the hell he did to it, but he won’t stop. He likes to see you flip between the choices, that face you make is to die for <3

Manipulative!Jade that’s probably not officially certified for this gig- But that’s exactly what it is, a gig, and if he can fry an egg that’s really all you need for this “fine establishment”. He could do better, a lot better than this high turnover satellite joint. He’s the longest standing employee here, so if the creep can feel it he’s probably high off nostalgia. (At least that’s what your coworkers say) You know better, you know him and the actual hard on he gets “dissecting the scum of the earth”. You felt it, the last time he kissed along the column of your neck in his too-clean car. Promising you a ticket out of here that’ll never come.

Manipulative!Jade doesn’t put the effort into lovebombing or being the white knight, you’re too smart for that. This game you play is between the two of you. Not some victim that he shapes (he could find someone for that anywhere), you’re different. Not quite special, just different. He’s obsessed with your fight- biting against his fingers when he tries to ease them towards your mouth, crushing his sensitive inner thigh beneath your heel.. At times he thinks you’ll take the chance to bite his tongue off when you kiss. If you want it rough so badly, then he’ll play rough til’ your heart’s content :)

In the end you did find out why Jade “hates” you (yay!), he’s a massive idiot in love (awh! Or the closest he can get to it). At least you’ve found a partner that can’t be kicked out, and you definitely don’t miss the other guys you dated, you’re just not sure how to get rid of this one? Or even if you want to? He’s practically ingrained himself into your brain, and maybe that was his goal the whole time. Maybe you’re just into massive weirdos, but that’s for future you to deal with. (Hopefully with the help of an engagement ring! Maybe then you’ll have enough money to get out of this hellhole) <3

[alkelkha]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter four

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

contents&warnings! : wc: 4.0k | post season 2 | lower-case indented | angst | heart to heart | just kiss already 🗣️ | non-sexual intimacy | fluff | mentions of them sharing the same bed | mentions of isha | these losers can't stay serious | yes reader has plot and yes i'm going through with it | not beta read | yes i am making this up along i go | author's note: i'm finally back after a month... don't come after me though! i'm literally in the middle of moving to a whole different state (not my choice).

❛❛ APOLOGIZE WITH FIREWORKS ❜❜

a careless toss of an envelope with this week’s paycheck slid off the desk. your eyes followed the movement. “you’re slacking, [name].” 

you’ve been slacking for the past two weeks. that’s how long it’s been since you and blue fought. you thought that she would come around and the two of you would hang out again like nothing happened, but of course, it didn’t. you were given straight radio silence, you even tried visiting her at her workshop and home. nothing.

she was your best friend and you hurt her to the point she’s shut herself in. was she even in there? was she ignoring you? did she run off? did she hate you now? did you just ruin everything? you couldn’t tell, it was like she locked herself in. this was killing you. 

every since she left it was like all the good things she brought with her did too. the endless laughter between the two of you, the satuation of the world. because of her you finally felt safe, your loan sharks finally stopped bothering you.

sometimes you think you see her (which you don’t). anything blue made you think of her, clouds too. you can’t bring yourself to eat the blue raspberry candy. 

the truth was that she was your good luck charm.

“do you want to lose this job?” big don’s voice rang in the office, snapping you back to reality. lose this job? this was the only job that could help pay off your debt that didn’t involve selling yourself, beating others half to death, and stealing. 

“i’ve been kind to you. i gave you this pussy job so you could pay me back with my own money.” he leans forward resting his clasped-together hands on the desk.

“but i see something,” the tall man raises from his seat. your breath got caught up in your throat and your heart quickened its pace. “…someone has made you sloppy. has taken your attention off of what is really important.” you knew what he meant and you couldn’t deny it. 

you have gotten sloppy with your work, clocking out a little bit early, and coming to work late more often— that was you when you and jinx started hanging out, but since jinx and you have gotten into that fight all of it got worse. “that new girl…” your eyes shot from the ground and straight to big don. the way he referred to her made your stomach turn. was he going to send his goons after her too.

“don’t—“ without thinking you stepped forward, you were about to walk up and slap him. good thing your mind caught up with you. yay, no bullet between your eyes!

