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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

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Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity

Impurities

hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright

Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !

You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.

He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.

You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.

Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.

You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.

You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.

“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.

MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.

“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.

You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”

MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.

“Okay.”

Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.

MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.

One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.

“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.

“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.

“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?

“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.

“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.

Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.

Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.

For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.

Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.

“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.

With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.

“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.

“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.

You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.

You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.

“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.

Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.

“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.

Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems

Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.

He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.

“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.

“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.

His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.

“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”

You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper.

“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust. Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.

“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”

“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.

Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.

a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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emsgwenstan · 5 months

Text

Personal or professional?

Chap 4| chap 5| chap 6.

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, insecurity’s, aftermath of drunkenness, signs of anxiety- no self worth.

Note: mmmkay, so shit happens! Anyway feelings aren’t exactly admitted but Violet tells Larissa something important. No wonder I guess.

The early morning air seeped in through the stone walls and coated me in a thick layer of cold, waking up at sometime around 6am, I sat up slowly trying not to disturb Larissa. I was surprised at how solidly id seem to have slept even though it wasn’t for very long, i didn’t have nightmares and didn’t wake to any random pain my body decided It thought i should have either, the most surprising of all though was that i didn’t feel hung over. shuffling back i rested against the headboard and yawned so hard i might have dislocated my jaw and my eyes watered from how tired i am.

Just sitting staring out to space for a while trying to wake up, Larissa started tossing and turning frequently and it ripped me out of my trans like state, tilting my head to the side I watched as her breath would intake and exhale, pushing and pulling the hair that had fallen over her eyes, she lay facing me and I can’t help but shift down a little to prop my head in my hand and rest on my elbow. With a nimble yet ruined hand I tucked her hair away from her face and stared at her lovingly and for a while I stayed like that, all I want is for her to be comfortable and have a longer peaceful sleep.

After contemplating, I rose from the bed and retrieved my clothes from the arm chair while also finally taking in her decor, it was beautiful all the thick materials and trinkets, the large paintings and photographs that lined the walls, her aesthetic was a mix of deep rich colours with a lighter twist in some of the furnishing, all of it was utterly her, completely Larissa. Pacing quietly to the ensuite bathroom I looked at myself in the huge mirror and wiped the smudged mascara from under my eyes, in the reflection I saw she had a large claw foot bath and a walk in shower that was lined with different soaps, body washes and most of all hair products like, treatments with her toning shampoo and conditioner to keep her silver spun hair to perfection, it was so cute.

I was conflicted weather or not I should just keep on the pyjamas she lent me and wear them until I die or actually get changed, ultimately the latter was the chosen option. Exiting the bathroom I left the lended clothes in the designated Laundry hamper and made my way to the door leading back out into her office to retrieve my jumper and stoke the almost dead fire. My nerves were skyrocketing at the thought of the impending conversation that’s going to happen when she wakes up, I’m not going to cower and tip toe out of her home like a one night stand, not that we actually even went as far to have sex, but that’s besides the point. Suck it up Violet, deal with your own actions.

An hour and a half later Larissa woke alone in her crimson sheets, the sun fully risen and her dark curtains flowing the slightest bit from wintery breeze. Completely dazed at the sight she sat up and slid her feet into the flats she had beside her bed and stood grasping the satin tan coloured robe off the same arm chair as my clothes had rested on. Before making her way to the curtains, out the corner of her eye Larissa’s reflection from the wall mirror was what caught her attention, she internally berated herself with almost walking out looking the way she did, her little bedside clock read 7:46am and again she scolded herself for sleeping in. Quickly she shifted to something more presentable only her face and hair changed, her lips painted a blood red and eyes meticulously covered in natural looking eye shadow and mascara, her hair pulled into a neat low bun.

Drawing back the curtain, there sat on the balcony was me watching over the rail with my feet tucked under myself and a monotone expression washed over my face, Larissa didn’t hesitate to open the door and step outside. I knew she was there, of course, I could hear her, I sat in silence not really knowing what to say. It was a good minute of silence once she sat down opposite the small metal table. “How did you sleep?” Is what I came up with to break the quietness, even though I tried rehearsing what to say for the past hour and a half. “Well, and you?” She said almost if she had barbed wire wrapped around her neck preventing her from sounding sure. Ok so it’s like that. “Fine…” I began. “do you… uh- remember-.” I continued. “Yes.” She said hardly letting me finish. “Right…” I trailed. Another beat of silence. “Do you regret it?” She asked quietly. I paused really thinking about how to answer, I’m sure she did, regret it I mean- I don’t know… I’m kinda lost. “If you do then I suppose, but if not…” I started. “If not?” She asked actually looking at me, we had both avoided eye contact until this moment. “If not then I guess no, I wouldn’t regret it.”

Larissa relaxed into the chair and I was as stiff as a board, did she just basically say she wanted it to happen or am I reading into it too much? I looked back down the railing wondering why there were no students, it’s a Saturday, surely kids would be out and about. “I’m afraid I slept in to late to bid them all farewell, they all went home for the Christmas holidays.” She said as if she could read my mind. “And the staff?” I wondered. “Yes, them to, it’s just me.” Does she not have a family to go home to? Why would she still be here? I nodded at her statement as the cold wind started to pick up causing me to shiver, how she’s not dying of hypothermia because of her lack of layers I don’t know.

“I have to go soon, I need to go to one of the houses I’m renovating and polish a bench top.” I said tucking my hands into the pocket of my jumper. “Oh.” She said. Why does she look disappointed? I sat staring at her releasing that she is now in fact alone and will be for a while. It was always hard for Larissa at this time of year, no matter how much work she’d get done she still had to prepare and consolidate with others for the next year. I feel like saying could you possibly imagin spending all this time alone especially around Christmas, but I won’t because then I’d be a hypocrite.

“Would you like to come with me?” I asked not even registering what I asked until it was too late. “Oh I would want to be a bother.” She said. “You wouldn’t, no one’s going to be there, if your not to busy.” I said as if I was completely confident. “Sure, I suppose I can miss working for a day.” She said. Recounting back to the previous micro conversation I spoke again. “What time did they all leave? Surely we would have heard them.” Larissa quirked a brow. “I thought for someone who knows all about a house and buildings infer structure that you would know it’s not easy to hear through two and a half feet of stone.” She spoke with a hint of sass and a whole lot of tease.

I was taken a back at her new found tone. “Well then headmistress, do tell me what else you know about my job you seem oh so knowledgeable about it.” I quipped, sharing her mirthful voice. “Oh no I mustn’t continue, I might put you out of a job.” She smiled with her eye’s playfully glaring. “Oh shut up, don’t start something you can’t finish.” I said laughing, finally letting myself gradually come down from the nervous high. “You never know, I might know more than you think…” she said with a chesty giggle. “Fine, Larissa can you tell me what a Kimberly large is?” I spoke coming to a stand and towering over her sitting position. Nothing, I could see that all she could come up with was blank, nada, not a clue. “What in gods earth is that?” She asked after accepting defeat. I stepped away and walked back to the door, turning looking at her over my shoulder I said. “It’s a cutlery tray.” With the most innocent expression known to man. Well woman.

Larissa stood from the table with a smile plastered to her lips and headed back into the room as well. “Sorry for leaving the door open by the way, I overthought it because if I close it you wouldn’t know I was out there and if I open the curtains then you would wake up, but then I really didn’t think about how cold it is and I needed some air- so… sorry.” I said in a rushed voice. “Don’t worry about it vi.” She said in a sweet tone. “Ok well if I’m to come with you I’ll need to get changed.” She explained knowingly. “Right.” I turned on my heels and left the room to put on my boots and wait for her.

Stepping out into the room Larissa was in the most beautiful dress I’ve seen on her yet, even prettier than the one she wore to my house that time for dinner, it was just past the knee and was an adorable shade of pink that complimented her complexion, she had a matching coat that had fake white fur around the perimeter of the sleeve cuffs. I don’t even think of a snide remark about the fact we’re only going to someone’s house for me to work, I’m more worried about her getting it dirty and ruining the expensive fabric, but who cares I will always encourage her to look incredible, suitable for the conditions or not, if she’s happy I’m happy, I don’t think it’s physically possible for Larissa to not look good anyway.

“What? To much?” She asked wearily. “Absolutely not it’s stunning, just don’t get dirty now will you headmistress.” I said cheekily. Larissa rolled her eyes and adorned her gloves. Opening the door she looks back at her new desk again and smiles, we set off down stairs and made our way to the truck and drove down the nevermore driveway. “Are you hungry?” She asked. “Not really I don’t usually eat until lunchtime, but we can get you something.” I said. “No I’m ok, I just thought maybe you wanted something.” She said looking out of the passenger window. We sat in comfortable silence until we reached town, although I felt like I was slowly suffocating from my thoughts, terrible thoughts, horrible thoughts. I had to keep averting my side eyed gaze at her porcelain thighs, Larissa’s dress rode up and her coat fell to the sides of her gorgeous legs and my god. Keep it together.

Driving down a few back roads we arrived at the house, getting out I paced straight to the mailbox to get the spare key. Larissa followed behind and waited patiently for me to open the door, the house its self wasn’t overly wowing but it was quaint and homey, perfect for a younger family or older couple. “Ok wait here and I’ll go get my stuff.” I said exiting the house. Larissa took in the interior and thought it was sweet, charming in fact, she wandered through the empty halls watching her step on the drop sheets that lay on the floor, the walls were freshly painted with a light grey and the ceilings weren’t finished yet due to electrical issues with the lights, she walked into the first room she could find to take a moment to slow her rapidly beating heart, it turns out Larissa was quite flustered from the car ride too, and the morning in general.

“Larissa?” I yelled. I could hear her heals coming down the hall. “Hey, I got you these just be careful with your earrings.” I said holding out my pink pair of earmuffs. “Oh thank you, that’s thoughtful.” She said quietly as she slipped them on, her earrings did get caught and I tried to help her. “Here, let me help.” I practically launched myself towards her, I grasped one of the sides and tucked her ear in place trying my best not to hurt her. We were standing so close and my eyes wandered from the side of her head to her cheek and around to her lips, I slowly put down my hands and place them on her hips, I could feel her breath on my cheek. Kiss her, but remember Violet. Slowly I started to lean in, but as my eyes flicked up to see hers, they were already trained on me, in an instant I tense up and take a step back clearing my throat, now looking as red as a tomato.

I gave a shy smile and took in her appearance again. “You look cute.” I mimed, knowing how hard it is to hear with them on. Larissa also displayed a little smile with a light blush, she could hear her pulse in her ears clearly now and the butterflies in her stomach were going wild. I put on my spare pair of earmuffs and started the process of polishing the bench. Larissa watched in awe as it began to shine, but she wasn’t just looking at the material itself she also watch how my hands flexed around the machine and my shoulders moved in tandem with the actions. I could feel her eyes on me and I tried my best to not turn around.

Cutting the polisher off I spun on the spot and waved her over, I grabbed her forearm and pulled her to stand in front on me and place her hands on the machine so she could have a turn. What a stupid idea. My hands were on hers and I turned it on again continuing my ministrations, however the only thing I could think of was how her ass was pressing into my stomach and thighs, for a while everything was fine but when she turned and gave me her award winning smile and nose scrunch I just melted. Before either of us got hurt I turned the polisher of and took off my earmuffs placing them on the bench, Larissa did the same carefully talking them off her head, as I turned to face her again, Larissa looked at me for a moment then grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me, like really kissed me.

I was in shock but didn’t pull away- why would I? it was rough and urgent but fuck it was delicious, she was delicious. Larissa manoeuvred me to sit on top of the counter without breaking the kiss, I hopped up and fisted the sides of her dress and the plush skin that’s hidden beneath it, I felt her tongue lick at the the seem of my lips and with out hesitation I let her enter and explore my mouth. Her hands gently scratched at my scalp before she trailed them down the front of my jumper, her delicate fingers moving tantalisingly slow over my breasts as I grope her ass. Just as she went lower towards my stomach, I pulled back breathless with my eyes closed I, couldn’t see the look on her face as I did so.

Larissa stoped her movements and placed her palms on my thighs, she too was breathing quite heavily, the whole situation was so intense more so now that I pulled back, I didn’t want to but I can’t let her feel the parts of myself that I’m so ashamed of. Her thumbs stroke at my legs in a reassuring manner and her head ducked ever so slightly to catch my attention since I peeled my eyes open. “Sorry… um, we should get going now.” I said quietly it almost echoed through the empty house- it certainly echoed through Larissa’s mind, she was taken aback and so confused, but if I needed to stop, she wouldn’t begrudge me of that.

I quickly pack up my stuff and walked back to the truck in silence, safe to say I felt like shit, I don’t want to offend her in anyway because she’s perfect, beautiful, incredible in every sense of the word and I’m just… well, me. Turning the keys in the ignition and setting off again, I glanced at her fidgeting hands in her lap, hesitantly I placed my own on top of one of hers, Larissa looked at me directly as my eyes were trained on the road, my expression displayed a huge amount of guilt. She was watching me so intensely try to wrap her head around what’s going on in mine, I turned to her and really looked into her eyes as an apology, as a ‘it’s not you it’s me’ kind of look, she engaged the silent conversation with ‘it’s ok’ while also cracking a little smile. I returned my eyes to the road and never let go of her hand.

“Oh, see that house over there? It’s my dream home!” I said excitedly, my eyes lit up and my demeanour changed drastically. “That horrid, run down, abandoned looking one? I don’t even want to ask why.” She chuckled. “Look at it though, it has sooo much potential, imagine all of the work I could do to fix it up, it could be beautiful, and its would be massive on the inside.” I said, Larissa looked at me as if I were insane, to be fair if someone said they wanted to live in a shit hole like that I’d be pretty perplexed to. “Mm I can see that now…I suppose.” She hummed watching it fade from view, after a short couple of minutes we made it back to the work shop where I put away the truck and ushered Larissa to my personal car that stayed there overnight.

Without asking I went strait home in dying need of a shower and led Larissa to take purchase in the lounge room to wait, politely I offered her a drink in which she asked for a tea, I made it and placed it on the coffee table beside her. “Thank you darling.” She whispered smiling up at me once I straightened up. “I’ll be out in a minute.” I said leaving her to go to my room. Larissa sat in comfortable silence casually sipping on the drink, before she set it back down she took ahold of the poetry book that still remained in its previous place, as she opened it there were lots of little sheer sticky notes on the pages, only scanning through the highlighted ones there was one in particular she read over and over.

‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.

She is beautiful.’

Larissa kept going throughout the book to relise they were all pertaining to women, it gave her enough satisfaction to know that I did take an interest to woman and that she wasn’t the only one.

Out of the shower, I reapplied light make up and dressed in baggy casual clothes -because I don’t have anything else- and stepped back out into her presence, Larissa set the book back in place before I could see and stood up walking towards me. “Do you want me to take you back now? Or do you want to go somewhere or watch a movie?” I asked. “A film sounds lovely.” She said. “Would you rather out here or in my room?” I questioned. “Where ever you’d like.” She answered. I turned and motioned for her to enter my room, she took off her heels, shed herself from her coat and left it on the floor beside her shoes and sat on the edge of the bed.

I let Larissa flick through Netflix, she’d look at one, contemplate it, watch the trailer, then move to the next one, It wasn’t a bother, it gave me more time to unabashedly watch her. While her eyes were glued to the screen I inched my hand closer to hers and lightly fiddled with her fingers, observing red painted nails against slightly chipped pink ones, our hand were close in size but her fingers were skinnier than mine, ultimately shes skinnier then me in every way. So lost in deep thought my hand traveled up her arm and to her shoulder, then neck, then face. Larissa was doing everything within her to not move, she didn’t want it to end, she was so afraid that if she breathed to hard I would stop.

Snapping back to reality I didn’t pull away, I tried to embrace it, that I did. I grasped the remote in her hand and crawled slowly to straddle her lap, though I didn’t sit on her I mearly hovered, I’m far too heavy for her. Larissa kept her body still and only moved her eyes. “I dont know what I’m doing.” I said quietly, I had her face in my hands and peered deeply into her cobalt eyes. “That’s ok sweetheart, you don’t need to… but, what do you want?” She asked at the same level of voice. For a moment I thought of how to say what I want. “I… I’d like to-uh… I want to touch you.” I said sounding like an inexperienced teenager with a burning blush. “Then touch me.” She said, her pupils dilated and her voice dripping with seduction.

But of course Violet does something stupid and starts to have a minor panic attack. Larissa’s expression turned concerned, she slung her arms around my neck, pulled me flush against her and stroked at my damp hair. “It’s ok, your alright.” She cooed in my ear, my hands and thighs were trembling and burning from clenching the muscles in my legs to stop me from putting my weight on her. Slowly I pulled back. “I need to tell you something.” I said shakily, I know I have to, she needs to understand what the fuck is wrong with me. Larissa nodded and waited patiently for my breathing to slow and to take a pause to muster up the courage of what I’m about to say. You haven’t spoke about this for 15 years Violet, what makes you think she’ll care?

“I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about this but…” I took in another deep breath. “When I was 20, I met a man and we fell in love…” Larissa nodded for me to continue. “We were together for 3 years and by the time I was 23, we were engaged. We wanted to start a family before we got married…” I said, Larissa’s brows knitted together wondering where I was going with this. “So… we tried to have a baby, but after a while, it wasn’t working. I went to the doctor and I was told that-.” I cut myself off to restrain any and all tears. “I was told I couldn’t have children, that I’m infertile.” I said. Larissa thinking I was finished told me that’s ok and that she’s very sorry for how unfortunate that is. “It doesn’t change my view on you though Violet.” She said brushing the hair out of my face.

“But… he thought he wasn’t trying hard enough.” I continued, Larissa’s face and stomach dropped at the statement. “So, he tried harder, more frequently, longer.” I said flinching at my own words. “And when he got tired of it… he threw me away. He told me I was useless and selfish for not being able to give him kids, and then two weeks later he told me that he got another woman pregnant.” I said filling with a little bit of relief as I finally let it out. Larissa was utterly dumbfounded, she sat in shock hardly knowing how to comprehend what I just said. “That’s why I moved to Jericho 15 years ago.” I added. “And… since then, I haven’t- been with anyone else.”

Oh. She thought, this makes so much sense now, Larissa understands how this is an issue for me and considers how I must be feeling. “I’m so unbelievably sorry that happened to you darling. I’m so proud that you told me. But I still remain unfazed, I will not hold you to a different light because of your past, I do not begrudge you of something that has been done to you and happened to you… I promise, it actually makes me more akin to you sweetheart.” She said softly.