“don’t what?” big don shot back at you, he stopped pacing and walked over to you. “run her out of flosnum? tie up the new girl in town? have some of my men give her a good beating? or maybe i’ll make you do that…” gulping at his implication you step back. you knew big don was sick, but surely not that sick?

right?

towering over you, two heads taller his dull dark eyes look down at you, his eyes make you feel so insignificant. you were nothing but a mere worker bee, “[insert sibling] may have escaped off to bilgewater. ixtal? ionia? who gives a fuck anymore. what matters is that one of you is here. one thing stands. your father’s debt.”

“get your act together or you’re on your own.” he then grips your hair, and with a harsh tug he pulls you closer to him. he smelt of cigarettes and mangos, “once you’re on your own i won’t care how and what you do to pay off the debt. sell your body for all i care.”

you left his office and went back to working at the bar. overtime. work for two weeks with no pay as punishment, which was mercy considering you've been waterboarded other times.

though you were starting to consider being waterboarded instead.

how long has it been? she can’t remember, there was no point in counting hours or days when she was in this state. 

her chipped painted nails scratched off her cuticles to the point they bleed. curled up in the middle of her room stuck in an unforgiving daze. a haze that consumed her mind and filled it with thoughts that pricked her brain as if they were needles.

she fucked up. again. and she doesn’t have the guts to try and fix it.

not that there was anything to fix, you were done with her. you hated her. you saw her as insane as soon as you saw her.

she was an idiot to show you that side of her. what made her think that this would be any different? danger or not, flosnum was not immune to her effect. 

her blue chopped hair now grown inches past her ears but not long enough to touch her shoulders, her bangs terribly long, and the purple dye worn out. the bonsai tree on her bedroom windowsill half dead. the irrigating bear under her bed where its voice is too far to catch. 

jinx. that’s who she was. she couldn’t fight it anymore. running from it has been deemed impossible even when she’s a sea away from piltover and zaun. 

metal and wood clanking against each other.

she could hear it, the small huffs, exhales, and sniffles. the light-weight pitter-patter danced around her.

isha.

jinx was greatness to isha. a haven. a symbol. someone worth protecting.

jinx could feel the vibrations from the floor bouncing back to her curled-up position. she had her knees to her chest and hid her face.

she couldn’t bring herself to look up. she was scared that if she looked up she would see her. if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do.

all those times she told off sevika that jinx was dead, isha was the one that kept the image of her alive. not a symbol of destruction— no longer just a loose cannon but a hero. 

powder was the one that died.

she thought that maybe if she could start over, it would all be from the beginning.

no jinx. just powder. the more she stayed on this tropical island she was reminded that she couldn’t be powder. 

to be honest, jinx liked isha’s version of jinx. the version that isha would play games, watch battles fight each other, fall asleep to her overly-dramatized exploits, graffiti on walls, and stargaze with. 

the careless dancing footsteps morphed into cautious ones and the steps were slightly heavier. 

step. step. step.

these footsteps didn’t seem as if they were sneaking up on prey, still, jinx refused to raise her head up from her knees, her eyes stayed shut. 

just ignore it.

she repeated those words, a mantra that got her through a handful of her episodes. unexpectantly, light fingertips grazed her shoulder, unsure if they could go further in the contact. 

hallucinations couldn’t touch her.

a low gentle voice “blue.” jinx felt all of her defenses fall. how pathetic that’s all it took.

you crouched down behind her. jinx’s back faced you, wearing only a pink tank top and wool shorts that showed off the blue clouds on the right side of her body.

the only reason you were able to get in was because you found a foolishly placed spare key sticking out from under a ceramic pot with a wilting flower.

you were tired of waiting.

“i’m sorry.” trying to shove down the heat rising to your face, you swallow. there was nothing more you hated than apologizing, which was ironic since you did it quite often. normally when you did it, it was out of fear or common courtesy.

sincerely apologizing on the other hand? the thought of you being the person in the wrong felt like a punch in the gut, but none of that mattered. 

the only thing you wanted right now was your friend back. “i’m so sorry. that day at the beach when i sighed it wasn’t towards you.” jinx was still. “that day was perfect and i ruined it. i made you feel that i didn’t enjoy it. i did! it’s just—“ you sucked in a breath before explaining.

“…i have a hard time living in the moment, i’m always thinking about my next shift. that i have my shift in this many hours, i’ll have to deal with rowdy customers in less than a day after, i have to pay off my debt.” she didn’t answer, it felt like you were talking to a brick wall.