I took the opportunity to smash my lips against hers, so full of passion, so full of love, on my behalf anyway. Our teeth and tongues clashing together being completely in sync, the both of us let out breathy moans from the pleasure, Larissa grasped the sides of my thighs and pushed me down to completely sit on her, uncomfortably I did so and without her disrupting asking me to get off I stayed there. In a bound of confidence I pulled her flush against me to access the zip of her dress, she let me drag it down the expanse of her back and pull it down her shoulders, pulling away from the kiss I observed her bra clad breasts and my mouth practically watered from the sight alone.

She reached behind her to unclasp her white lace bra watching me the whole time, the slid the straps down her shoulders and removed it completely and tossed it to the other side of the bed. My eyes flicked down and her breasts were on full view, I brought my hand up to her chest and palmed them slowly, Larissa’s head lulled to the side and let her eyes flutter close. Her skin was so soft and so smooth compared to the skin of my hands, but she didn’t seem to care. I leaned in closer to kiss her shoulder then eventually up her neck and jaw. Larissa tugged at the hem of my shirt wanting me to take it off. I pulled back yet again and lifted it half way before I paused to meet her gaze. She nodded and I continued to strip it off.

My own red bra was displayed in front of her, Larissa’s breath hitched as she took in the sight, my blush returned and all I could do was cover my stomach. I wasn’t too phased at my own breasts and the stretch marks on them at this moment, from the way she was staring I couldn’t tell if she was repulsed or just looking, she removed my arms from in front of me and her sight lowered to my stomach, obviously if we are to continue she’d have to see but all I wanna do is put my shirt back on.

Larissa traced her fingertips along my sides and hummed in what seemed to be delight. “So pretty.” She muttered. “I’m sorry.” I said at the same time, she looked at me through heavy lidded eyes. “What for?” She asked. “Well I’m not as beautiful as you, I’m sorry that if you want to stop because of it.” I said. “Fuck no Violet. Look at you, you’re curvy and delicious, you’re so sexy my darling... Do you want your know my favourite part?” She whispered leaning into my ear. “Yes.” I answered. “These, and this.” Larissa’s fingers danced over the stretch marks of my breasts and stomach. Internally my insides were fluttering and heat pulled at the apex of my core.

“Can I take this off?” She asked referring to my bra. I let her remove it, as a little gasp left her lips I once again took the opportunity to kiss her again. I couldn’t stop myself from bucking my hips into hers looking for friction to grind down on. Larissa clamped her hand on my hips and roughly guided me back and forth across her thighs whilst simultaneously diving into my chest with her mouth, she latched her lips around my left bud and sucked hard causing me to arch into her more and throw my head back in pleasure. She didn’t forget to give the other attention either.

I got off her lap and asked her to lay down, as she did so I ripped off her dress that was still wrapped around her waist and unceremoniously tossed it aside. Larissa’s stomach was pale and soft much like her breasts all I want to do is mark and bite it, I sat between her parted legs and hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and rushed to get them off her long legs, I couldn’t slow down even if I wanted to, she’s like a drug or aphrodisiac that runs freely within my veins. Her pussy now on full display and her body at my mercy, I looked down at her, my own lust exuding and at that moment we both knew this wasn’t going to be sweet or timid, it wasn’t going to be gentle. It was going to be rough and urgent. It was going to be sinful and nether of us could stop it. I’ve depraved myself for far too long long and I can’t push her away.

Making myself comfortable on my knees and bending to level with her heat, I gave her one last look before latching onto her clit. The moan she let out was almost pornographic and only made my own pussy contract around nothing and leave me with ruined underwear. Larissa fisted the sheets beside her with one hand and with the other she gripped my hair pushing my face into her impossibly harder, she ground down on my face searching for more. I gazed through my lashes to view her blissed out face and kiss swollen lips, like I said, it’s not possible for her to ever be unattractive.

She made eye contact with me and slightly controlled her face more to clearly see through her hazy eyes. I brought my hand up to her entrance and carried on with my assault on her clit, sitting up a little I made sure she could see what I’m doing, I held up a finger, then another, then another, clearly signalling three. With those three fingers I wiped up her folds before entering every single one at the same time, she hissed and her eyes rolled towards the back of her head, the sight of her was just as pleasurable as what I’m giving her. “Fuck… oh fuck yes.” She moaned.

After her third orgasm she pushed me away from her overstretched and over simulated core, crawling back up her body I left red and purple marks on her otherwise untouched stomach and sternum. Larissa yanked me up to her face and kissed me again using her tongue to taste herself. “Your turn.” She growled flipping me over onto my back, Larissa undid the drawstring of my pants and shimmied them of my legs along with my underwear, I hadn’t even realised I used my hands to cover my stomach again, not until she lifted them of and kissed my palms and placed them on her shoulders. Larissa sat on my lap and used her nails to graze over my arms and sides, this was only the beginning, she tormented and teased for a long time before she couldn’t refuse the inevitable.

Panting out of control and sweating to high heaven, we lay side by side completely naked and exhausted. Larissa stood from the bed and walked into my ensuite with her hips swaying, I sat up wondering why she left. She’s probably touching up her make up and getting ready to leave. I thought, a melancholy feeling filled me and I reached for my t-shirt and slipped it back over my head. Hopping off the bed as well I pick up the strewn clothes and place them nicely on the end of the bed. I smiled at the thought of what just happened, Larissa was so beautiful with her smudged lipstick and mascara, the tremble in her limbs when she came, the way she looked at me when I came undone, even the little bits of hair that came loose to frame her face. Larissa was more than this though, she deserved more, something more domestic, more beautiful than a passionate fuck I suppose. Larissa deserves home cooked meals and hand holding in the street, she’s worth the efforts that a romantic relationship includes, like bathing together and eating together or having someone she loves’ chest to lay on. I think the worst part is that I know I’m not that person.

Larissa walked out of the bathroom with a wet cloth and looked at me quizzically. “What are you doing?” She asked. I stood back from the bed and cracked my knuckles nervously, avoiding the art work I stained her body with. “I thought you wanted to leave… I was just picking up your clothes so they didn’t get to creased.” I said looking to the ground. Larissa paced towards me grasping my arm and pushing me to lay back down. I followed her silent instruction but was confused as to why she started to lift my shirt again. “What are you doing?” I whispered. “Cleaning you up.” She answered. It felt like the air was knocked out of my lungs at her statement. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes, Larissa spread my knees and started to gently wipe away the accumulated arousal.

She sat folding the material continuously and cleaned me until she was satisfied. Her eyes moved to looked at mine and her self satisfactory smile faded once she saw my burning cheeks and wet eyes. “Oh what’s the matter?” She asked tossing the rag to the door way of the ensuite and cupping my face. “No-.” I stuttered. “No one’s…” Larissa’s brows raised trying to understand. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” I said chocking on my uneven breath. “Oh darling.” She said dragging my body up to hers embracing me tightly.

Larissa looked at me like I was the most fragile thing in the universe, I hated it, I wish I wasn’t like this. A while later we decided on a movie and snuggled under the covers, she stroked at my hair and giggled at the screen from time to time, I didn’t give a fuck about the tv, to be in this moment with her was so for filling and wholesome. I pondered for a second before letting myself ask the question. “Larissa?” I started. “Mmm?” She hummed looking down at me. “I was wondering if you would like to come away with me after Christmas?” I said hoping she would but trying to come to terms with the possibility she’d say no. “Yes.” She said with a grin. Oh. “I have to go to my parents houses, dads for the first week then mums for a week… if you’re not comfortable with that-.” She nodded enthusiastically and said. “Yes I will, what day do we leave?” I looked at her wondering why she seems so excited but continued anyway. “The 27th, my sister’s are gonna be there and my nieces, which is nice I haven’t seen them for a long time.” I said. Larissa agreed and was looking forward to it, and of course she started to make a mental list of what to pack.

For the rest of the afternoon we stayed in bed and went through countless amounts of movies and whatever snacks I had in my pantry. She sat in my clothes, in my bed, in my room, in my home, Larissa to me felt like she belonged there, like this is exactly where she’s supposed to be, because to be honest I’m really being to think she is my home, Larissa weems owns it all though, all the materialistic things I own from the things in my house to the clothes I wear on my back as well as my heart and soul and if she wanted me to I’d kill myself if she asked. I love her more than anything. perhaps it is more personal than it is professional, but that’s the tragic part isn’t it?

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar

@giogwensversion @sabraaabra

@readingtheentrails @readingtheentrails

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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halleyscomet14 · 4 days

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Hey, I'm not sure if your taking requests at the moment but if you are could you write a billie eilish fic, fem reader who struggles with ocd. I know everyone who had this, experiences this completely differently. For myself I'm constantly paranoid about germs and someone breaking into my house. I'm constantly checking if doors and windows are locked and hiding spots in my room where someone could hide just to feel safe, and making sure my room is clean 24/7 which gives me a bit of stability. I wash my hands alot, I hate touching door handles so I always pull my sleeve up to cover my hands. To make myself feel more safe, I tap an abject made from wood 4 times. I know that sounds stupid but in my mind that's the only thing keeping me safe. I just need some billie fluff, she reassures us that we are safe.

Thank you so much ❤️

as long as i’m here, no one can hurt you

relationship: billie eilish x female reader

warnings: panic attack, fluff, comfort, ocd

word count: 1816

summary: as a kid you’ve always dealed with ocd. one night when you come home from date night with billie, something’s seem off.

a/n: i’m not exactly familiar with ocd, but my roommate has it so she helped me write this! i based it off the things mentioned in the request and stuff my roommate went through. part of this story really happened in real life, and her (my rommie’s) boyfriend was there with her. shout out to my love lucija 🫶

ever since you were a kid, small details bugged you. whether it was someone not washing their hands after they come in the house, or jumping on the bed with their shoes, or even not double checking the lock, there was always something that bothered you. something that you just had to double check. when you were with your friends, it never affected them, really. but when it comes to relationships, where you share a house with them, you had to be extra cautious to fulfill your desires. you had to not double check, but triple check the locks, you had to make sure your partner was clean of germs, you had to make sure everything was in place for you to continue your day care free.

so when you started your relationship with billie, you warned her about your habits, and how sometimes you can be a bit overprotective. it was nothing too serious though! you were just looking after her anyways! billie totally understood, as she went through some mental issues before too. every time there was a reason to panic, billie would soothe you and make you feel okay.

it was day like any other. after days of planning, billie could get a day off to spend it with you. because of this, you guys decided to go to a restaurant, a restaurant that wasn’t too crowded because of billie’s status. it had been a very successful night, you and your girlfriend were having fun and you both were enjoying yourselfs as you eased into the conversation. you guys ate well, paid and got out of the restaurant. chatting towards the car, billie got the door for you before going behind her car to hop in. you were roaming through the glovebox looking for sanitizer, and when you found it you applied it all the way up to your wrist, rubbing it in thoroughly. then you turned towards billie, who was settling in to the car and offered her some, which she took. she knew now that you would have trouble holding her hand before knowing she’s free of germs.

the ride home wasn’t quiet, and you had a nice conversation. both of you were laughing after a night out; yet you were tired just wishing for a night where you could cuddle and fall asleep in each others arms. the car slowed down as you arrived into the driveway. you grabbed your stuff before opening the door and getting out of the black car. billie went beside you and held your hand as you walked towards the door. billie pulled out her key, and while both of you stud there by each others side (billie still trying to unlock the door), you let your head fall to her shoulder. billie pushed opened the door, and before you went in billie got up on her tiptoes leaving you a small peck on your forehead. you were immediately filled with love from her small acts like this, only making you blush. she pulled you in by your hand, and into house. she let go, walking in to take off her shoes before slipping into her soft slippers.

meanwhile, you also got off your shoes as you looked around. that’s not right, one of billie’s coats was on the floor instead of the coat hanger. it was summer, there was no reason to go out with a coat, so she couldn’t have tried it on. also she went out with a crop top. that wouldn’t fit her. you looked around to see if there was anything else. usually, your keys (which had a long string attached to them) were on top of the shoe cabinet, in a small bowl where other misc items where places. yet they seemed to be on the edge of the table and not the bowl. something was out of the ordinary. you looked through the door into the living room, where billie leaned onto the edge of the couch, texted someone. the bookcase wasn’t in order, and random books where placed on the floor in a stack.

something was seriously wrong. nothing was like how you left it. maybe it’s just a coincidence, you thought to yourself. “billie?” you yelled into the living room as you placed your shoes into their corner. “yeah babe?” she responded, looking up from her phone and to the left towards you. “did you check out some books before we left, possibly?” you said, as you placed both of your hands on your waist. billie looked towards the small bookcase, mostly filled with law books. “mhh, nope. why whats up?” she said turning back to you. you stared into the books in despair. “did your mom and dad come over to drop something off today? maybe when we were out?” you inquired. billie didn’t quite pick up on what you were in about. “no. they would have told

me. hey, y/n is everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head to the side a bit. “yeah. just wondering something.” you replied. you got out of the living room and went to the hall. you started walking towards the bathroom.

on the way there, you picked up the plastic bat billie had from an old photoshoot. you had convinced yourself that someone had broke into your house while you were away. you couldn’t comprehend how you could let such a thing, even after making sure everything is locked and closed. you took small steps, bat it hand. with tiny steps and a sharp turn you flicked on the bathroom light, making everything visible, everything but an intruder. you glanced around the room once more before exiting, not forgetting to close the light.

you made your way down the hall to the guest bedroom that was on the right of your study. turning on the light, your eyes searched the room for anything out of the ordinary to find nothing. you checked once more, around the blind spots and such. you held the plastic bat up high as you entered your study, the light was left on which was something you always check before you leave. something was definitely wrong and you had just proven it. the law book on the desk was opened. you entered deep into the room to see which page was on. the page was an old subject, you hadn’t studied since last semester.

still staring at the room you walked backwards. you held your bat up high, ready to hit whatever came you way. you slowly backed out of the room, until… “babe.” hearing the familiar voice, you quickly turned in fright. your acts were cut off as you met billie’s well known ocean blue eyes. you looked around you. putting the bat down, you let it clank against the ground. you make long lasting eye contact with each other. billie stood still watching your acts. she seemed calmed. your eyes flashed between the hall and her.

this felt too much. had you got something wrong. you felt fear. you felt your hands start to shake and your chest started tightening. you started panicking with the thought of putting your girlfriend at risk. you looked around the room in worry. all of this was probably visible. “babe?” billie asked you, her two hands went up to your arms, holding them. you felt her warmth as you hyperventilated. this happened from time to time, billie knew how to treat it. “baby?” she said a bit louder now. her hand went up to your cheek, lightly tapping it to get your attention. “hey… breathe with me y/n” she said, still looking up to you, into your eyes. but you were too busy making messed up scenarios. you finally looked back at billie when you felt her light touch on your arm, the rubbing motion got you out of your mind.

billie started gesturing at you to breathe accordingly. with her hand, she signaled where to inhale and exhale, as she did the exercise with you. you slightly calmed down with each passing moment. only to realize the panic you must’ve put your dear girlfriend in. everything was a bit too overwhelming at that moment. you knew that billie would be scared for you. it was the last thing on your list to make billie upset. you felt a tear run down your face, as billie cupped your cheeks with both hands.

“y/n…” she said, caressing your cheeks. your hands started shaking once more.

you broke down right there in her very arms. tears streamed down your face as you sniffed your nose in between. she held you, making you feel safer with small phrases such as “i’m here with you” or “you’re safe with me” or “nothings out of order”. everything she said made you feel a bit better in recovery from that moment earlier. she drew shapes on your back with her fingertips, the was she knew you like it.

“baby… you know nothing could have happened. we’re safe here. as long as i’m here, no one can hurt you.” she said running her hands through your hair. “it’s such and unlikely thing to happen. you don’t have to freak out. i know it’s hard for you, but just trust me you’ll be fine.” she says. you let your head out of her shoulder. still, you hic in between your sniffs. you stare deep into her eyes as she gives you a warm smile. you once again bury yourself into her shoulder, continuing crying. “y/n it really is okay. all of those things have explanations.” she says, reassuring you once more.

“i’m sorry” you murmur into her shoulder. she pulls you by your head and pulls you into a short kiss. “it’s okay, mama.” she says, smiling at you. she reaches both of her hands on your cheeks to wipe away your tears with her thumbs. “you don’t need to apologize. you did nothing wrong.” she continues. you smile back, cheeks burning as you feel how red it could be right now. you place your forehead on hers, closing your eyes. she pulls you in for a small peck.

later that they while you’re in bed, reading your book, billie comes in the room and leans against the doorframe. “hey babe, wanna try these fruit that finneas and claudia left by earlier? theyre something called starfruit or like carambola or something.” she says holding plastic bag. “i’ve never heard of them but they are amazing. living for them right now.” she continues. “oh they stopped by? why didn’t they come in?” you asked billie. billie turned to face the plastic bag. “oh, they left them while we were out. you know how finneas has a spare key?” she said as moment of realization hit both of you. “oh you’ve gotta be shitting me.” you say as billie starts to laugh.

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piss-pumpkin · 6 months

Text

🌹“Just as friends”🌹

(Older)Dipper pines x reader, Chapter 3 of Douce amere

~4.5k words

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Tw for those who need it- food/eating, several awful sex jokes 💀

You jolted awake. Pacifica’s alarm was loud, and she did not silence it soon enough. She rolled out of bed beside you, falling to the floor before standing up. “Food?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Got an extra tooth brush?”

”Yeah,” she muttered, voice hoarse. “Then food.”

…

Pacifica led you to the main foyer, where housekeepers and maids were setting up tables. Some held food, others simply face table cloths for people to mingle at.

“And you lied to me and said this was small and unimpressive,” you said, staring in wonder at the scene. There was a rather large dessert table, complete with a chocolate fountain and strawberries on sticks.

”Yeah, whatever I guess. It’s a little big if you aren’t used to better.” Pacifica showed you to the kitchen, where a cake of at least five layers was sat, completely iced in orange and pink frosting. “Anyway, there’s breakfast if you want it,” she said, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. “Are you a morning eater?”

You yawned, “Eh, I can be. What do you got?”

She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of strawberries, and started to wash them. “Pretty much everything,” she said, pouring her berries into the bowl.

You squinted. It was far to early to think about what you could possibly want, if anything. “I’ll just have what you’re having, I guess.”

Pacifica poured the other half of the strawberries into a second bowl, and handed it to you. “Let’s get out of here, it’s too busy.”

You started back upstairs with her to her room, trying not to get in the way of preparation. As you walked, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out as you ascended the stairs, you saw it was Dipper. You smiled.

“Dip is asking the dress code, he apparently didn’t bring anything fancy,” you laughed. “He wants to know if he can just wear his normal clothes.”

Pacifica smirked, “he can’t be serious, right?” She flopped onto her bed, and held the bowl of strawberries by her chest.

You followed behind, and sat down with her. “Man, you know he’s fucking serious,” you said, looking down at your phone and beginning to make fun of him over text.

”Well tell him we’ll supply him with something, I guess,” she said, looking at her closet. “You know I have guy clothes.”

You looked down and idly typed the message. “We’re making him wear a suit right?”

Pacifica smiled, “Yep. Tux, I think. probably bow tie?”

”I was thinking regular tie, I feel like that’s a better look.”

Pcifica thought a moment, and popped a strawberry in her mouth. “I dunno… maybe you’re right,” she pondered. “We could make him try both and decide which is better?”

You nodded, “sounds good.” You ate a strawberry. Quite sweet. You let the leafy tops collect at one side of the bowl. “So do you still like… like him?”

Pacifica looked up, “I mean… kind of. The same way i would after not seeing him in person for like, a year.” She pursed her lips, as if straining her mind for the thought. “I dunno. I think about him less when he’s away. But the feeling is still there, kind of?”

You nodded. Her feelings were a little different then yours, but the same sentiment.

“What about you, you still-“

”Yep. Awful, too,” you shook your head, eating another strawberry. You squinted your eyes, and sucked a breath in through your teeth, “I am absolutely down bad.”

“My condolences,” Pacifica sighed. “We’ve all been there

You laughed, “At least we agree he’ll look really cute in a suit.”

Pacifica threw her head back on the pillow. “Ugh, right? We gotta dress his ass up.”

You smiled, “I’m also curious about what Mabel is doing, I think she is making her own dress.” You plucked your last strawberry off its stem. “I think she made it in like, a night. She could be cooking.”

”Or it could be a disaster, and we have to find her a last minute dress.”

”That is an equal possibility, I think.”

…

Pacifica and yourself were waiting by the door as the party was starting. There were people, standing, mingling. Nobody interesting, not yet. Though by the way Pacifica was talking, you weren’t sure there was anyone interesting on the roster besides you and the twins.

Much to both of your surprise, Mabel’s dress was fine. Good, even, shocking as it was. She came in first, wearing a blue dress with a shocking amount of sequins for how little time it took.

Dipper followed behind his sister, dressed in nothing fancy, and looking rather out of place among the few guests that had arrived this early. You and Pacifica waved the pair over. Mabel bounced closer, running ahead of Dipper and greeting you both with a wide smile, “Wow, you guys look amazing!”

You pumped your fists in the air with excitement. “You too, I can’t believe you made that!” you exclaimed, looking her dress up and down. “You’re insane!”

Mabel giggled, and twirled in a small circle, letting her skirt lift and spin. “Just insane enough,” she laughed.

Pacifica snickered, “That’s highly debatable.”

Just as Mabel was about to retort, Dipper came up beside her, and leaned his arm on her shoulder. “It’s true Mabel, she’s right.”

Pacifica eyed up Dipper, “Yeah, Dip, hopefully you know you’re not going to be wearing that, right?”

Dipper sighed, “yeah, I know, I know.”

Pacifica looked to you, “We take him to get changed before the rest of the guests arrive?”

You nodded.

Mabel laughed, and hit Dipper on the back. “Alright, you go get prettied up, bro.” She smacked him once more before bouncing off of him, “I’m gonna get punch, and get a date.” With that she was off, as Dipper was giving her a mildly annoyed look.

You and Pacifica led him to the back, where Pacifica handed him a hanger with his clothes. “Okay,” she looked to you, “Y/n, help him if he needs it, change room is on the right, and I need to go greet people.”

You nodded, “Godspeed.”

”And good luck,” Dipper added.

And then you were alone with your just as friends date. “Alright, you get ready, there’s a tie and a bow tie, too, your pick.”

Dipper entered the change room, and closed the curtain behind him. “Mmmk,” he said.

You leaned on a wall, waiting. “Did you read ahead without me, last night?” you asked, idly looking around.

”No, actually, I wasn’t sure if we were reading it together, so I played it safe,” he said though the curtain. You could hear faint rustling sounds from the other side. “Are we?”

You nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, it’s book club.” You straightened your back against the wall, and tapped your foot on the ground. “Thanks for waiting for me,” you smiled, “Also hurry up.”

”I am hurrying.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “This is not was hurrying looks like.”

You heard faint grumbling from him before Dipper emerged from the change room in a suit. With a black tie. The one you had chosen… but he didn’t know that. You smiled, “Well, you look good, all fancy like.”

He adjusted the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs. “Uh- thanks,” he said, smiling softly. He closed the curtain behind him, and looked away from you, to the floor. “Y-you too, I forgot to mention earlier…”

You raised your brow, smiling. He was still looking at the floor away from you, so you moved in front of him, and leaned over slightly, forcing him to see you. “Why thank you,” you snickered. “I better look good, it took Pacifica all night to style me.”

Dipper stepped back slightly, face pinkish. “I assume she’s responsible for this, too?” he said, gesturing at his own clothes.

You stood back up tall, “I want to say you were a team effort, actually.” You took his wrist in your hand, and turned it over so you could see the sleeve. “The cuff links were my pick,” you said, tapping them. “Same with the tie”

Dipper instinctively moved is hand to his chest, and thumbed over the tie. “Well chosen, it’s really soft,” he said.

You smiled, spinning away from him and offering your hand. “I’m actually surprised you were able to tie it without help, I was ready to call Pacifica in to do it for you.”

Dipper took your hand, and gave it a slight squeeze. “I actually looked it up while I was in there,” he laughed, pulling your hand closer to him, and linking your arms.

You both started out to the main room, “God, that’s why you took so long in there?” you asked. You came to the foyer, which was now filled with a substantial amount of people, and you knew even more were set to come.

“Wow, lots of people…” Dipper said, trailing off. “Where did Mabel and Pacifica go?”

You looked around, taking in the scene. The tables you’d seen the staff setting up before were now filled with food, or set with chairs for dining and mingling. Gentle orchestral and piano music was playing, and several people were dancing a waltz. “Pacifica is gonna be busy for a while, she has to socialize,” you said, scanning the room for your friends. “And it appears Mabel had been lost to the party.”

Dipper sighed, shaking his head. “Of course she is, we’re not gonna see her for a while, are we.”

”No we will not,” you said, walking with him along the edge of the room. “I bet she’s looking for somebody to dance with,” you pondered. “Hey, we should dance.”

Dipper looked at you, curiously. “Y/n, neither of us know how to waltz.”

You took Dippers hand, gliding your fingers up his palm before lacing them together. “Come on, it can’t be that hard, right?”

His hand was sweaty, and his face was slightly red. “Y/n, I think you are seriously underestimating my awkwardness,” he said. Despite it, he let you lead him to the floor, where people were dancing in step.

”I’m sure your fine, nobody really knows how to dance,” you laughed.

Dipper closed his eyes and shook his head, curling his face into a perplexed expression when he opened them. “What the actual fuck do you mean?” He used his head to gesture around the room. “Literally everyone here knows how to dance, that is what they are all dancing.”

You sighed, still smiling. “Come on, all you need is rhythm, I think.” You placed his hand on your waist, and your in his shoulder. “I think this is how it goes, yeah?” You looked around, scanning the other dancers in the room. They were mostly adults and old people, all of whom looked rich. But they did have the same positioning as you. “Yeah, I think we’ve got this.”

”Y/n, I have no rhythm,” he said. You could feel the warmth from his palm on your hip. It was light too, like he was afraid of putting the weight of his hand on you. “Plus this is a rich old person song.” He was stiff, as if his knees were locked. The hand you still held was shaky, the vessel for his anxious movements. You rubbed your thumb over his to try and calm him. Or at least offer some courage.

“Then let me lead,” you said softly. You started to move, and pull him along to the music. You looked around and tried to mimic the dancing of others. “Hey, this isn’t that bad, you’re fine.”

He was still apprehensive, stiff. “I, uh-“ he almost tripped, stepping on your foot. “Sorry.”

You shook you head, “Don’t be, probably my fault,” You smiled a moment, “you see, not so hard.”

“Not what your mom was saying last night,” he spat quickly.

You shook your head, hiding your tired smile. “Just couldn’t resist, huh?” You said, gliding across the room, still leading. You saw an old man dip his partner, and gained an idea.

As you led Dipper, you started to take more control. You knew if you tried to dip him out of the blue, he’d resist. You wouldn’t be able to. Unless…

You moved toward the edge of the dance floor, in case it went wrong, and to both fell on the ground. As you did, you stood straight up and tall, and swept the leg.

”Augh-“ Dipper tried to form a word, but was too late. You swept one leg, leaving him vulnerable to be pushed down with the free, non catching hand. As he fell, that hand slipped under his back to stop him before he hit the ground.

You smirked down at him, holding him there for a moment before pulling him up.

His eyes were wide, and face slightly red. Though that could have been from fear. “You realize my life just flashed before my eyes, right?” He blinked a few times, as if reacquainting himself with standing.

You started again to the centre. “Whaaaat?” you laughed. Across the floor you saw another move, a spin this time.

Dipper noticed too though, and followed your eyes across the room, landing in the same couple. “Oh, don’t even thing about it.”

You snickered, “you know me too well.” You still intended to do it. As you subtly moved your hands across his to reposition to spin him, he caught you off guard. He must have been watching the motion of the dancers too, because he threw his arm out to try and spin you. Unlike you, he didn’t have the tactical skill to force the spin, like you did the dip, but you were one to play the game. As he led you, you spun out, then back in close, placing your chest nearly against his. “Hey, man’s got moves!”

”Heh, thanks,” he stuttered, intensely aware of the new closeness.

You were aware of it too. You smirked, almost feeling the heat from his face. Your hands glided smoothly away from his and to the back of his neck, where you laced your fingers together. “And you were worried,” you smiled.

He was looking at you with wide eyes, and slightly parted lips. They caught your attention, your gaze flickering from his big brown eyes down to his slightly pink lips. Fuck, you were not subtle today. Dipper swallowed, “Yeah… nothing to worry about. You wouldn’t let me fall.”

You snickered, “Oh, I’d let you fall, alright.” You looked at him with an almost shit eating grin. A pun-smile, so to speak. “Get it, it has a double meaning.”

Dipper flushed. “Uh, I mean-“

You were blushing too, you could feel it. To close. To much, to hard. You backed out, pulling away from his chest. ”Or maybe it just means I’ll do this,” you say, sweeping his leg again and barely catching him on the way down. He let out a startled sound again, having been caught only inches from the floor. Just as you were leaned over him, about to pull him up, you let him fall to the floor. “Like that.”

Dipper grumbled, laying with his back on the ground for a moment, as if in protest. “You know,” he started, exasperated. The blush wasn’t completely faded from his face, but it was close.

As he moved to get up, you put a hand out in front of him to help him. He looked at it a moment with pursed lips before taking it. You pulled him up. “But hey, who could ever resist falling in love with me,” you said, punctuating your claim by putting your hand beneath your chin to frame your face.

“Literally nobody, you’re so effortlessly charming,” he said, sarcastically. He took your hand again, and pulled you close to his chest like before, and started to dance again. Looks like you got through to him? Or he’s humouring you. Either way. You moved your feet with his, letting him lead. It didn’t seem like he even realized it was you following him now.

You shrugged, “Hey, your words.” Your hands found their way back to his neck. You felt the brush of his hair on your fingers, and lingered on the feeling. His hair was soft.

“Are they really though?”

”That doesn’t even make sense, Dippin dots,” you shook your head.

Dippers face flattened, “oops,” he said, stepping on your foot.

“Hey!” you exclaimed playfully.

“Deserved,” Dipper sighed. The song ended. Come to think of it, it wasn’t the song you started on.

“Those are fighting words, Dipstick.” You thought for a moment as Dipper led you along the floor. He wasn’t all that bad at this. “I could…” you hesitated, and laughed at yourself as you said it. “Pull your hair, or something,” you said, fingers trailing up his neck to brush against his locks. Smooth.

Dipper laughed immediately, and then feigned shock and horror. He gasped, “You can’t! What if I cum!”

You stifled a laugh, pulling away, and gut punched him playfully. “Jesus Christ, you are awful. Like downright terrible, that physically hurt me.” You shook your head, and turned away from him to hide your smirk. Fucking terrible.

“Obligatory masochism joke?” He questioned.

You turned back to him, “Nah, that one’s a stretch.”

Dipper shook his head, “You’re just a critic, I swear.” He folded his arms at his chest. “Honestly, your comedy is lacking,” he scoffed with faux condescension.

You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “Yeah, whatever, you absolute comedian.” You shook your head, looking at the floor to avoid his eyes. You snaked your arm around his, unfolding it from the other, “You can tell me all about how funny you are on the way to the snack table, yeah?”

Dipper easily linked his arm with yours, “Good plan.”

…

You lingered with him near the chocolate fountain, showing dessert strawberries in your mouth. There was no getting sick of strawberries, was there?

”Y/n, Y/n, look over there,” Dipper said, poking you. You followed his eyes, and landed on Mabel across the room, flirting with a rich looking guy. You squinted, trying to read the reaction of the guy.

“Mabel? What, who is that?” You said, curious.

”What? No,” he said, shaking his head. He pointed this time, and moved your head to direct your eyes in the direction. “Cheese fountain.”

”Cheese fountain?” You asked, unsure where he was going. The phrase cheese fountain did not evoke a good feeling from you. The concept didn’t seem appetizing.

“Cheese strawberry, I dare you.”

You opened your mouth, in some sort of surprise. “Oh, you bitch, why would you dare me that?”

He snickered, “cuz you‘ll do it.”

You pursed your lips, turning to him, pointing to him with malice. You sighed, “you’re right, I ain’t no pussy, come on.” He smiled, taking your arm again to move tables, a few sticks of strawberries held in his free hand.

The two of you stopped just short of the table, and stared down the cheese fountain. You almost wanted to out your hand in it, just to feel the texture. You held back though. “Looks kind of gross,” you muttered.

”It sure does,” Dipper said, handing you a skewered strawberry, bowing his head slightly as he did.

You held the strawberry under the drilling and flowing cheese, drenching it. You weren’t no bitch, despite the fact that the texture was strange.

“Damn, you’re drowning it,” Dipper commented, watching.

You stared at the strawberry after you pulled it out. A droplet of thick and slightly warm cheese fell to the floor at your feet. “Only way to go is all in,” you said, about to pop it in your mouth.

You vaguely heard footsteps come closer beside you. “What are you doing?” Pacifica said, approaching.

”Uhh,” You and Dipper both stammered in unison. You looked down at the cheese berry, then at him. Sharing a moment of contemplating eye contact, you decided to speak first. “Chesee strawberry, any thoughts?”

Pacifica scrunched her face, and receded into herself. “Yeah, just one. Why?”

You wordlessly pointed at Dipper, and you both could see Pacificas face change as she realized it was a rather stupid dare. It changed from mild disgust to a tired disappointment. “Yeah, maybe don’t do that,” Pacifica said, sucking in a breath though her teeth.

Dipper crossed his arms, “Dude, it’s liquid cheese, it’s nasty.”

Pacifica sighed, “Yeah, I know, but the old people like it.” She tilted her head up and looked around the room, scanning the crowd of her parents friends and their children. “Can’t imagine why,” she said.

You perked up, “Oh speaking of, are you done with your parents friends?”

Pacifica clapped her gloved hands together, “For now, yes!”

You gasped, and leaned over to offer her a hand. “Then may I be the first to offer you a dance,” you said, doing your best impression of a snobbish voice.

She took it, “Why, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She led, much more skillfully then you or Dipper ever did. At the centre of the foyer, she swung you and spun you with a practiced perfection you might envy.

“You’re good at this,” you said, in slight wonder.

“I’ve had to go to these parties since I was like, three,” she laughed. “If have to be a good dancer by now.”

You got a few looks from the guests, some of which said a quick hello or happy birthday to Pacifica. She tried to keep it brief, not even slowly the dance to speak with them.

As you were gliding around the floor, she looked back to the food table. ”So, do I have your blessing to dance with Dip?” she asked coyly.

You laughed, “yeah, of course. I’ll tag him in soon.” You may be his just as friends date, and have feeling for him, but you wouldn’t be a bitch about it. Who were you to try and stop her? You were friends with both of them first and foremost. “I should probably find Mabel anyway, make sure she’s not being weird to anyone.”

Pacifica snickered, “I’m almost a hundred percent sure your late on that, I can feel it.”

”There’s no harm in trying though, yeah?” You said, gliding closer to where Dipper was collecting snacks on his plate like he was a starving man on death row getting his last meal. You waved at him to try and catch his attention, “Dipshit! Tag in for me!” you called.

He looked over, holding a bun in his mouth. You could see his expression fall slightly, reliving his hesitancy to dance from earlier.

You got closer with Pacifica, so nobody had to yell. Pacifica let go of your hands, and stopping in front of him. “Come on, I actually know how to dance, and won’t let you make a fool of yourself.”

Dipper snickered, and nudged you slightly. “You’ll let me keep my dignity? Y/n could learn something from you,” he said, taking her hand.

You smiled, “hey, I didn’t do you that bad, did I?”

“Ehhhh,” he said, squinting. “Up for debate, I think.”

”Yeah, whatever nerd,” you laughed. You snapped a finger gun at the two of them before they moved away from you. Off to find Mabel.

Unsurprisingly, she was trying to flirt. You found her trying to kabedon a rich looking guy about your age. She didn’t see you as you approached, but he did, and made pleading eye contact with you. Yikes.

You scrunched your face, and shook your head. You leaned on the same wall as the guy, and looked to Mabel. “May I cut in for a dance?”

Mabel squinted, “with whom?”

You bowed, and offered a hand, “The lovely lady, of course.”

She gasped, “Why, I’m enchanted.” She spoke in a posh British accent, “of course, I’d love that.”

She released the guy and took your hand. You glanced to the fleeing rich dude, who offered you a nod of thanks. You nodded back, happy to save him. Gliding to the dance floor with her, you sighed, “Girlie, he was not into you.”

”I think he was warming up,” she said, leading the dance.

“Dude, you gotta learn some boundaries.”

She pursed her lips, “Are you sure he wasn’t into me?”

You laughed, “dude, yes. He looked terrified.”

…

The party went on. Cake was cut, dances were had, as it stretched deeper into the night, the music shifted from waltzing classics to more current songs. Songs you could actually dance to, competently this time, with Mabel by your side immediately, Pacifica quick to follow, and Dipper reluctant to join. But you made him. And he danced endearingly awkwardly, much worse without the clear and define steps of a waltz to guide him.