“ever since you came into my life you have been what i look forward to.”

silence is all she gives you. not even a hum of acknowledgment. “blu—“ you couldn’t finish the nickname because of how shocked you were to see jinx finally turn her head towards you. you can only see her side profile due to the position the two of you are holding. 

the saturation of her vibrant red-violet eyes is now exhausted and dull. an alarm rang in your head. scrabbling from your knees you made it to in front of her to get the whole view of her. you needed to see all of her.

jinx’s closed-off position, her days-old makeup, unkempt hair, and lightweight. her head a bit more raised so she could look at you better as your eyes roamed around her body. 

her eyes.

her eyes were so doe and dull, the manic that she usually held in her eyes was nowhere to be found. this was the most vulnerable you’ve seen her yet there were still so many walls. 

she looked horrible.

you did this.

“[name]…”

her hoarse voice made your heart ache. gulping, pushing down the guilt. you slowly and carefully take her hands into yours. “let’s get you cleaned up, blue.”

the first thing you did was take off her makeup with a wet piece of cloth. you had no idea how long she had been like this, it looks like she had that same face of makeup for almost a week, probably more.

her cheeks were tear-stricken with dried-up mascara and eyeliner. her purple eyeshadow was worn out along with her smudged lipstick.

you washed her hair in the sink. she sat on a chair, her head leaned back as the faucet ran through her blue locks. your hands gently messaging her scalp, and then detangled everything with a brush.

the two of you didn’t talk at all. sitting on a stool your wrist moved in circular motions, washing her back.

she felt herself slowly come back to reality. the way you were being so careful with her as if she was worth being gentle to. were you doing all of this just to torment her?

surely you weren’t faking the affection in your touch? you wouldn’t do such a thing. you couldn’t. 

she felt her eyes burning up.

she felt the rough texture of the cloth exfoliating her skin, your hand carefully leading its way to her tattooed arm. your movements slow not wanting to have her pull away from your touch.

jinx lets out a ragged breath, louder than the scrubbing of her skin and water droplets. that was the first breath she let out since you came to her. your movement paused and went even slower. gentler. 

that’s when she bursts into tears. 

you froze up a bit hearing her choked sobs, “oh hon…” jinx’s shoulder shook as she leaned forward, away from you. her sobs only got louder and louder. saliva collected in her mouth and her face turned a pinkish hue.

putting aside the cloth you took her shoulders and pulled her back towards you, you wrapped your arms around her neck, and your head was right next to hers. “tell me what’s wrong.” you whispered in her ear, you didn’t bother hiding the tremor in your voice.

“please, talk to me. did i make you upset again?” you plead for her to talk to you.

“i’m sorry.” her sobs so broken that her voice cracks as she apologizes. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” she just shakes her head repeating herself over and over again.

“shh.” you say rocking the both of you side to side in an attempt to lull her sobs. “it’s okay, there’s nothing you need to apologize for. we both messed up.”

“i’m such a child, i ruined everything!” she hiccups, her sobs only worsened. she leans on you like a child seeking comfort.

“stop that. you ruined nothing, okay?” you tried to keep your voice firm.

“i made something out of nothing again and i pushed you away and now you hate me—”

you cut her off, “if i hated you would i be here right now?” 

“you will once i mess up again.”

sighing, you pinch her cheek. “it was a silly little fight, we got through it.”

jinx winces at the pinch but she doesn’t pull away instead, her cries lessen and her face scrunches up a bit. “what if we get into another fight?”

not letting go of her cheek you kept speaking, “we’ll get through it. even when i get irritated or mad with you, i’ll always come back to you.” she turns her head and you pull away to give her some space to move.

her eyes were bloodshot, her pink irises sparkled as if she was begging you to confirm your words. “you’re my best friend, things like this will always pass over, i promise.” 

jinx’s sobs were no more and what was left was her small sniffles as you got back to bathing her.

getting back together with you made jinx realize some things.

number one: you would never ever ever ever leave her no matter what! 

this meant she could do anything without you leaving her. like sleeping together in the same bed and kicking you off.

number two: the two of you were practically made for each other!

she has been clinging onto every second of the day and you welcomed it with open arms. (well other than the times she’s stalking you, but you don’t need to know that!) has she gotten more childish with you? maybe.

it was your day off so per usual you were with her, instead of rotting together at her workshop the two of you went out for ice cream and window shopped. the two of you walked side by side in the blazing heat, jinx’s arm hooked on yours. 

usually, she would complain and complain in this weather and end up with sunburns which you had to tend to. these days she wouldn’t, it was like she grew up with flosnum. she wore a mismatched bikini top and stockings, low rise shorts black and pink shorts, and black boots with pink laces. “new style?” you raised a brow.