And unfortunately, despite what you felt in the moment, the party did eventually end. When it was just you and your friends left, and you all crashed.

And in the early afternoon when you all woke, you, Mabel and Dipper did not want to stay and help clean up. Pacifica was quite understanding.

And so, you were started home. The instructions Stan gave you were simply to borrow a car and drive the twins yourself illegally. He was a great driving instructor. So you loaded them into the car, drove them to the shack.

”You coming?” Dipper asked, seeing how you weren’t getting out after you pulled in.

“Fuck no,” you laughed, “I’m taking a nap at home man.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. He looked back at the door Mabel already disappeared through, then back to you. “Then do you want the book club book, so you can catch up before we read next?”

You smiled, “yeah, actually. I think context might help my understanding.”

”Okay, hold on, I’ll grab it from my room,” he said, starting to the shack. “Don’t go anywhere.” You leaned back in the seat, and waited. Soon enough Dipper was scurrying back out, book in hand. “Alright, here, now we’ll be on the same level,” he said, leaning against the open car window.

”And this is a series?”

Dipper nodded.

”Then I’m excited for book club going forward,” you said, yawning. “Anyway, I’m fucking off, see you later?”

Dipper waved slightly, pushing himself off the car, “Alright, see ya.”

You blew a kiss at him, making an exaggerated mwah sound while winking. He shook his head, hiding a smile as you drove off.

Next chapter

Man I wrote this in like March it’s weird looking at it again.

#x reader #dipper pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #my writing #dipper pines #dipper x reader #douce amere #gravity falls

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dr4k3n0 · 1 year

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'Drawn to You'

A/n: I've read a few different types of soulmate AU's in the past and I've always wanted to write one.. So this is a soulmate AU and whatever you draw on your skin, appears on your soulmate's skin. Enjoy!

Synopsis: You find out that what you write or draw on your skin appears on your soulmate's skin.

TW: None

Word Count: 1.1k

You sat bored and tired in a large tavern. Your friends had convinced you to come with them to a tavern for a few drinks but you didn't have any drinks besides a small glass of water. You watched as the people danced and played poker while your friends sat with these new men they just met. Rolling your eyes, you took out a pen and began to draw a random face on your hand. You smiled at the way it looked, before drawing an outline around it and adding a ridiculous haircut to it. Giving it a name, you rolled up your sleeve to draw more. At that moment, you were very happy that you brought a pen with you. It satisfied your boredom for a bit, before your friends began to stir up trouble and you had to walk them home.

Meanwhile, Vash and the crew had just settled in a small town and found a cheap hotel to stay the night. They all split ways and went to their individual rooms. Vash entered his room with a stretch before messily kicking off his boots and taking off his warm jacket. He ran his hand through his hair gently, before noticing the creation you had made.

"What the-" Vash said confused.

He didn't remember drawing that.. and he couldn't draw that well anyway. He went to the small bathroom and rolled up his sleeve as he went to wash it off.

"There's more?!" Vash exclaimed seeing the other drawing going up his arm.

He turned on the faucet and began to scrub at the ink but it wouldn't budge.

He scrubbed at the ink for a good 10 minutes before giving up seeing that it didn't even fade. He sighed confused before calling it a night and heading to bed. He thought for a while trying to figure out where these drawings came from, before finally drifting off to sleep. The night seemed to pass by way too fast and the next thing blonde knew, it was morning. He sat up groggily before remembering the drawing on his hand and arm. Sure enough, they weren't there.. Was this all a dream? He thought confused. Seeing a small pen on his bedside table, an idea popped into his head. He decided to draw a very messy-looking flower with a smiley face. He smiled before getting ready and meeting the others.

Now, you had just begun to wake up and decided to start getting ready for work. You worked at a small family-owned business as a waitress. The family was always very kind to you and enjoyed working with you. Stretching, you stood up and got changed. After that, you grabbed a small apple, before putting it in your mouth, and walking out of your house. You eventually made it to work, being greeted by the owner's children and the pleasant aroma of baked goods. You smiled down at the children as they were excited you had arrived. They eventually grabbed your hand and looked at the poorly drawn flower on your hand.

"Did you draw that Y/n?" The child said curiously.

"What do you mean?" You said as you looked down at your hand and saw the flower.

What in the world-? You thought confused.

Examining your hand, you brushed off the confusion before heading in. You started to work, still thinking about the drawing on your hand. How did it get there? What's happening? That was all you thought. You began to sweep the floor a bit, deep in thought as you worked before being startled by a voice.

"Y/n?" A woman's voice said. Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked at the woman who just so happened to be your boss.

"Yes ma'am?" You said smiling a little.

"How many times have I told you that you don't have to call me that, just call me Jess," She said smiling at you.

"Sorry ma- I mean Jess," You said smiling awkwardly.

"What's troubling you?" Jess said.

Surprised by her question, you reply with, "Oh it's nothing, I just woke up with a drawing on my hand that I don't remember drawing and I'm confused about how it appeared,"

Her eyes widen as she smiles at you. "Y/n I think you found your soulmate!" She said excitedly for you.

"What? What do you mean?" You asked confused.

"When you reach a certain age, when you draw or write on your skin they show up on your soulmates," She explained.

You looked at her confused not sure if you should believe it.

"That's how I met my husband," She said happily.

"So your saying, my soulmate drew this on me?" You asked confused.

She nodded happily at you before a customer walked in. "Oh, let's talk later, we have a customer," She beamed at you.

A soulmate..? You thought confused. Taking out your pen, you decided to quickly write a small "Hi" on your hand before hurrying off to take the orders.

Vash sat in the hot car, with little leg space, trying to sleep away the time before he felt a small itch on his hand.

He looked at it confused before seeing a small "Hi" In messy handwriting.

He gasped quietly and was confused seeing the word.

He pulled out the pen he may or may not have stolen from the hotel before writing a small "Hello" below it.

He sighed as he clicked the pen before putting it back in his pocket and trying to sleep again.

Soon another itch appeared on his hand and he looked down at it seeing the words: "What the heck-"

He chuckled a little bit before writing, "What?".

This time he watched as the writing appeared letter by letter on his hand. "This can't be happening-" The words spelled out.

Looking at the words confused before writing back, "What do you mean? What's going on?"

"Is this a real person writing this?" Another set of words said.

"Yes?" He wrote.

The words stopped replying for a moment before saying, "I'll get back to you in about an hour I'm working right now.."

"That's fine Cya I guess?" Vash wrote back.

He looked at his hand confused before hearing a nosy Wolfwood. "So you got a soulmate now Needle-Noggin?" Wolfwood said grinning mischievously.

"Is that what that is?" Vash asked confused.

"Yea that's what it is. You don't know about soulmates?" Wolfwood said laughing at him.

"Shut up," Vash said annoyed as he propped his arm up and looked out the window.

Soulmates huh?

Pt.2 maybe? Lemme know what yall think. Anyway hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading!

#trigun vash #vash the stampede #vash x reader #trigun fluff #trigun stampede #trigun #oneshot #fluff #soulmate AU

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greyyson-but-no · 14 days

Text

PEACE: death family

just something I felt like writing, this is my headcannon for the end of death family. it just felt most calming for me, the perfect end. it's very long, 1.4K words I think, it's also been a while since I posted writing too. hope you all enjoy. rip death family - how ironic lmao

As the children fell asleep, curled up beside their father that had spent the past few hours apologising over and over again, they could feel her coming. Chayanne felt her presence first, the warmth, the calm that washed over him. Just a second later the same safety settled in Lullah's heart, too and they figured out who it was. There was no one else who had this sense of calmness, who made them feel as safe as this. It was immediately someone they could trust because the two had heard their father mention her name several times. Not as someone dangerous, but instead the most loving person they could ever come in contact with. In fact, Philza had stated that he loved this person more than anyone else, well, no one came above his children, but the point still stood tall. They knew she could be trusted.

Chayanne and Lullah's eyes fluttered open, and while they didn't know where they were, the black endless void that they stood in wasn't scaring them. At the end of wherever they were stood the most beautiful deity they had ever seen. Though her face was masked by a purple laced veil that hung from a large, black dia de muertos-esque hat, a warming smile curled into the deities lips from underneath. Lullah grabbed Chayanne's hand, smiling at the goddess that looked over them.

The Goddess of Death took a couple steps closer. "Oh, my dear children. I didn't expect it to be you two, not yet, at least." She spoke, her voice smooth and clear, and a comfort to Chayanne and Lullah as they went through something that no child should have to endure.

"You're-" Lullah was the first to speak, Chayanne too bewildered to neither understand nor process what was actually happening. "Are you Kristin? The Goddess of Death?"

The deity nodded. "Yes, my loves."

The younger one turned to the older, tugging on his hand and smiling. "Chay, it's okay. Dad told us about her, remember? She's nice, she's okay. Remember, Papa said that if he could no longer take care of us that she could." Lullah explained, Chayanne slowly piecing together what was happening.

"Our dad-"

The goddess cut Chayanne off. "I've known your father for a very long time, dear ones. You don't have to worry anymore."

Lullah dropped Chayanne's hands, moving closer to the goddess of death with a hope that somehow deep down, she knew was false. But it was worth the try anyway. "Is there any way we can see him again?" She knew what everything meant, she knew that they had- they had moved on.

"I can take you to see him but he won't be able to see you. You wouldn't be able to talk to him or communicate at all. Well, there might be leeway with the communication part but he won't be able to understand you or know that you're there." Kristin explained, moving her hands around to her back and clasping them there. "He's in a different plane of existence to you and us, right now. The most I can do is morph the two of you into crows. you'd be able to mix in with his murder as he lives his life."

Chayanne nodded, not knowing how to understand he would never be able to talk to his dad again. all those years, being brought up by him, the child being who he was because of philza, all that gone in all matter of minutes. No communication ever again. But then again, it was bound to happen. They always knew it would happen at some point. All they were were experiments, hatching into what they were supposed to be wasn't possible, passing on was the only option. Looking around, Chayanne weighed up his options, spending the rest of eternity with his sister and watching over their father as he continued with no acknowledgement of their existence or: nothingness.

There was truly only one correct choice. He looked over to Lullah. "I'll do it, if you do too, hermanita."

Lullah turned, eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

Chayanne shrugged, looking over at the Goddess of Death again. "I'd like to see dad, if I'm being honest, and it also means we can stick by each other's side."

The younger one nodded, taking Chayanne's hand again and turning towards the goddess, a large smile brimming on her face, nodding. "We want to see him again. If this is our option then it's the best afterlife i could have asked for. por favor, help us see our dad again."

"As you wish, children." And as she was about to morph them, she smiled, squinting to try and figure out if she had gotten it correct. "Actually, wait, I just remembered something."

The two children opened their eyes again. "What?" They both spoke in unison.

The Goddess grinned, kneeling down to be at the same height as the two children. "You met Rose, didn't you?" And when they both explained she had saved them several times over, Kristin nodded again, laughing a little. "That little demigoddess has a little trick up her sleeve, let me call her over here."

And so the Goddess of Death called over the one that ruled over nature in the world that Philza was from, and soon enough the comforting face of Rose stood beside the goddess, looking over to the two children with a solemn look etched on her face. While she hadn't been expecting them just yet either, the demigoddess understood what Kristin wanted from her. The two children didn't quite understand what was happening just yet, but they had two familiar faces in front of them and with the notion of seeing their dad again and knowing they would be able to stick together forever, they would be okay. They knew it. Soon enough, Chayanne and Lullah found themselves standing on an island, looking over a large, gorgeous area. There were hundreds and thousands of crows flying around the area, diving in and around the floating islands around the edge, cawing with a happiness that the children hadn't seen in anyone for a good while. Chayanne looked upwards, greeted with a large diamond sword, a cape wrapped around it that flowed daringly in the wind, never faltering, never having a risk of falling. Lullah spotted the quartz wall, broken up and cracked, floating up with the islands.

Then yet another crow came flying round, diving with an adrenaline unknown to them before, his wingspan being larger than ever before. His hat, green with white stripes, somehow not falling off even when he flew straight down. The old crow was holding moss, and just a second later he was down by the beach on the other side of the island they were standing on, placing it around. The children were too far to specify what he was actually doing, but they didn't care. That was their father, that was for sure. The same version of him they knew, but completely different. Had no knowledge of them, of ever having children, nor ever knowing Missa. He looked… happy. Not worried, not overwhelmed, just content.

The Goddess of Death took a step forward having been previously stood behind the two children, looking over her husband with a warm look. "He can't see us right now. Thanks to Rose, whenever the two of you choose, you can morph into crows, then he'll be able to see you. Lullah, you'll have little pink flowers mixed into your feathers, Chayanne, you'll have Missa's eyes. He'll be able to differentiate the two of you from the rest but he won't understand why."

Chayanne nodded. "It's better than never being able to see him again." and Lullah nodded in agreement.

And so, for as long as they wanted to, the two children could choose how they wanted to live. If they wanted to hear their father once more, all it took was for them to morph into crows, they would be able to fly to him and speak to him through the mouth of Brian. He wouldn't be able to recognise them, or understand why they were saying what they were, but it meant a lot for the children that he had heard their thoughts once more. It meant everything to them. If they simply wanted to relax, they flew up to Techno's memorial and while Lullah was reminded of the one she had built, she much preferred this one. The Death Siblings would sit on the cross-guard of the sword, watching over their father's world, finally understanding what he had been hiding from them all these months.

Eventually, Philza came to recognise their voices. He started to spot them within a whole murder of his crows. He still couldn't figure out why they were different or why his heart could have burst whenever he caught sight of them, but he soon enough came to terms with it. Whenever he saw them around, a larger smile curled into his lips, a sense of comfort washing over him at the sight of them both safe. Maybe he would never figure out why, but after a while, that didn't matter to Chayanne and Lullah.

They were safe and content, all three of them were. Peace, at long last.

#qsmp #grey writes #qsmp writing #qsmp chayanne #qsmp llulah #qsmp philza #kristin #philza minecraft #philza #philza hardcore lore

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 3 months

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Tess' Sharpuary - 23. Black Lake

Two lovers meet at the water's edge on a warm summer day.

chapter specific tags: slice of life, fluff, established relationship, hopeful

relationships: aesop sharp x reader

23. Black Lake (1.2k)

tw: teacher-student relationship (reader is adult), age difference, implied mention of canon character death

As Aesop Sharp slowly walked along the banks of the Black Lake an unexpected, yet very welcome, sight made him stop in his tracks. His young sweetheart was sitting upon a simple pier just ahead, her attention entirely on the book she held in her delicate hands, her shoes sitting beside her along with her neatly folded stockings, and she was dipping her feet in the cool water. It was a fairly warm day, Aesop supposed. He considered surprising her, but thought better of it in the end - one does not sneak up on a girl who’s capable of turning a training dummy into dust with a wave of her wand.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” he said instead, his voice soft. The girl turned her head swiftly in surprise, but a smile that made Aesop’s heart skip a beat soon graced her gorgeous features. It was all the potions master needed to approach her. After he made sure the two of them were alone, he sat down next to her, but didn’t take his boots and socks off to cool his feet as well. After another cautious look around, he leaned close and pressed a short kiss upon her lips.

“Enjoying yourself on a nice day?” he inquired, curiously peeking at the book she was reading. She sensed his interest and, after marking down the page she was on, closed the book and handed it to him. The title read ‘Household Magic and Management’ The professor’s eyebrows shot up, and he sent her a curious look, only to find her blushing slightly: “While I’ve nothing but good things to say about any of my professors, this area of magic is not exactly covered in the lectures,” she explained slowly, “I’ll be living on my own after I graduate, and while I can do a number of things by hand, I think it’ll be useful to know how to do them using magic as well. When I spent part of my summer with Natty some years ago, I found her mum had pretty much the entire household running on magic, and I found it frankly impressive.”

Aesop listened with interest. “It’s true enough that the school doesn’t provide the education on a lot of household magic, or rather, doesn’t teach how certain spells that are taught could be used in a household. Certainly something that should be remedied,” he said weightedly, “I could perhaps talk to professor Ronen about it. This is, after all, his area of expertise. I’m certain he could make an enjoyable game even out of something as mundane as washing the dishes.” His sweetheart grinned at him, but then her face became a bit shy. “I also wanted to learn this to… I don’t know. To keep up with you…”

Aesop’s heart could’ve melted. He chanced wrapping his arm around her back gently: “You are such a clever woman, my dear, but sometimes you have such silly thoughts.” She smiled and dropped her head slightly at him using her own words against her. “It’s not about keeping up with someone. If anything, I would be the one trying to keep up with you - I don’t know if you noticed, but you are desperately out of my league…” She clicked her tongue in refusal, but Aesop didn’t back down, “You are. Young, beautiful, clever, capable, with your entire life ahead of you. You wanting to spend it with me is something I am completely undeserving of…”

They never really talked about the future of their relationship, not in depth anyway. And yet he felt an unmistakable thrum in his chest whenever they vaguely suggested it. Whenever they vaguely suggested that they’ll grow even further together. That there would come a day when the two of them would accept one another’s hand in marriage. That perhaps one day they’d welcome a child of their own into this world, and start their own family. It was all quite soon as of yet, but Aesop knew, with every fibre of his being, that he loved her utterly and completely, that she consumed him entirely. And whenever she shyly and vulnerably hinted at wanting those things with him, shared life, shared home, he felt certain that the future would allow them to indulge in these fantastic, secret dreams and make them their reality.

“I can help you with those if you’d like. I-, well, I’m not exactly some master cleaner, but I am fairly self sufficient. And I’m a fairly good cook. With magic that is,” he offered at last, prompting her to finally give him another beaming smile, followed by a chuckle: With magic, you say? And without it?” Aesop gave her a smug little grin: “Without magic, I am an excellent cook.” He revelled in the sound of her laughter.

“So, what brings you here today?” the girl asked then, leaning a bit to her left to amicably bump her side into his. It was now his turn to have a fleetingly awkward look enter his eyes. “Uh, well…” he started, then reached into his left coat pocket. The girl’s eyebrows shot up, as he pulled out a couple of pieces of toast. She chuckled lightly: “A little snack by the water?”

Aesop gave a wry grin: “Yes and no. You see, it is a snack, but not for me.” His sweetheart narrowed her eyes slightly. However, just then there came a loud splashing noise, and a long dark tentacle shot out from below the water surface. Aesop grinned, and, using as much strength as he could, tossed one of the toasted slices of bread in the large creature’s general direction. The tentacle moved with speed the Ravenclaw had not expected, it cut through their air and caught the toast with its thin tip. With a loud splash, it descended back under water.

“I’m sorry, but did that really just happen?” she said, her disbelief clear in her voice. Aesop chuckled quietly: “Trust me, when I was first told that our dear squid enjoys itself some toast, I thought the person was mad. But then she showed me, and, well, I could hardly deny it.” “Who was it?” asked his young lover gently. Aesop got that strange wistful look then, and she instantly knew he meant his Auror partner. “A friend,” he replied simply, shaking his head. There was still so much to unfold, and Aesop still didn’t feel entirely comfortable with dropping his walls and facing the reality of what happened. However, little by little, some things got easier. He wanted to tell her everything, but was not ready yet. Someday, however, he knew he would be.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he coughed quietly before raising his hand holding another piece of the toast. The tentacle shot up from the water again.

“Would you like to have a go?” he asked the young woman sitting next to him. Her lips spread in a cheerful smile: “Are you asking me whether I want to feed toast to the Giant Squid? Oh, yes, please!”

Aesop laughed loudly.

---

Thank you for reading! ❤

[AO3] - [Sharpuary 2024] - [Masterlist]

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #my art #fanfiction #reader insert #drawing #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #aesop sharp fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #sharpuary #sharpuary 2024

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky (part 3)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: good morning, aviators! so sorry this took eight days to get up! also this part might be a little slow to some so big apologies about that. anyways come get y'all juice

<- part 2 | part 4 ->

I slid out of my Jeep the following morning, eyes lingering on the horizon as the sun crept up, washing the base in hues of orange, red and yellow. This was a definite perk of getting up so early, but I’d still rather sleep in.

“Hey!” A voice from my left pulled my attention, and I turned my head to see Lieutenant Natasha Trace jog over from her truck. She looked different than she had yesterday at the bar—her dress khakis were replaced with a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Aviators hung from the neckline, and she switched her green duffel from one hand to the other before extending her arm in a handshake. “Morning. You’re Lucky, right?”

“The one and only. You must be Phoenix.” I shook her hand firmly as she confirmed her callsign with a nod. “Good to see it’s not a total sausage party.”

She snorted with a nod, falling into step with me as we headed inside to the locker room. “We got Halo here, too, so we aren’t that outnumbered.”

“Oh, we’ll still be fighting by the skin of our teeth.” I assured her, and she laughed bitterly as we made our way down the hall.

“I have no doubt.”

I was waiting for her to bring up Bradley, she practically had a front row seat to The Slap That Shook North Island, but she didn’t say a word and I was grateful. She introduced me to the infamous Callie Bassett, who was just as pleasant as I’d heard, and I thought that’s why they called her Halo. I was wrong, and poor Callie went on to explain that she earned her callsign when she nearly met her demise doing HALO jumps—high altitude, low opening. She passed out mid-fall, and if her HALO instructor hadn’t ripped her cord at the last possible second…splat. No more Callie. By the time she was done with her story we were all dressed in our flight suits, and headed down to the hangar where we were instructed to meet. And just when I started to get too comfortable…

“Well if it isn’t the woman of the hour!” Lieutenant Jake Seresin’s twang was enough to pull Phoenix’s eyes into a roll. With a smirk, the blonde sauntered over, another man at his side. “Lucky, was it?”

I nodded, providing him with my full name, emphasizing the Lieutenant that sat in front of it. “You must be Dogman and Hyena.”

He faltered, but only slightly, switching the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other with his tongue. “Hangman and Coyote”

“Right.” I dragged out the i, to emphasize how little I cared. “And why am I the woman of the hour, Bagman?”

Beside me, I saw Natasha give Jake a look out of the corner of my eye, the type of look that said shut up if you know what’s good for you, but from what I’d heard of the pilot in front of me, he didn’t have a clue what that was. “Well, my buddy Coyote and I are just dying to know what happened between you and Bradshaw. I mean…that was one hell of a slap.”

I had two options. I could tell the truth, or I could lie.

Okay, realistically, I had one option. So, I grinned at Hangman with all my teeth, tilting my chin up. “Oh, it was just some foreplay.”

This wiped that cocky smile right off his face. “What?”

“Foreplay.” After a beat I huffed, rolling my eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, just something to spice things up!” I dropped my voice to sound more sultry and leaned in a bit. “Sometimes, Bradley and I like to meet at bars and cause a scene. Makes things much better in bed. You should try it, Seresin.” His eyes were wide as saucers, and I had to think about the time my dad walked in on my boyfriend escaping through my bedroom window to prevent myself from laughing.

“You..You’re serious?” He asked after a moment, and I held his gaze in long enough silence to make him uncomfortable before laughing out loud.

“No, you idiot, I’m not serious! Do you really think I’d ever tell you something like that? I don’t even know you.” I rolled my eyes with a scoff of a laugh, and Jake clenched his jaw, obviously not too fond of being the butt of the joke for once.

“Very funny, Lucky. What’s the real reason, then?”

“Some things are just better left a mystery, Milkman.” I snorted at my own joke, deciding then and there that I would spend the next three weeks coming up with the worst versions of Jake’s callsign that I could think of purely for my own amusement. “See you out there, Phoenix.” With a nod toward the other woman I headed up to the podium, where a friend was straightening out papers. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Hondo.”

“Good to see you too, kiddo.” He greeted, a small grin on his face and voice quiet. “Glad to know you’re just as much your father’s daughter as ever.”

I smiled wide and nodded my head in a bow. “Thank you, Hondo, I pride myself on that fact. Though I still can’t believe he dragged you here to North Island.”

“Well, the pay bump, free housing and California sun resulted in not so much as a drag but an eager trot. Besides, I’d gladly follow that man into Hell, Lucky. North Island is definitely not that.” He smiled at me and I patted his shoulder, before heading to find a seat. I felt like I was in high school again as I eased myself into one of the desks, fiddling with the pencil that rested in the little groove. I allowed myself to get lost in thought, and I only picked my head up when the rest of the team began to file in, with Rooster at the helm of the group, eyes searching the desks before him.

It was at that moment that I realized Bradley Bradshaw had some balls of steel as he dropped himself into the desk right next to mine. I really couldn’t believe it. I slapped him in front of everyone sitting around us, and he still had the nerve to plop down beside me. My hands clenched into my fists in my lap and I quickly faced forward, keeping my face as blank as possible.

“I wouldn’t have picked Lucky.” He whispered to me, and it was all I could do to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. The first words he’s spoken to me in ten years and they were about my goddamn callsign?? My nails dug into my palms and I stared straight ahead while Rooster continued. “For your callsign, I mean. I wouldn’t have picked Lucky. I would’ve gone with Cherry.”

That nickname cut deep and propelled me back into our childhood, and for a second it felt like he wanted to hurt me. I had to remind myself that Bradley would never hurt me on purpose, but a person can change a lot in a decade. I tightened my jaw, trying to keep my facial expressions neutral because I knew Hangman was watching us, especially now that Bradley had sat down next to me like an idiot.

“Well, you weren’t around to pick my callsign, now were you, Rooster?” I replied quietly after a moment, eyes flicking down to the thick book sitting in front of me, avoiding even looking at him. The aged desk creaked as he leaned back in it. These were probably the same ones that our fathers sat in all those years ago. If we had been on better terms, I’d make a joke that he was probably sitting in Maverick’s while I was sitting In Goose’s. It worked better like that than the other way around. More fitting.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered after a minute. “I just…” He trailed off, silence overtaking him, and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re ten years too late for sorry, Bradley.”

“I know. I know I messed up. I just—I…I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t…after what he did, I couldn’t, and you…” Rooster was dancing around what he really wanted to say, voice so quiet I could barely hear him. He stared at his hands, brows furrowed, debating within himself and I urged him silently to just say it already as my frustrations rose. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”

My jaw tightened. “Right.” I nodded slowly, pulling the book and my pencil to my stomach as I swung my leg around the seat to stand. “Because I’ve never understood you, Bradley. Not once, not ever.”

He spoke my name, clearly already regretting what he’d said, but I was already preparing to stand—until a loud voice cut my plans to move seats short.

“ATTENTION ON DECK!”

Like clockwork, all of us were up in parade rest like it was muscle memory as Admirals Bates and Simpson entered the aircraft hangar. The latter of the two fell to a halt beside Hondo, while the former approached the podium.

“Good morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated.” Admiral Bates greeted us, and everyone lowered themselves back down into their desks, eager to find out what was in store for us. “I’m Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You are all TOPGUN graduates. The elite. The best of the best.” The room was full of smiles, some arrogant, some proud. “That was yesterday.” And at once, the smiles dropped. “The enemy’s new fifth generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box.” I watched as Hangman turned his head with a cocky grin to gaze at Phoenix, and smiled faintly at the subtle middle finger she raised at him in return as Bates continued to speak. “Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve.”

I caught the Admiral’s gaze for a long moment and I quickly glanced over at Bradley, just as Hangman turned to smile at him the same way he’d smiled at Phoenix. His eyes were straight ahead, face calm, optimistic even. He had no idea what was coming, and a part of me felt sorry that we blindsided him. It only lasted for a moment, before I reminded myself that I was blindsided by him when he wouldn’t return any of my calls.

“Your instructor is a TOPGUN graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master.” As Bates began his introduction, I couldn’t help but get excited. I sat up straighter, tilted my chin up, eyes bright. Even if I was going through the emotional ringer because of the man beside me, the other man making his approach down the aisle flooded me with pride, even though I couldn’t show it. “His exploits are legendary, and he’s considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced.”

Hangman turned to look and I watched as his cocky demeanor completely melted away, and he turned back around, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life or death.” Other heads turned, including Coyote’s, who had the same reaction as Hangman, slumping forward in his seat with a nervous smile.

Rooster finally turned his head, and his face melted into something else entirely. Something hard, something cold, something…angry. He looked over at me and I quickly looked away, feeling so goddamn guilty and hating it because it confused the hell out of me.

“I give you Captain Pete Mitchell.” Admiral Bates’ deep voice boomed all around us. “Callsign, Maverick.”

I watched with a small smile as my father took the podium, nodding in response as he said good morning. He examined his team, lifting his brows quickly at me, before holding up a thick book. “The F-18 NATOPS.” As he lowered it, he patted it a few times. “It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I’m assuming you know the book inside and out.”

Around us, some pilots called out. All of the arrogant ones, I noted. With a damn straight, Hangman was also included.

My father then proceeded to throw the book in the trash. “So does your enemy.”

Despite none of the pilots around me knowing my connection with him, I felt my cheeks redden slightly, wanting to sink through the floor. My eyes flicked to Hondo, who shook his head slightly, chest rising and falling in a heavy sigh. “And we’re off.” I murmured to myself.

“What the enemy doesn’t know,” Dad continued, “is your limits. I intend to find them. Test them. Push beyond.” His eyes found mine again. He and I had always been on the same wavelength, so I knew this was his subtle way of telling me I would not be receiving any special treatment. Part of me was glad, but the other was slightly terrified.

I’d grown up with Dad. I had yet to meet Captain Pete Mitchell.

“Today, we’ll start with what you only think you know.” His eyes scanned the pilots in front of him. “You show me what you’re made of.”

I knew my skill set. I knew I was a good pilot. The apple didn’t fall far after all, and my simply being here meant I could hold my own with the men and women around me.

But I wasn’t an idiot. I wouldn’t stand a chance against Maverick. I took some comfort in knowing the fact that if I couldn’t, there was no way in hell the pilots around me could either. One thing I knew for certain—it was going to be a long day.

love you guys <3

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ruewrote · 1 year

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𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠.

PAIRING: arthur morgan x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language, GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: cardigan by taylor swift WORD COUNT: 908

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it wasn’t a secret that you liked arthur far from one. if anything you had gushed over him a countless amount of times. you’re honestly surprised that they haven’t told you to shut up more times by now.

sitting by abigail swinging your legs back and forth whilst you sat on the chair beside her as she hung up the washing out to dry, humming and harring as she kept an eye on jack as she does so.

you and abigail giggled over how handsome he looked from afar as you drank late into the night, the two of you getting told off by dutch which only made you giggle more.

as tilly taught you how to fish and you’d get lost in a love struck gaze not realising a fish was yanking on the end of the line well not of course until she started yelling at you snapping you back into reality.

everyone in the camp had someone. how abigail used to have john, karen and sean grew closer with time, her being distraught when she had found out the bad news and how tilly had dibs on lenny.

you felt so alone most days, but the thought of arthur pushed you through as you watched as the other couples snuggled up together.

you’d often try and make little useful trinkets, sure to either stitch or carve a star into whatever it was. feeling overjoyed when you see him using whatever it was whilst he was inside camp.

you hinted your very big crush to him like how you'd pushed yourself up against him slightly as you shifted to get to a different spot across from him by the campfire since all the other spaces were coincidentally taken.

you even tried to make it completely obvious by stealing his hat and running off with it, arthur chasing close behind you — playfully tackling you to the ground and tickling you until you couldn't breathe.

it wasn’t necessary for him to chase you since you would’ve given it back soon enough anyways but you didn’t mind as long as he was close.

then one day he just up and left.

day after day you got more worried, asking dutch for any updates. of course there was nothing.

he didn’t even say goodbye.

you were sat by the lake when the sound of horse hooves thudded against the grass in the near distance. they grew closer and closer, rapidly trying to blink away the tears that sat along your waterline.

the sound of cheers and celebrations close by confirmed that they were back and sean was safe. you let out a deep sigh of relief.

your hands gripping onto the tree stump that sat underneath you, if not for that it’d be the palms of your hands that'd face the abuse, already having done that enough for it to leave fresh purple bruises behind.

a gust of wind blew your hair in front of you, shuffling to fix it not hearing footsteps stop beside you.

“hope you didn’t miss m’too much whilst i was gon’” it was him.

that was all it took to set you off. whipping your head in his direction.

the fucking audacity this man had.

standing then marching over to arthur, him straightening out his stance not expecting this sort of outburst from you.

“you bastard!” the tears that once flooded your vision now came back to haunt you, leaving a lump in your throat as you stood in front of the tall brunette, shoving your index finger into his chest with every word that you spoke.

“you left us! y-you left me…”

your pokes soon became small shoves to your hands weakly beating on his chest. he stood there and took it. his arms hovering over your figure as if he didn't then you would fall.

your sobs became stronger as did your yells.

it caught the rest of the others attention.

“how could you just up and leave like that? even before the other boys went off to f-find sean.”

you swallowed harshly, wiping some of the tears that had fallen trying to get ahold of yourself, “how could you leave me?”.

arthur was still silent, arms now down by his sides — his head tilted down but not too low so you could still see his lips turn into a small smirk.

“wh— you think this is funny?” your hands going to shove him again, his strong hands wrapped around your own, pulling you ever so close to him.

“‘re ya done yet?” your body went stiff as you realised your predicament. your body tightly pressed against his, his breath gently fanning across your face, his lips so close to yours.

his grip was still no longer on your hands but wrapping his arms around you, securing you in his hold.

“jus’ kiss already!” sean yelled from afar, you both slowly turned towards where the voice came from seeing the whole group gathered around, nodding their heads giving you both thumbs up encouraging you both.

“let’s give what the people want.” as you were turning back to question him, his lips caught your own in a loving kiss, his hands pushing your lower back into his torso deepening the kiss.

only to be met with loud cheers and whistles off the side, karen and tilly definitely shouting the loudest — making you smile into the kiss happily.

at last!

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan oneshots #arthur morgan fanfics #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption #imagines #oneshots #fanfics #x reader #ruewrote

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thefandomenchantress · 2 months

Note

Breaks down invisible door

Looks at you with firey eyes

Laughs

Hey hey hey looks like we both like Whace, eh? Care to share a few headcanons? I'll throw in a bonus! I'll reblog and add mine hehehe :3

Also BOOP

BOOP!!

Anyways, yeah! I do like Whace! Not only because the ship name is fun and silly, but also because I think the way Whit and Ace bounce off each other is a very entertaining concept. On with the headcanons!

-It took the two of them forever to get together, since Whit, what with his ever-present trouble with love, was too scared to try and confess his feelings. And Ace was also too scared, since he’s scared of everything but especially showing vulnerability like that. Eventually, Whit managed to tell Ace about his feelings, but Ace wasn’t sure if he was joking or not and so Whit had to try and clarify. Overall it was awkward but worth it when they finally got together.

-Whit loves PDA but Ace is very easily embarrassed by it. So they meet in the middle by doing secret PDA, like holding hands under the table where no one can see (Arei has made it her mission to catch them whenever they do stuff like that and tease them for it)(Ace gets mad and Whit gets disappointed because Ace will immediately stop doing whatever affectionate thing he was doing).

-Whit really likes doing Ace’s nails. Ace, comforted by the fact that he wears gloves most of the time so no one will actually see his nails, lets Whit do whatever crazy designs he wants. He’d never admit it but he really likes them.

-Similarly, Whit likes to try and do makeup on Ace. Ace can do eyeliner, so he’ll do that on Whit, but Whit likes to go all out. He’s always sad when Ace washes it off.

-They help each other with dying their hair. Whit’s is slightly more complicated, since he dyes his hair blonde and pink, but Ace tries his best. Whit has to help teach him how to properly just dye the edges the first time.

-Whit likes playing with Ace’s hair in general. Ace is a little cagey when it comes to letting people touch his hair but he doesn’t mind as much when it’s Whit.

-Whit finds much entertainment in teasing Ace just to see him all flustered. Whether that be with compliments, physical affection, or the occasional dirty joke (He likes to use atrociously bad pick-up lines sometimes, too, just to see Ace’s reaction).

-I’m not one to talk about nsfw too much…But Whit tops. ;)

-Hehe time for a very self-indulgent one. Whit found out Ace likes to read romance novels and would not let it go. Now they have a book club with just the two of them as members.

-Ace tends to get embarrassed when expressing his feelings for Whit through words, so sometimes he’ll buy him gifts instead, just small little things to show he cares. Whit keeps them all in a box to cherish forever.

-Whit has decided that Ace is his new favorite bed. He likes to sleep on Ace’s lap and chest, which confuses Ace, but he doesn’t really mind. Even on the off chance he does, he usually doesn’t have the heart to make Whit get off of him.

-Whit likes to tease Ace about how he’s one inch taller, calling Ace cute and petite and generally being a menace by pretending they have this huge height difference.

-Ace, being quite strong thanks to working out a lot, can carry Whit around. He usually does this when he’s fed up with Whit teasing him and wants to turn the tables on him. Sometimes it works, other times Whit just giggles and calls himself a captured princess.