“just matching the weather.” jinx licks the dripping cotton candy ice cream from her cone. the undercity wasn’t hot like flosnum. it was humid at best but mostly cold. hell, she felt the warmth of sun on her skin more on her first week here than she did her whole life in zaun.

going on your route you spot a jewelry vendor, something catches your eye. mindlessly pulling away from her to go check it out jinx furrows her brows, she follows behind you. your eyes were on the turtle trinket. the jewels on it sparkled like no other.

stupid.

jinx’s finger hooks on the loop of your bottoms and pulls you closer to her side. she bends over a bit to get a better look at the stupid trinket. “oh come on, toots, you don’t need this. you already have that ugly turtle pendant.”

you smack the back of her head and she whines. “my necklace is not stupid!” you defend the bronze hanging around your neck. “besides, i wasn’t going to buy it….” your eyes trail to the price tag, the sight causes you to frown. “way too expensive anyway.” you turn on your heels and walk away from the vendor. 

she watches you walk away and back to the turtle trinket. it was ugly. tacky too. you wouldn’t look good in it.

jinx shrugs and catches up with you, she loops her arm with yours licking her ice cream once again with a stolen trinket in her pocket.

number three: she missed chaos.

because of that, she’s going to blow up at tonight���s festival. she’s been working on it the day after you bathed her, tucked her into bed, and fell asleep in bed with her. which was six days ago.

don’t worry. don’t worry. she’s not going to kill anyone. she was done with that, instead, these bombs were going to make a teenie tiny little mess.

today’s festival was in honor of the day flosnum successfully defended itself against bilgewater, many lives were lost due to the battle. which was an incredible feat now that jinx thinks about it.

anyways, that doesn’t matter! what matters is that she wants to ruin it. 

it’s the most jinx thing she can do.

somehow the paradise was infinitely more vibrant under the dark sky. maybe it was the twinkling stars, the glowing plants, and the fairy lights. everyone gathered in the streets, adorned in tropical garlands. the two of you held a stick, the tip burned bright, sparkling. 

normally, jinx’s mind would be on how gorgeous your smile was, but today she was too excited to even think properly. she was too happy to fuck the celebration up. she had already planted the bombs. 

the air was filled with a sweet and fruity scent of exotic flowers. your sweet laughter echoed in her mind finally snapping her out of it. “what’s got you so happy, blue?” she asked, pointing out her dumb smile.

jinx dropped the stick, “follow me.” she grabbed onto you forcing you to do the same and follow behind her. 

there was so much of everything. people, noise, lights, smells. you canvas through the streets and she takes you onto her workshop’s rooftop. though her workshop was placed in a shady alleyway, the view she had up top was breathtaking.

her rooftop was decorated with random cut-up fabrics, unfinished projects (aka junk but she won’t let you call it that), and colorful lanterns. the stars painted the night sky, the jinx sat on the rooftop ledge. being the more cautious one you tried not to, but she forced you anyway.

“we’re best friends, right?” jinx slowly turns her head to you, your eyes are on the ground, watching the people below. 

“i sure hope so,” you snort. realizing that it wasn’t the right time to joke you backtracked, “of course we are, the best of friends.” you didn’t look back but that didn’t make your response any less sincere.

her red-violet eyes trace your side profile. you were pretty like this, with the colors of the lanterns illuminating off of you. the color blue graced your brown skin and the coils of your hair. it was almost as beautiful as when the sunlight would kiss your skin.

jinx wasn’t sure when it started. “it” being when she became so attentive to you. maybe, it was the day she first saw you behind the counter of her now workshop. maybe, it was the day she crashlanded and you saved her.

the topic of the day she crashlanded was never brought up between the two of you. jinx wasn’t sure if you were aware that she knew.

jinx should’ve forgotten about you that day, her vision was hazy and smoke filled her lungs— her mind shouldn’t even have registered the details of you. but she did.

the key detail she remembered?

it was that stupid bronze necklace.

the ugly piece of metal that is still hanging around your neck. it looks as if it was handmade. well maintained yet specks of chipped-off green paint on the turtle’s shell.