-Whit loves to text 🩷 emojis at Ace all the time. An excessive amount, honestly. Ace will sometimes text him back <3.

-Ace will get really mad when someone is mean to Whit, unsurprisingly, but also unsurprisingly doesn’t do too much besides scold the person and swear at them. If someone’s mean to Ace, Whit won’t immediately do anything. But he‘ll get really quiet, making a 🙂 face, and on the inside you can tell he’s plotting their death.

-At every opportunity, Whit will take whatever pen/marker is lying around during class and doodle a heart on Ace’s arm. He thinks it’s cute. Ace glares at him whenever he does it, but puts in a noticeable amount of effort not to wash it off when he takes a shower.

———

Hmm, I think that’s all for now. Maybe I’ll add more if I think of any I forgot or if I think of any new ones. This list turned into a lot more than a few headcanons but I regret nothing.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #whit young #ace markey #whace

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mioyeo · 2 years

Text

8 makes 1 Team

No matter how different, without one of us there is no 8 makes 1 Team

Synopsis : In which 8 boys build a friendship despise of their differences with the help of a psychiatrist

Pairing : psychiatrist! Reader x Ateez (for now )

Themes : angst , mental struggles, fears , Disorders etc

Warnings : this chapter includes mentions of threatening , angst , obsessive-compulsive disorder , pedophilia , grooming , mental breakdown , paranoia, mentions of sexual abuse etc , please tell me if I forgot something , and I’m not romanticizing Disorders in anyway and this is pure fiction meaning this doesn’t represent Ateez in any type of way

And I would like to apologize and just like to explain that after I post the chapters of you guys getting to meet the patients (Ateez ) there will be back stories as to why they are where they are and etc , besides I do my research before writing about these disorders and other things

Word count : 1,5k

MEETING SEONGHWA

𝗣𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟬𝟯𝟳𝟴

𝙉𝙖𝙢𝙚 : 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙎𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙬𝙖

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 : 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹 𝟯, 𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟴

𝗛𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 : 𝟭,𝟳𝟴𝗺

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 : 𝗢𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲–𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘂𝗹𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿 , 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗶𝗱 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘳: 𝘈𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 , 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 , 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵

Y/n yawned and went to wash her hands after going to bathroom , passing other patients who where going to have dinner

The whole place made her really feel insanely uncomfortable with how some people where treated behind cell doors by some guards

Y/n knew she was going to do something sooner than later to stop it

She stopped in front of the cell door waiting for the guard to open it for her as she than went in

" Who are you and what do you want from me "

The blond boy with blue cloud pajamas looked alarmed and covered his ears slightly looking scared as she approached him

" I'm the new psychiatrist who will help you get better from now on "

" This isn't something that can go away "

" I know, but I'm going to make sure your comfortable with your surroundings and yourself for now on only if you let me help "

He uncovered his ears and looked up to see her smiling at him softly sitting on a clap-up chair she brought due to not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable by sitting on his bed

" Would you like to tell me your name "

" You already know that , why must I tell ? "

" Mhm , well I prefer my patients to tell me their names despite me already knowing it because some of them tend to get scared by people knowing their name out of nowhere "

He gasped and whimpered

" Did you hear that ? that-t noise "

" It's ok , it was just the chair I'm sitting on I'm sorry for scaring you "

" M-My name is Seonghwa "

The boy tried to smile but failed making his eyebrows knit together

" Nice to meet you Seonghwa, please don't smile for someone when you feel like it's not making you feel comfortable "

" But it's rude to not smile at people you just got to meet , it will make them sad a-and I don't want that "

" Listen Seonghwa that's not true , you shall never and I mean never do anything for anyone that makes you feel like it's not right to do "

" I don't need to smile if I don't want to ? "

She shook her head softly smiling at him

" Oh ... , I thought that it's obligatory to smile for people so you won't make them sad "

" It's just like when you don't need to say sorry if you didn't do anything wrong "

" But my mom said that I needed to apologize even if I'm not wrong "

He looked around afraid

" Seonghwa , trust me it's not true "

" How can I trust you ?! How do I know you don't work for someone that wants to harm me or use the things I say against me ?! "

" You don't need to trust me if your not sure , besides we just got know each other I'll let you open up to me at your pace ok ? "

He blinked looking around, he kept feeling things whisper that weren't actually there

" Is everything alright ? "

" Things here are whispering in my ear and I'm afraid they won't stop "

Seonghwa covered himself with his blankets

" I brought some books for you , maybe they can help you get distracted of these when you feel like their bothering you "

" Are these books clean ? I hate messy stuff "

" I bought them just for you , since the books here where pretty dusty and old so these here are brand new and clean "

" Are you buying stuff to gain my trust ? "

She shook her head straightening her blouse

" Seonghwa , this is for your own good the only thing i'd gain from helping you is too see you smile and be happy nothing more "

" Really ? Can I really trust you ? "

" That's up to you , my job is just to make you smile and be happy again "

He stood up and walked up to her taking the bag of books and slowly backing away as he kept his eyes on her , with suspicions about her invading the boys mind making him stay alarmed at any moment she did anything

" Well , is there anything in particular you want to request for your well-being before I go ? "

" Can I ask somethin-ng ?

The boy hesitated with his choice of words and started to fiddle around with his clothes

" You can ask me anything Seonghwa I'm all ears , but make sure that what your going to tell me won't make you feel uncomfortable afterwards for telling me ok ? "

" Yo-ou said t-that I d-don't have to do thing-gs I don't w-want to d-do "

" Yes I said that , is something wrong ? "

Seonghwa's breathing started to quicken as whimpers left his mouth with hot tears leaving his eyes soon after

" D-Do you also have to take your undies off when someone asks nicely? "

" Well , depends on the person wanting to do that or not but either way I think it's kind of inappropriate to just ask someone to do that "

His hands started shaking violently and he bursted into tears crying , the tears made his vision blurry as he kept trying to wipe them

" What does it me-ean if someone takes pictures of someone being naked a-and makes them do things that-t are weird "

Her heart sank when she realized what just happened in front of her eyes , he was the patient Wooyoung was talking about

" Seonghwa I'll ask you some questions and you'll have to answer them is that ok ? "

He nodded avoiding eye contact

" Did someone say you should take off your pants and you felt like that was wrong ? "

The boy slowly nodded sniffing

" Was is it guard Lee ? , You don't have to lie to me about this one here because I know "

His eyes shot into her direction as he panicked

" He-e promised not to tell and kept giving me presents ! I-I did not want to do that , he said I was a very pretty boy to be shared and promised to not tell anyone ! "

Seonghwa went on his knees as he screamed rubbing his hands together in a pleading way

" Please d-dont tell anyone ! I-I'm sorry ! please don't harm me ! "

She approached him and squat down in front of the boy

" I won't allow him to ever do this again, it is extremely wrong to make someone do anything against their will , he's crossed his boundaries "

Seonghwa looked so helpless and broken as he sat there sobbing, one thing she was glad is that they couldn't hear anything from outside since she always inactivates the speakers when she visited her patients it was something that was called privacy and respect, everything the patients told her stayed in doors and never reached out to anyone else

" Can you remember for how long he has been sexually abusing or better to say grooming you Seonghwa ? It's ok if you don't want to talk about it I'll wait for you to open up "

" What does G-grooming mean ? "

He sniffed looking completely confused to hearing the new word

" Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate , exploit and abuse them "

The boy bursted into tears again and suddenly hugged her , he was just to oblivious to even comprehend what that old man was doing

" It's ok Seonghwa , I'm here for you and as for today you will never do something against your will do you understand ? Repeat after me it is ok to say no when I don't want to "

" It is ok to say n-no w-when I don't want to "

She stroked his head slowly whispering that it was ok and reassuring him that it wasn't his fault and would never be

" C-Can you please protect me ? What if he finds out and comes to kill me ? "

" Did he say he would do that to you ? "

He nodded and snuggled closer sniffing

" He was nice at first than suddenly changed and one day he came into the toilet where I was washing my hands and said that if I even dared to tell anyone about our relationship he would kill me and toss my body in the woods "

She shushed him and kissed his forehead to which the boy hugged tighter and hiccuped for some minutes before calming down

" Listen to me , from now on I'll never leave your sight and tomorrow I'll pick you up for breakfast so you don't have to wake up and face that disgusting man alone do you hear me ? "

" Do you promise me that? "

" I promise you Seonghwa now go to sleep "

" Is there also a possibility to get strawberry milk on breakfast time ? I-I really like strawberry milk "

She smiled and nodded making her way out his room before her smile dropped she had something more important on her mind

Mission get to know Patient 0378 done

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez atiny #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez seonghwa #ateez san #seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #angst with a happy ending #kpop imagines

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theshireisburning-so-mordoritis · 2 years

Text

So Damn Sweet

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: None. There's just a lot of yearning. Honestly it's one of the softest things I think I've ever written and Steve deserves it.

Realistically, Steve should have known there was something going on when everyone, except you and him, suddenly couldn't make it to the breakfast that they'd all planned.

But he hadn't really thought much of it when Max said she was teaching El how to skate or when Eddie and the rest of the kids said there was important Hellfire stuff that needed doing.

Robin had picked up an extra shift at work and when Steve had shot her a briefly suspicious look, she had simply smirked and said something about how she needed to stop being broke and finally get a licence. Because it's not like he could drive her around forever and 'I can't be third wheeling when you finally get a girl willing to put up with you Harrington.'

And maybe he would have put it together if he hadn't been so god damn nervous. If there weren't butterflies in his stomach right up until he pulled up in front of your house and if his brain didn't stutter every time he thought of how it was just going to be you and him.

He didn't fare any better when you stepped outside, the same startling grin on your face when your eyes found his that had stolen his heart the very first time he'd seen it. There was a softness to how you were dressed that made him ache, all chunky-knit sweaters and pretty-coloured beanies, the scarf that Steve had given to you last year when you took the kids ice-skating and later you'd teasingly informed him he would never get back.

He couldn't help but hope that he never would if it meant he kept getting to see you walk around in something of his. The feeling he got in his chest when you would catch his eyes on it - smile half hidden beneath the dark wool, hopelessly shy, and your own gaze tinged warm.

It was one that lingered as you climbed into the car, a gust of cold wind entering with you that stirred at Steve's hair and blew the scent of spiced apple and vanilla from your body wash all around him, hands tightening around the steering wheel and teeth clamped because he was sure he would blurt out something stupid when he realised how the smell instantly brought him comfort.

"Hey." You murmured from beside him, voice soft, still a little thick from sleep like you hadn't fully woken up yet and Steve was pretty sure he felt something in his chest melt at the sound. "Is it just us?"

He replied without thinking, the pet name slipping too easily past his lips like it had always held a place on his tongue when he spoke about you, and he was too preoccupied with watching the road to be aware of the way you flushed in response. "Hey sweetheart." He hummed. "Looks like it, apparently everyone else has plans that couldn't wait. S'that okay?"

And it's not that he necessarily thought you would have a problem with it but he wanted to make sure anyway. Because you and Steve had never really done anything like this before, there was always other people around - the kids or Robin and Eddie, or any time you had spent alone together was either spent entertaining each other at work or in an alternative dimension, fighting for your lives.

This, right here and now, felt different and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to be there if you didn't want to be.

But then, to the boy's delight, you turned your head to grin at him, soft and warm, eyes bright. Looking every bit like you had always belonged in the passenger seat of his car, right beside him, just like this. "That's fine Steve." You told him. "It's their loss."

The drive to the diner that Steve had chosen, a little bit out of the way instead of sticking to the one in town, was simultaneously never-ending and not long enough.

An easy conversation flowed between you both whenever you wanted it to. The nerves that had fluttered in your belly at the realisation it would just be the two of you, slowly fading as you listened to Steve sing along to the music under his breath.

Only for them to then reappear with a vengeance when his hand occasionally brushed against your knee as he shifted gears.

Each time he would withdraw his hand, cheeks tinged a soft pink, his apology a little choked sounding as he coughed to clear his throat. And you had to pretend that every fleeting touch didn't burn, that you didn't wish you could catch his fingers with yours and pull his hand back to rest on your knee instead of telling him 'don't worry about it.'

By the time you were unbuckling your seatbelt, nearly tumbling out of the door in your need for fresh air, there was a heady kind of tension between you. A sweet ache that made you feel permanently too warm, too giddy each time soft, brown eyes landed on yours and he smiled that same devastating smile that had labeled you a goner from the moment you had met him.

He waited for you to join him around the front of the car before he motioned towards the place with a little ta-da, his expression charmingly pleased when you gave a delighted laugh before your gaze flickered to the quaint, little building, intrigued.

It didn't look like much at first glance but there was charm in its simplicity, all the decorations that they'd lovingly put in place for the season and the upcoming holidays making it feel almost homely and your heart undeniably happy.

"How did you hear about this place?" You asked curiously whilst walking to the door.

There was barely any space between you and every now and again you accidentally bumped arms or your fingers brushed, almost catching, so close to holding, but never quite.

And unlike in the car, this time there was no quickly pulling away. No muttering of an apology. Instead you both allowed it to happen like you were waiting to see if the other would pull away or if they'd be the one brave enough to move closer.

But neither of you did and Steve quickly pulled you away from thoughts of if you should when he answered,

"Joyce told me. Said she used to bring Jonathan and Will here all the time because Will was convinced they did the best cinnamon waffles and hot chocolate." He grinned softly, eyes golden in the light of the sun and his expression briefly hesitant when he drew his lip between his teeth before adding. "It uh, it made me think of you."

"You associate me with waffles and hot chocolate? Is it because I'm just so damn sweet?"

He shook his head with a huffed laugh, a rogue strand of hair falling into his eyes that you ached to brush away. "I wouldn't say that, well maybe, I guess?" He contradicted himself, cheeks a little flushed as he caught your amused stare. "You mentioned that cinnamon waffles and hot chocolate was your favourite that time we were at Robin's and– wait - shit - did I remember wrong?"

You were stunned. A little too much so that you couldn't answer him for a moment, simply blinking at him as Steve's face grew worried. He brought you back with a hushed murmur of your name and you were suddenly fighting to breathe against the flood of warmth in your chest.

"No, no, no, that's right." You assured him, a steadily beaming smile creeping across your face and Steve practically lit up with relief. "I just can't believe you remembered."

He snorted a little as he reached for the door and swung it open, a strong arm catching around your waist and pulling you into him to create a clear path for the elderly couple who were on their way out.

"I remember a lot of things about you, probably more than I should." His voice was softer than you'd ever heard it and if the boy heard or even felt the way your breath hitched then he didn't say anything. Simply smiling wide as the old couple thanked you and the lady cooed about what a cute couple you were and such lovely manners too.

And when you finally dared to chance a look up at him he was already watching you. The tension from the car ride returning, something electric brewing in the small space between you that apparently made the boy feel bolder.

"I did forget something today though." He mumbled, gaze a little warmer, a little flirtier, fixed on yours as he lifted his hand to tug high at your scarf, a light touch that caused his hand to barely graze the edge of your jaw and jesus christ, you couldn't fucking breathe. "Should have told you how pretty you look the moment you stepped foot in my car."

You hadn't even realised your hands had made their way to his chest, fingers caught gently in his jacket from when you had swayed into him. But his breath was warm on your face and his nose was bumping yours and you swore there was a question in those pretty, honey eyes as they flicked from yours to your lips and slowly back.

"I think I could maybe forgive you for taking this long." You whispered and he grinned, syrup-sweet and lazy.

"Yeah?"

It was a question that you so badly wanted to answer by tilting your chin and pressing your lips to his. You wanted nothing more than to push yourself further into him, ached to feel him wrap himself around you, arms tight and mouth warm and giving under yours.

But just as his lips brushed yours, the faintest echo of a touch, and you heard the boy's breath hitch, there was a crash from inside. The sound of a plate shattering and cutlery hitting hardwood loud enough that the two of you jumped and stumbled apart with wide eyes. Gazes a little shy now the bubble you'd found yourselves in had been popped, allowing the world to rush around you once again.

For a few moments you both just stood there, you chewed at your lip and Steve ran a hand through his hair, musing it further than the wind had already, and you almost wondered if nearly kissing your friend would have been a mistake.

But then you caught his eye and the laughter that came from you both sounded breathless but real, happy. And you could hardly bite back the smile when he tilted his head towards the inside of the diner and grinned.

"After you, sweetheart."

Main taglist: @autumnleaves1991-blog @ecuadorlady @readsalot73 @acourtofsnakes @justanotherblonde23 @tiffanyblew @alexmarie29 @simsiddy @dihra-vesa @gingerbreadandpaper @sleep-tight1 @prettylilhalforc @mstgsmy @wildmoonflower @aynsleywalker

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #promptober

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 1 month

Text

Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

Summary: Din introduces someone new to Ann

A/N: Hello lovelies,

I apologize for the late posting, last night I was so super exhausted I couldn't stay away and then today I was feeling so off. I think it was the weather, and although it was quite a migraine, it felt like the beginnings of one, so I slept most of the day.

Anyway, this is the last chapter for The Crestworld Part.

This series will be going on a mini hiatus while I work on content. So please bear with.

Love oo

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warnings: Brief anxiety, communication (so lovely), mutual understanding, flirting, intimidation, fluff, jealousy, annoyance, slight anger. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link | Words: 1,306 | Previous -> Next

Main Master List | Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

THE CRESTWORLD

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ann sat there blinking as she looked at Din, “Don’t look so shocked, you should’ve known I would’ve figured it out eventually, after all I’m sure Cobb couldn’t help himself, and told you I used to work for the army.” She simply nodded in the affirmative, “So let’s just say it’s not my first rodeo dealing with pseudonyms. My life was very different before Grogu came into it. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there.”

I wasn’t sure what shocked me more, the fact he knew my name wasn’t my real name, the fact he didn’t kick me out, demanding to know more, or even asking whether or not he and Grogu were in danger.

I took in a shaky breath and nodded, “Thank you for understanding.” My hands felt heavy and numb, I wanted him to know I would never endanger either him or Grogu, I’d die before that happened. I couldn’t with anymore blood on my hands, “Din, please know I’ll never put your family in danger. If … at any point I think you or Grogu will be in danger, I’ll leave. I’ll protect both of you.”

Din tilted his head and let out a sigh, squeezing her shoulder, “Listen, we’ll cross that bridge when and if we come to it. However, I appreciate you answering, even when you didn’t have to; and don’t worry about protecting us. I’m sure I can protect all three of us if the time comes.”

“I won’t put you in that situation, Din. I don’t think I could live with myself if I did. Anyways, it’s not like I answered a whole lot, but it only seemed fair, since you did open up about Camilla.”

“One hand washes the other, right?” He smirked, before turning his gaze towards Boba’s house, he noticed Boba was standing in the doorway of his home, “Come on, let’s have you meet one of the grumpiest ranchers around.”

I looked from Din to the rather handsome older man standing in his doorway, “Grumpier than you?”

“More or less.” Din chuckled as he stepped out of the truck, keeping an eye on Ann as she stepped out of the truck. He had a newfound respect for the woman who fought to get away from her bad situation, trying to find normalcy by escaping to the backwoods of Aq Vetina.

“Boba” he nodded towards the older man as he approached, Ann stood beside him. He kept an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, if there was one man he could trust Ann with, it was Boba. “This is Ann, my new farmhand. Ann, Boba Fett, Daimyo of Tatooine.”

Boba walked slowly down the stairs to meet them. His steps were heavy, the clink of his spurs echoing with each step, he wore all black as he stood before them. Even though Boba was six feet tall, his presence made him seem like a towering giant. His piercing eyes were made all the more intimidating as the brim of his cowboy hat dropped a shadow over his face.

“Tatooine?” I whispered.

“His ranch” Din motioned with his head over his shoulder.

“Ahhh … Daimyo?”

“Means Great Lord”

“Does that mean I have to bow?”

“You could” Boba answered as a smile rested on his lips, disarming those piercing eyes that saw more than he would ever reveal, “however, I would never expect such a beautiful woman such as yourself, to bow for me.” He offered his hand, “You can just call me Boba, mesh’la.” He gently took her hand, winking before he bowed, bringing his lips to her skin, placing the softest and gentlest kiss on her knuckles.

“Thank you” I smiled as I felt my face heat up from the attention, I cleared my throat as I gently pulled my hand away, despite how I enjoyed his warm calloused hands “may I ask, why Daimyo?”

“You can thank Fennec and this one here” Boba motioned towards Din, “for that, it started off as a joke one night, and soon became my title. Djarin, what can I do for you?”

“I came to pick up my payment from helping you, remember”

“How could I forget?” Boba smirked and motioned for the two to follow him.

As we walked through Boba’s ranch, I noticed a few things, first his place was a lot bigger than Din’s. Second, there were at least twelve different farmhands working at different tasks. I could see from just the quick glances I took, I tried to see the differences between the two ranches when a small bark pulled my attention. Inside one of the stalls in the barn were tiny beautiful Strill pups, “Oh my goodness, they are so sweet” I kneeled down to look at their sleeping forms. There were about seven pups, four had grey-ish coats, and the other three had gold-ish coats, with hints of white breaking through. “Where are their parents?”

“Their mom is currently wandering the perimeter of the ranch, while the father is probably off in the woods somewhere looking after its own litter.”

I turned to look at Boba who ended up kneeling beside me, “Woods? Own litter?”

“Strills are known to have hermaphroditic reproduction, they can equally sire and bear offspring with a second strill” Din answered.

“For a while,” Boba beamed like a proud father, “I noticed she’d been taking off at night, always returning home with no issues, but this time when she came back she was pregnant. Guess she just wanted to see the sights of what the world had to offer” Boba chuckled, “sort of like a wayward child, coming back to ask for dad’s help when they get knocked up.” His eyes held a tremendous amount of kindness and concern as he looked upon the pups, “Which ones did you want to take with you, Djarin?”

“You’ve seen them and gotten to know them more than I have, who do you recommend?”

Boba stood opening the fence, motioning for me to follow him, as we stepped in the pups stirred and began to move about. Watching them as they unfolded their six legs, their tiny noses appearing, each of them had the most incredibly happy eyes I’ve ever seen on an animal. Most shuffled around Boba’s feet, but two in particular, came and plopped themselves at my feet, sitting watching me. One was grey-ish with white and tiny flecks of gold hair throughout, the other was gold-ish with flecks of grey.

“It appears the two have decided for us,” he chuckled, “Annie, Djarin, meet your two new guard dogs, Dral and Mir.” Boba’s hand instinctively rested against Ann’s lower back, he leaned in, whispering in her ear as a smile graced his lips, “Clearly they have great taste, sitting at the feet of one of the most beautiful women around.”

Somehow those words coming from Boba’s lips didn’t feel cringy or overstepping, maybe it was his charming personality, or his brilliantly wonderful smile, but either way, it made my face feel heated, I couldn’t help the coquettish smile that appeared on my lips, “You’re quite the charmer, someone mentioned you were one of the grumpiest ranchers around, but truthfully after meeting you, I think they were just jealous of how charming you really are.”

“Don’t worry, little one,” he shifted his hand away from her back and tilted her head a little to look into her eyes, “I’m like fine wine, the longer you get to know me the better I get.”

Din’s eyes locked with the man who was a few years older than him, as Boba gave him a wink. For some reason it made him angry watching the interaction between Ann and Boba, he felt his body tense, his jaw clench, and even his hands tightened into a fist at Boba’s flirting.

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zmediaoutlet · 9 months

Text

this follows 'a vessel'

Sam cleans up. The wasted, half-used spell components go into the burn box. The turned-over chair picked up, and the shattered glass swept. The angel banishment sigil comes off the wall in the library pretty easily with borax and he drops the sponge in the bucket of swirled-red dirty water and could vomit. One last sweep and he finds two red drops, drying dark in the center of his research table. He takes a deep breath, chemical and stinging-clean. The spot comes off easily, too. There are a lot of good tricks they’ve learned for cleaning up blood.

The shower room’s empty. He strips the stolen sailor uniform and leaves it in a pile in the corner. The water comes down hot and he gives himself the space of twenty even breaths, in and out, to stand there and think nothing at all. Steam in his lungs. The pressure like needles at the back of his neck, only safe because it’s just water. When that’s done he washes his hair and soaps his body and gets the red rime out from under his fingernails, and when that’s done, when he’s toweling off in the bright quiet, it’s not—better isn’t the word. But the base he’s operating from isn’t as awful. That counts for something.

When he opens his bedroom door Deanna’s sitting on the edge of his mattress. “Thought you’d decided to run off to the navy,” she says.

She’s in what counts for her as full pajamas: those washed-to-death blue flannel pants, a black shirt of Sam’s she stole years ago. She has to roll the sleeves back over her wrists. There’s a glass of whiskey in her hand but it isn’t empty, and she didn’t bring the bottle for refills. She runs one thumb over the rim of the crystal and smiles very briefly at Sam’s face and then looks down at her hands.

Sam wishes he’d brought something with him to the shower. If it were another day she’d be making a crack about his towel. He sits beside her, carefully, and for lack of a glass he folds his hands between his knees. The bunker air cool on his shoulders.

A sigh. She stretches her legs out, toes pointed. Mostly unpainted these days, small and neat. Her hand turns over on her thigh and she seems to be looking at her palm, and then she sets her curled fist on Sam’s thigh instead. The smallest weight through the terrycloth.

“The sub went down?” she says. Sam nods and she nods, too, slower. “You try to save it?”

Delphine’s hands reaching into the case for the Hand of God. Red lights strobing all around and her eyes steady on Sam’s, sure, while a wildfire of grace roared through the dark ocean. “I think it didn’t make a difference whether I was there or not,” Sam says. He turns his head and Deanna’s biting her lip. The pressure in his chest feels like it’ll put him on the floor. “I wish I’d been here.”

Her eyes close. “I don’t know if that would’ve made a difference, either.”

Not said cruelly and it’s probably true. Some dumb male instinct claws at the underside of his heart, anyway.

The lump of wood is inert, now. He’ll wrap it in cloth and put it in a spelled cedar case in the archives and mark it down in the ledgers. Even if it ended up being pointless, except inasmuch as it made a mask fall to the floor.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out. Says, “Can I ask?”

Her toes scrunch against the concrete, then relax. Her fist still on his thigh, her eyes still closed. Face smooth and serene except for the bruise coming up on her cheek. From what exactly Sam doesn’t know; he’s been imagining it for the past two hours.

“Are you hurt?” he says, in the quiet. “More than…” Her head tips down and he licks his lips even though his mouth feels dry. “I just—I know he—when he—”

Her hand grips his thigh through the towel. “Sammy,” she says, interrupting, and he cuts off the stupid stumbling, his face hot. “Hey.”

“Sorry,” he says, and she shakes her head, and then shakes his leg gently, too. A weird deep pulse of what he’s got plenty of experience to recognize as shame goes through him as a wave, from the pit of his stomach to his chest to the hair on the back of his neck, and then he breathes it out and just feels cold. He takes her hand in one of his and she lets him, their fingers lacing together on top of his leg. Her fingers are cold, too.

“It’s not like it’s the first time,” she says, after a few seconds.

Almost like she’s trying to make him feel better. There are a lot of things he thinks to say but he’s got a lot of practice not saying things, especially when they’re all jostling for first place. She’s walking around and talking and not dead. There have been worse times. He knows there are others he doesn’t know about and probably never will. But this—he knows this one. His first and only. Not the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, not even the worst by those particular hands, but nothing he’d ever wanted to share with his sister. Thought they’d been spared this one thing.

“If it helps,” she says, when he’s been quiet too long, “it wasn’t—about me. He was screwing with Cas and he wanted to hurt you. Just collateral damage.”

“How would that help,” Sam says, before he can stop himself, and Deanna sighs and says, “I don’t know, Sam,” and pulls at their linked hands but Sam doesn’t let her go, instinct making his fingers tighten. He feels like an ass immediately but Deanna doesn’t tug away. Instead her body turns in, toward his. Her weight tipping and her temple coming down to his bare shoulder. She’s warm, her knee bumping his. Their hands vaguely sweaty now, together. He tucks her hair back behind her ear, thick and barely-damp from her own shower, and her face turns in toward his chest, her lips against his skin although she doesn’t kiss.

All the things he wishes hadn’t happened in their lives make a list that’d be near uncountable. This is pretty near the top. If wishes were horses—but they never have been, and never will. He runs his thumb over hers, careful where the nail tore. “What do you want me to do?” he says.

“Nothing,” she says. Then she takes a deep quick breath, almost like she got hit, and pulls her hand out of his and sits up and drags her fingers over her eyes, pressing hard into the sockets like it hurts. Then drops her hands, and looks out into the dim of the room, and presses her lips together very tightly in a white severe line, and then—blows out, slow, her shoulders sinking as she does, and then turns her head and looks at him in this way that’s just—tired, but only like at the end of a long day, when they’ve been through the wringer and a lot’s gone wrong but they’re still here, together, and despite everything the sun’s going to come up anyway.

“Put on some boxers,” Deanna says. One corner of her mouth turns up. “Exhibitionist. Then I want to sleep. I want you here. And you’re not allowed to bitch about cold toes.”

Sam truly doesn’t know how she does it. “Wouldn’t have to if you’d just wear socks,” he manages.

Her nose wrinkles. “Just accept your role as the human radiator, okay,” she says, and then drains her whiskey in one swallow and puts the empty glass on the bedside table. She turns back the blankets and climbs in while Sam obediently goes to his chest of drawers, and finds clean boxer-briefs, and Deanna watches him with her head propped on her fist while he drops the towel, tugs on underwear, goes to the sink and drinks a cupful of cold water and then refills the cup and brings it to her. She drinks it down, and he puts the empty next to the whiskey tumbler, and then he climbs in and pulls up the blankets and she folds herself in against his chest, her head under his chin and her arm around his waist and her toes freezing, always, against his skin. Reliable as gravity.

He presses his lips against the top of her head. Her breath shudders, once, and then she squirms in closer and lays still. His back’s to the door and he knows he won’t sleep but that doesn’t matter. It’s like that night, all those years ago, before they went to Detroit. His arm around his sister and his mind full of the devil. Knowing that he’d do anything to stop him from hurting her; knowing that to stop that was almost impossible; knowing that even if it were impossible, with the last ounce of strength he had he’d still try. What else is there to do.

#wincest #my writing #deanna #i keep thinking about this 'verse #idk if i'll ever write like a full narrative story for it #but maybe more random scenes like this one #some people live whole lives in random scenes #could work!#oh and uh #rape mention #although it's very oblique

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pearlsinmyhair · 11 months

Text

༄ breath of venus ༄

chapter six ~ eye of the storm

summary: venus bullies lopez a little. she and mansk have another moment. quaritch and venus find a little bit of calm. quaritch and lyle start to coparent. venus speaks spanish.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: cursing en español

authors note: ok guys, i’m so sorry if this spanish is not up to par. i cross referenced so many different sources, especially about the use of ‘chocha.’ remember how venus patted lyle’s head when she was a baby?

glossary

¿hablás español? - (do) you speak spanish?

Sí, lo estudié durante muchos años. Sin embargo, mi acento está fuera de práctica. - yes, i studied it for many years. however, my accent is out of practice.

Tu acento está bien. Sólo un poco rígido. - your accent is fine. just a little stiff.

Tus tatuajes son un farol, ¿verdad? - your tattoos are a bluff, right?

¿Qúe? - what?

chocha - pussy

eres terrible, niña - you are terrible, girl

Y eres crédulo. - and you are gullible

“all sins are attempts to fill voids.” - simone weil

“I don’t believe you.” said Ja from the bank of the spring they had stopped at. Venus was knee deep in said spring cooling off, and she laughed softly at his words.

“You can refuse to believe it. That doesn’t mean that it is not true.” she replied as she waded to the sand. “I swear to you, on all that I hold dear, that they are like my siblings.”

They had been traveling non-stop for nearly two weeks now, and their bodies ached with cramps and knots that never seemed to ease. It was Venus’s suggestion that they stop.

She knew the area by description, not experience. The Omatikaya had close connections with the Tawkami due to the latter clan’s trading outposts and routes. As tsakarem, Venus was given the responsibility of diplomacy and hospitality and was charged with greeting the visitors. Neteyam occasionally accompanied her, but his age made him quick to annoyance and uneasy with the tentative nature of alliance. She had not seen a trader since before the war, and she personally believed that they had hidden, at least from the Omatikaya and other clans of close proximity to Bridgehead.

Many of the marines had taken the opportunity to empty their packs and wash clothes. Venus even showed them some plants they could use to clean, not wanting to pollute the stream with the harsh soap they carried.

Quaritch notably did not participate, instead keeping watch whilst leaning against a nearby tree. He seemed determined to disassociate from anything Venus involved herself in, and it was beginning to irk her.

“What are their names, then?” Zdog butt in, and Venus waved a dismissive hand at her.

“It’s my turn now. You’ll have to save your question.”

It took three days for someone to break the silence of the group as they traveled. Quaritch had given Venus a throat comm and ear piece, but there hadn’t been much talking besides orders and directions. It was Lopez who had snapped whatever invisible tension that rested between her and the recombinants when he suggested a game.

It was simple: Venus and the squad would each have five questions that they would ask a day. Ten questions total over the span of twenty-four hours. He called it ‘trade’. Quaritch called it a waste of time. But they had tried it anyway, and it was working so far.

The squad had already asked her two questions: the one at which Ja showed disbelief of was if she had animal mounts besides her ikran. She had explained Pali, and then added that she had a close familial bond with a few thanators.

Venus pulled her songcord from beside her ear as she asked her question.

“Can I see your tattoos?”

She figured that it wasn’t too much to ask.

That was another rule: no deep questions. None that would entail revealing secrets, at least, both personal and war related. Said rule had been instilled by none other than the grumpy Colonel not twenty feet from where she stood.

Most of the squad had removed their tops to rinse off, so she got a pretty good view of most of their tattoos. The few that hadn’t stripped were Ja, Mansk, and Quaritch.

Zdog went first. The female recombinant hadn’t exactly minded taking off her shirt and standing in a sports bra. Next to Venus you look like a nun, Brown had joked. Venus whacked him with her tail and Z whipped his shoulder with her rolled up tank.

Unlike most of the others, Zdog’s tattoos were colored, and she even allowed the girl to trace the honeycomb-like structures across her arm. When her finger wandered to the snake with the inscription of ‘deathless’ on its scales, she met Z’s eyes and raised a brow.

The woman just chuckled, and Venus moved to the others. She deliberately saved Quaritch and Wainfleet for last. She lingered at Mansk, whose tattoo was covered by his shirt. He had flipped his sunglasses atop his head, showing his different colored irises.

“Eventually.” she said to him, referring to his covered tattoo. He nodded. “Eventually.”

When she moved on to Lopez, she had to bite back a grin. She had been waiting for this moment for some time now.

There was a human woman that had stayed after the war. She was beautiful, with dark curly hair and bronze skin, and her voice tilted with an accent that sounded delightful to young Venus’s ears.

The woman’s name was Lilliana, and she was one of the first avatars who interacted with her without fearing Neytiri’s wrath. Venus grew attracted to her and often went with her to the avatar tent, something that Neytiri greatly appreciated when she had Neteyam and Kiri, with Lo’ak on the way.

It was there that she got introduced to Reggaeton. She could still remember the moment that she heard the strings of a guitar and the bump of electronic bass when she was seven.

Long story short, she demanded that Lilliana teach her spanish, mostly so she could sing it, and partially so she could understand. Norm was able to procure language books and work pages while Lilliana helped instruct her and fill the gaps.

And it was for that reason that she easily translated the tattoo inked across Lopez’s chest.

Sepulturero.

She had nearly curled her lip in disgust when she first saw it, but then she decided that the irony of it was amusing.

“Gravedigger.” she uttered as she stood in front of Lopez, studying the way the word arched under his collarbones.

He raised a brow, eyes widening in slight shock. “¿Hablas español?” he asked softly.

“Sí, lo estudié durante muchos años. Sin embargo, mi acento está fuera de práctica.” she said as she shifted her attention to the tatted brass knuckles on his hand.

“Tu acento está bien. Sólo un poco rígido.”

She nodded at his words. As much as she’d love to sit and talk with him, she had much more pressing matters to attend to.

“Tus tatuajes son un farol, ¿verdad?” she said, allowing her voice to rise slightly in volume. The marines conversations had died down, now attuned to the way that Lopez’s expression shifted from surprise to anger at her words.

“¿Qué?” he questioned, his eyes hardening as her face shifted towards amusement.

“Your tattoos, they must be a bluff. There is a saying from a human book: any man who says ‘I am king’ is no king. I believe it to be the same with these markings. Why would you need to write it on your skin if your actions did not already prove them true?”

Lopez practically snarled at her, but this was not the first time that a man taller and older than her had shown such hubris. Having brothers honed her skills at humbling others, and she applied them when needed.

She smiled up at Lopez mockingly, cocking her head to the side in a silent challenge.

This was a common occurance between them. Lopez was the only one who truly entertained her antics, so she pestered him when she needed to let off steam. Be that through ikran chases or arm wrestling or death diving.