“good,” jinx smiles at your answer. her hand reaches into her pocket and your eyes follow, her fist closed around not letting you know what it is just yet. “because i wanted to give you something.”

your eyes finally lock with hers. “i’m not good with words. i’m not good with my actions either.” her vibrant eyes shift away from yours, but she forces herself to keep eye contact with yours. “i fuck shit up. always. as soon as something good comes in my life it’s taken away, by my hand or something else.”

jinx couldn't find the right words, she didn't even know where she was going with this. “i ruin everything,” she laughed bitterly, her eyes searched yours to see if you were annoyed by your senseless rambling, but you didn’t. you listened, waiting for the next words to come out of her mouth.

“i’m jinxed. it’s in my name.”

jinx looks down at her hand, her fist is holding onto the mystery item tightly. then her fingers hesitantly open up her fist, revealing what’s in the palm of your hand. you look down. this feeling in your stomach, it flips and flutters. “blue, is this—“

“jinx,” she didn’t let you get a sentence in. “that’s my name.”

jinx...so that was blue's name. oddly enough, it fit her perfectly. she didn't look like a sasha, cassie, hannah, or kate. for someone as cool as her she should have an equally cool name.

“that’s so cool!” your eyes twinkle, filled with excitement, completely ignorant to the significance of this moment.

when the words left your mouth jinx left hundreds of degrees hotter. a warmth blazed through her body. no one has ever had this type of reaction to her name.

“so, you’ve been cool you’re whole life, huh?” you scrunch up your face in mock jealousy. “cool hair. cool talents. cool personality. cool name. you’re just a package, aren’t you, jinx?”

why did she like her name coming from your lips so much?

trying to hide her flustered state she puts on a cocky front, “enough of how cool you think i am. are you going to take my gift or not?” she dangles the trinket in front of your face. “you stole it.” you blink at her unamused. still you took it from her hand. “says who? you think i can’t afford something like this?” she tilts her head, raising a brow. 

“then what’s this?” you point to the tag. 

she looks at it and grumbles. after pulling it off she then put on a faux innocent smile. “what’s what?” seeing how your unamused expression didn’t waver she sighed in defeat. “i just wanted to do something for you, you deserve tiny luxuries like this. maybe it could bring you some luck too. a lucky charm.”

her words managed to make you loosen up. your face softens. “thanks, hon, but i already have a lucky charm.”

jinx’s squints her eyes at you, “wait, you do?”

"i'm talking about you, jinx."

jinx, a lucky charm? how ironic. se had always been the cause of trouble, never the solution. when she did try to find one it only made everything worse. but here the two of you are. you hailed her as your lucky charm. a good omen.

she lets out a bark of laughter, she laughs with her full chest. all of this was too surreal it was making her head spin. 

POW POW POW

with distant bangs a cloud of red, then purple, then green, then blue. the town square exploded with a flurry of colorful dust. the dust danced in the sky and fell back down onto the cobbled ground as if it were snowfall.

oh right. jinx forgot about those.

the two of you whip your heads to the noise to see the mayhem going on. 

their faces being painted with the colorful dye. the locals dance and twirl along with the ongoing blasts of the bright vibrant powder into the air. children rushed trying to catch the falling powder, some even making angles on the ground.

your eyes snap wide with amazement at the view, “oh my gods!” no way in hell were you going to miss out on something like this. you carefully get off the rooftop ledge and pull jinx with you. 

“get your ass up, let’s join the fun!”

screams, panicked voices, and people trying to take cover, that’s what jinx expected. not the sound of flosnum residents’ laughter and cheers. her plans to cause chaos failed.

she really was a jinx.

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed @velvetinkbym

[deafsignifcantother]

new awlins library

♥ summary: just a cute little thing of alastor liking a deaf librarian yay ♥ relationships: human alastor x deaf reader ♥ word count: 1.1k ♥ notes: silly alastor, alastor pining, reader is shy and doesn't interact with people, reader has a crush on him too lowkey, customer favoritism ong

Alastor watched from afar, his eyes peaking out from over his book.

You were replacing the flowers in the vase on the front desk of your library. Your hands moved delicately, putting each flower in one by one. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the sentences before him, his pupils couldn't resist dilating at the sight of you.

He moved chairs so you weren't in his view anymore.

After finishing your task, you turned, and your eyes scanned the lobby to see what other decorations you needed to fix. Only for a second were you oblivious about his sudden seating change, but when your eyes landed on him, you smiled softly. The back of his head was not as well brushed as the front, and when you had greeted him that morning, you noticed how tired he looked. The time was 6am, right when you opened. He waited outside the door in the cold for the moment you'd allow him in. So then he sat, half-asleep and very distracted, trying to spend as much time in your presence before starting his daily routine. He had started doing this frequently, to the point where you began placing a black coffee by the table he'd position himself and scurrying off before he could try to return it. The first time he took a gulp of your drinks, he realized how easily you could have gotten away with poisoning him. How alluring, he thought to himself with a smile.

Obviously, you would never poison him. You loved having him around; he was a valued customer with an attractive face. He only ever picked up books from the French section, and when you realized he was running out of stories to read, you ordered a bunch of new ones. When he first noticed this, he smiled and eyed the new batch.

You don't show this particular interest to any other customer; you're pretty shy, hesitant, and withdrawn—the other employees are the ones who interact with them. There's a language barrier between you and seemingly everybody else. Besides paper and pen, you are considered a 'struggle' to communicate with, and you know there's nothing you can do to prevent that.

It's just the way things are. But Alastor actually puts in effort to interact with you, waiting outside the library every time you have a morning shift.

✣

You pick a French book from the shelf that is obviously out of place. Nobody touches the French books except him, but is this from another person? Honestly, you feel it's more likely he put it there just to mess with you. You smile, inspecting the cover and the pages inside.

A gloved hand reaches for the book, and your eyes follow the hand up to that same handsome, smiling man. His eyes twinkle with mischief, his mouth open in a silent laugh.

He tucks the book into his armpit. "Goodness me, I must have put it in the wrong section!"

In an instant, your heart starts beating faster than ever. Stuck in place with your eyes wide, Alastor stares at you with a bit of surprise. His eyes dart all around your face, and as he tries to come up with an explanation for why you're looking at him with such shock. Did he scare you? Do you... recognize him from somewhere?

But no, your heart is racing, and your mind is scrambling to process that a man here knows sign language. He has an accent, sure; he signs up high on his body, but with how unsure his sentences are, you know he needs to gain experience. He signs and is quite a loyal consumer; he's almost like the man of your dreams.

"No, no, no, it's alright." You sign with one hand before taking the book from his arm, and you place it on top of the others in your other hand. "Don't even worry about it."

"I do insist." His sign lasted more than a few movements. And then he puts his hand in front of you for you to place the book into. Truthfully, for a slight second, you considered placing your hand into his.

Your brain battles between continuing your work or indulging in this man. With an eyebrow raised, his eyes study you in a hard stare. You don't give in to his command and instead stand your ground, eyeing him back. The both of you are stuck with locked eyes. He pulls his hand back when he notices that you aren't budging.

"Now that I think about it," he starts, "I'd much appreciate it if you showed me where the correct section is!"

He's been in the French section many times.

You smile at him, a lopsided smile of adoration; there's no subtlety to whatever interest he has. So you bow your head sarcastically and turn away from him, walking past the shelves. He follows you with his hands tucked behind his back. He can't see the widening smile on your face and how you're practicing hiding it. He's rather charming, you can admit.

Not even checking behind you to see if he's following, you approach the correct section and place the book where it is meant to be. He raises his eyebrows when you glance up at him and try not to give in to his contagious, eccentrically bright smile.

"Fantastic, thank you!"

And again, the two of you stare at each other, waiting for the other to move. You want him to continue talking, to whisk you away from your job. He's waiting for you to ask his name or something else about him.

But you use both of your hands to hold the books in your hand against your chest.

Fine. He starts pondering his next move: does he end this interaction for today, or would it be better if he took a step closer to you?

He can't stop his eyes from glancing down at the joyous smile on your lips. He's making you smile; that's good. Perhaps that will be all for now.

He dips his head and presses a hand to his chest. You watch him and the way a strand of his hair falls into his face. His brown eyes land on yours. "And I will let you get back to your work."

You nod, your foot moving away from him before you pause. Your eyes go from his beautiful eyes to the floor with shyness. With a bow of your head, you begin to walk away, returning to your previous task. He straightens his spine and adjusts his sleeve before turning away.

Quite a success. What's next? He may try putting an English book in the French section. Or should he hide the books all around the library?

His everlasting smile grows at the thought. He's so excited to tell his mother about the interaction he's finally had. She's heard quite a lot about you.