She knew she had touched a nerve, but she had learned Lopez’s emotions well. He was pissed, yes, but he wouldnt hurt her. He frequently insulted her back, so this verbal repertoire was relatively tame.

It was Quaritch’s insistence upon her stopping that angered her. And now was no different.

“Venus, Lopez, knock it off.” he called from the shade. Venus’s tail lashed as she glared over her shoulder at the Colonel. Every time she had any semblance of relaxation or fun, he was breathing down the back of her neck, treating her like she was some spoiled brat that he’d been stuck with.

Lopez followed his orders, though he shoulder checked Venus as he passed. It was that action that made her realize that she may have bruised his ego a bit more than intended, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

These were her captors, after all. She had no need to feel sorry for them.

At least, not about immature insults about tattoos.

She carefully removed the woven jewelry from around her waist as she stepped to the water once more. She set the strands and her armbands down on her bag before she reached up and untied her chocker from her neck.

She passed the piece to Ja, explaining how each little dark point was a claw or a tooth from one of her siblings when they were babies, and his eyebrows shifted up as he handled it with care, studying the necklace.

Venus walked over to a ledge that wasn’t far from where Lopez and Brown were now conversing good naturedly. Lopez’s shoulders still knit from her insults, and she smiled to herself. She checked to make sure that the water was deep enough as she stood on the edge of the rock.

She turned to them and took a deep breathe, recalling what Lilliana had always said.

‘If a boy or a man every gets a big head, you set him right. you plant your feet in the ground, turn to him, and call him una-‘

“chocha.”

Lopez turned to her so quick that she barely had time to squeak before he leapt at her, tackling her right into the water below.

For a moment there was nothing but splashing and churning white, and the recombinants watched in amusement as a blue foot appeared before slipping below the surface. When the water calmed and neither Venus nor Lopez rose to the surface, that amusement turned to slight panic.

“They’re gonna drown each other.” said Brown, who leaned over the edge to gaze into the deep water below. Due to their blue skin, he couldn’t pick out any figures. “They won’t drown each other. Venus will drown Lopez.” said Z confidently.

The soldiers turned to the woman, and she simply raised an eyebrow. “She’s really very strong, and she’s lived here for longer than we have. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t underestimate her.”

Quaritch walked up to look over the ledge, standing next to Brown.

“Ten seconds and we’re going in to get them.” he said, brow knitting as he too searched to no avail.

“We? Who’s we?” called Lyle, who stepped towards the bank of the river. “I’m not going to get Lopez’s sorry ass if he drowns. He tackled her, so he’s going to face the consequences.”

“Since when is everyone so confident in the kids skills at drowning people?” Quaritch asked, smirking at Lyle. His corporal looked to him with his head cocked to the side.

“If you paid attention to her, you’d not-“

Before he could finish his sentence, Lopez burst from the water, coughing and sputtering like a drowned cat. He looked like one, too, wet and pissed off. For a moment, the squad waited with baited breath for Venus to emerge.

“Im right here.” came a voice from one of the pools behind them.

And there she was, squeezing water from her hair like she had gone for a nice swim rather than wrestling a marine a foot taller than her.

Zdog was the first to break the silence.

“Who won?”

Venus flashed her canines in a quirked smile.

“Who do you think?”

Zdog fist bumped her, and Quaritch scowled. Z’s ears folded back, backing down, but Venus seemed to rise under his glower.

“He tackled me.” she said as she walked past him, making sure to sling some water from her hair onto his back.

She stepped to Lopez, who was catching his breath on his back on the sand. She reached out a hand.

“Eres terrible, niña.” he said as he took it. Venus pulled him up with a smile. “Y eres crédulo.” she replied.

As he walked away to his pack to get a clean shirt, Venus turned back to the Colonel and Wainfleet.

She wasn’t surprised by Quaritch’s tight jaw or tense posture, no. It was Wainfleet’s look of disappointment that seemed to cool her blood, but she became irritated just as quickly. What right did he have to be disappointed at her?

She simply scoffed and moved to a patch of sun to dry off and comb through her hair, refusing to acknowledge anyone for the rest of their time at the spring.

༄

Venus shifted against the bark of the tree, thinking that when she got the chance, she was going to hibernate on her mat at home.

While she never had qualms about sleeping in trees, constantly doing so was taking a toll on her spine. She practically had to wring herself out every morning to stretch, and the cracking that ensued made her cringe.

But being a hostage wasn’t a luxury, so she took it in stride. There were worse things.

Mansk had taken first watch, sitting a few feet from where she was. His sunglasses sat in his lap, so she was able to study his face. The way that his ears flicked told her that he knew she was looking.

“What are their names?” he asked, voice quiet as to not disturb some of the sleeping soldiers.

Of course he had remembered. Mansk paid close attention to things around him, and he must have mentally saved Z-dog’s question for later.

His eyes shifted to meet hers, and this time she didn’t shy away. He had grown comfortable with her over the past days, peeling back the layers that he concealed himself with as a defense mechanism.

Under all the stoicism was uncertainty and some insecurity. While they hid it well, the recombinants were not happy with their body switch. Venus could empathize: if she woke up in a human body tomorrow, she’d be devastated. So she didn’t push them to talk too much about the change.

She tilted her chin in question, and he gestured for her to come closer. She did, scooting her butt until she sat beside him, listening to his breathing as she thought of her answer.

She registered that Quaritch was awake and listening, though he tried to pretend otherwise. His ears pricked up, swerving to listen to their conversation as his eyes remained closed.

“There were five in the litter.” she said softly. “But only three live. A boy, Armua, died when the sky people returned, burned up in the fire of the ships thrusters. And a girl, Wa’su, died giving birth to her first litter.”

Mansk hummed, looking down at her without fully turning. She was thankful for it. While the wound of Wa’sus death had healed, Armua was still fresh. She remembered searching for him for weeks. He had been the one that was closest to her, having territory not far from the villiage.

She had found nothing but ash.

Some of the marines had risen now, woken by their voices. Lyle yawned widely as he shifted to look at them. Quaritch had given up his little ruse and took a sip of water before handing the flask to Lyle.

“The three are Tamar, Salínu, and Ke’muntxa.” she said, turning to address them as well.

Brown’s ears pricked up. “No mate.” he translated, and Venus’s brows raised in surprise. So they had been listening to her language lessons.

“Yes. She’s a female thanator who lives not too far from here. We flew over part of her territory. She’s the eldest of the group, though not by much. She is my favorite.”

“And she has no mate?” asked Mansk.

“Nope. She rejects every male that tries, fighting them and chasing them off her territory.” Venus answered, smiling fondly at the memory of her sister chasing her brothers away from her, viciously protective from a young age.

Lyle smirked. “Remind you of yourself?”

Venus’s smile sharpened. “Piss off.”

He raised his hands in a ‘I surrender’ gesture, laughing softly. “Just saying. I don’t see you with a mate either, V.”

Something about him smiling made her soften, like the grip around her chest loosened slightly. Lyle had all but ignored her this whole time, outright refusing to talk about the first three years of her life and the last three of his.

She couldn’t exactly blame him. It wasn’t the conversation to have lightly over their comms, but still. The way he looked at her, with his brow furrowed and words behind his eyes, hadn’t exactly helped the tension.

This was the first time that he really spoke to her, looking directly at her and smiling. He joked easily with the others, even the Colonel. But with her, he was distant and cold, only acknowledging her when necessary.

But just as quickly as the mask slipped off, he put it back on, and the warmth of his eyes vanished. Her smiled dropped as well, and she retreated back to lean against the tree. She settled back, and Mansk’s arm brushed hers softly.

She looked to Quaritch, meeting eyes with him. “I meant to tell you earlier, but we’ll be traveling straight through Tamar’s territory. He’s highly aggressive and very protective, so we may want to remain above ground for as long as we can.”

Quaritch nodded, laying back down on his back, stiff as a board. He didn’t like taking advice from Venus, but he was learning that her knowledge was useful when it came to protecting his squad. It was a silent truce of giving him morsels of information and him taking it like a child forced to swallow medicine herbs.

She watched him for a while, and after a few moments his eyes turned to meet hers. The shift in his face was barely visible, but his ears dropped, jaw relaxing as his eyes softened. It was odd to see his inner turmoil, and if Venus had been any less aware of others emotions she would have missed it entirely.

He broke the staring contest first, and she looked away.

The rest of the soldiers settled down, burying themselves in their packs to try and get some sleep before their own watch shift came.

She turned back to Mansk, opening her mouth when-

“Lights out, Venus.” came Quaritch’s low but stern voice, and her tail flicked irritatedly as she turned to look at him.

“You’re not my father.” she uttered, so low that only he and Mansk heard. Mansk inhaled sharply, pointedly turning his face away from whatever father-daughter confrontation was happening.

Quaritch leaned up once more to look squarely at her. “Fine, kid. I’m not, but I am the person in charge of keeping you in line. So get in your pack before I make you.” he practically hissed. Venus barred her teeth, ready to bite back when Lyle’s sleepy voice interrupted.

“Quaritch, let her do her thing. She’ll be fine.”

Venus turned to him, surprised at the casual ignorance of authority. Lyle was feircely loyal to Quaritch, following and respecting his orders always. But now he interviened on her bahalf?

Lyle’s eyes shifted to meet hers before glancing at Mansk, then back once more.

He winked.

Oh, Great Mother.

Her ears burned viciously and heat prickled the back of her neck.

Quaritch glared at the corporal before sighing and rolling over so that his back faced them.

She glanced around to see if anyone else had witnessed what just transpired, but everyone seemed asleep.

Seemed.

She leaned back against the truck of the tree, giving Mansk a disbeliving look. His shoulders shifted in a silent laugh, and she bumped her elbow against his in mock annoyance.

Mansk was…easy. Quiet. Now that she knew him, she hesitated to call him shy. He was more contemplative, not as brazen or cocky as the others. He could be when he got loose enough, but most of the time he was wound tighter than a bow string.

And she had made it her mission to loosen it. She didn’t know why.

Well, maybe she did.

“Your turn.” came his opening.

She reached up and rolled the beads of her song cord thoughtfully as she debated. She had two more questions to ask per Lopez’s rules.

“How old are you, really?”

Mansk leaned his head back to look up at the stars just peaking through the leaves. The stretch moved his shirt slightly, and Venus took a moment to admire the peek of his chest tattoo that poked through.

“Well, I was sent to Pandora when I was sixteen.”

Her eyes snapped up to look at his face. “That hardly sounds ethical.” she replied tentatively.

He hummed thoughtfully, putting the memories together in his mind. “I had an aunt who was pretty high up in the RDA, and she personally recommended me to the Colonel. I needed the money, so I took the offer. When I got to Hellsgate, I was technically twenty-one, but no one ages in cryo sleep. I was on there for four years before I died.”

“Twenty.” she murmured, thinking it over. How it would feel to have lost all that time but at the same time having no repercussions for it.

“Is it the same feeling now, having been gone for sixteen years?” she asked.

Mansk’s ears lowered, and she immediately regretted asking. But as soon as she opened her mouth to apologize, Mansk lifted a hand, silencing her.

“Kind of. I know that it should feel like a gap, but it feels like i was asleep. But then…that man isn’t me. I just house his memories.” he replied, and Venus had to fight the urge again to reach to him.

So that was how they felt? Like corpses, carrying on someone else’s lives.

She supposed that was what an avatar was. A vessel.

But they were not avatars. There was no body in the distance piloting them.

Words sat on the tip of her tongue, begging to fill the quiet between them. But she clenched her jaw and held them in.

Instead, she gently took Mansk’s raised hand.

He flinched, the touch unexpected, but she just cradled his hand in the palms of hers, spreading the fingers and studying them.

A beat of silence, only filled by the soft breathing of the soldiers around them, all asleep.

Mansk’s question filled the air without him having to say it.

What are you doing?

She didn’t answer it, instead tracing the lines that flowed down to his wrist. He shivered as her fingertips traced his veins. She pressed her thumb against the center of his hand, and his fingers curled reflexively.

“You are not him.” was all she said before she let the hand go. He retracted it slowly to his lap. Only then did she notice that he had fully turned to her and that their knees were brushing.

“I used my last two questions. You have two to ask.”

She didn’t look up into his eyes, she was afraid of what she might see in them.

It is much harder to kill something when you see it, granddaughter.

But sometimes it needs to be killed, regardless of its thoughts.

You have much to learn.

“How do you know english so well?”

Ah.

“My father always suspected, at least a little, that the war was not over. It was for that reason that he kept his english sharp. And as the eldest, I learned it as well. I understood it could be useful diplomatically.” she murmured, gesturing between them as if to say ‘see?’.

“And my vocabulary comes from reading and speaking to the scientists that stayed back. I love books, but I had to use a magnifying glass to see the letters without holding the pages up to my face.” she chuckled, swallowing awkwardly as silence filled the space between them again.

The thing about Mansk was that when he thought, you could feel it. Like a cloud of static enveloping you if you were close enough. And with his breath teasing the hairs on her forehead, she was easily close enough.

She studied the camo of his pants, tracing the designs with her eyes as he put the words together in his head.

“Why are you doing this?”

She looked up at that, only to be met with Mansk’s heterochromic irises.

The intensity of the stare made her swallow, and she was once again hit with the same feeling of being seen that she had tried to ignore weeks before.

“Doing what?” she asked, trying to play innocent.

“Talking to us, teaching us, warning us.” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

It was a question that had haunted her many sleepless nights. A fight of her heart and her morals. They are the enemy, they are people. They are redeemable, they will never be uncorrupt. She had not yet solved it.

So she answered honestly.

“I don’t know.”

His eyebrows knit at her response, and she could tell that he was unsatisfied with that answer. But he didn’t push it. Instead, he reached forward and gently traced his thumb along the veins at her wrist.

“Let me know when you do.” he said, with a note of finality that let her know that the conversation was over.

She let out a breath of air as she stood, unsettled with it. But she went to Quaritch’s bag, where he kept a spare bed roll for her.

“No complaining, you hear me?” he had said as he handed it to her.

She was grateful for it, but she decided to mess with him a bit. “Does Ardmore know that you took an additional roll for the savage girl?”

His eyes hardened, and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling something about “taking the high ground” as he stalked away.

The only available space around was next to Wainfleet. Otherwise, she’d have to climb, but the her head swam with exhaustion in a way that suggested certain death if she even tried to get higher up.

So she unrolled her pack along one of the intertwined branches and laid down, determined to get as much shut eye before sunrise.

As she stared up at the sky, Lyle rolled over, wide awake and bright eyed.

“That was a fucking train wreck.” he said, and she had to fight the urge to slap him. “You talk to everyone you’re interested like that?”

“Oh and i’m sure you were a real lady killer back in your day, huh. It’s not like that, anyway.” she responded, voice low as she turned to face him.

His smile was sharp. “Oh sure. And i’m still spry enough to kick you off that branch.”

“You won’t. You like me too much.” she said, chuckling.

The weight of her words thudded in her chest, too late to take them back.

He looked…frozen. Like he had been caught by a predator in the forest, deciding if he should run or fight.

She didn’t know exactly how long they stared at each other, but it was long enough for her stress to turn into frustration.

Now or never.

She reached her hand forward and set it on top of his head.

It was ludicrous, borderline comical as she sat up on her elbow with her hand on top of a killer marines bald head.

When he didn’t slap her palm away, or bite an insult, or kick her off the branch, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m her, Lyle. She’s still here.” she murmured, watching his expression carefully.

The moisture pooling in his eyes must have been a trick of her eyesight and the light of the bioluminescence around them.

She swallowed, pulled her hand away, and rolled so that her back faced him, begging the Great Mother to give her the sweet mercy of sleep.

༄

She awoke to the soft cooing of an ikran.

Her eyes fluttered as she took in her surroundings, checking each bed roll to see who was here.

The only one missing was Quaritch.

Go figure. He had taken the last watch, pressured by the others to get some rest. Now, as the sun began to rise over the horizon, she found herself searching for the man she was so determined to avoid.

The cooing sound rose through the branches again, and Venus stood to follow it to one of the branches on the opposite side of the tree.

She had instructed the recombinants on what branches to sleep on, and she had deliberately made sure that they slept on the side opposite the rising sun.

She rounded the tree trunk to find Quaritch trying to give Cupcake a tumpasuk.

She let out a soft whistle to alert them of her presence, and their heads both snapped to her. Cupcake let out a low hiss as she took a step forward, and Quaritch turned to the ikran and tutted her.

She watched as his ears suddenly shot forward, and he reached a hand to her.

Ah, so he had been paying attention to her and Mansk at Bridgehead.

She carefully grabbed his forearm, allowing him to pull her to Cupcake. The ikran hissed again before sniffing at her. She let out a snort of approval, and Venus raised her hand.

Cupcake snapped at her halfheartedly, but Venus had dealt with temperamental banshees all her life. She carefully slid her hand past the orange comb at the base of her jaw, finding the dip of skin along the underside of her head and itching.

Cupcake’s head dropped against her chest with a soft squeal, nudging her in a silent demand for more. She looked at Quaritch to find him staring at her wide eyed.

“How come she acts like a hardass to me, but shes all sweet with you?” he said softly, the question mostly rhetorical.

“Because i’m listening to her.” she responded anyway, rubbing her hands along the various divots that were hard for the ikran to scratch. She carefully grabbed the banshee by her chin and turned her to Quaritch, gesturing for him to continue her actions. When he did so, the banshee cooed gratefully.

“I was trying to feed her.” he told her as she settled down next to him, and she studied the fruit that he showed her.

She smiled. “Ikran do not eat tumpasuk. They prefer meat, always.” The colonel rolled his eyes.

She watched him try to bond with Cupcake, but there was something wrong.

“You’re hesitating to fully become one with her. It is why you struggle when you fly.” she said, resting a hand to his bicep to get him to stop. He turned to her in surprise at the touch, but she was already sliding under Cupcake’s neck to stand by her side.

She gestured for Quaritch to follow, pressing her ear to the banshee’s ribs. “Feel her breath, and then breathe with her. Start to become one with her before you even make tsaheylu.”

Quaritch did as she instructed hesitantly, pressing his own cheek to Cupcakes skin, feeling the pattern of her breath before trying to match it.

In and out.

She felt the coils of the ikran’s muscles loosen, and she gradually relaxed against her rider. Quaritch himself seemed less tense. Or, as less tense as he could possibly get.

“When you are ready, make the bond gently. Allow yourself to really feel her thoughts, her lungs, her strength.” she whispered as Cupcake lowered her queue to Quaritch.

The colonel brought his braid over his shoulder and carefully made tsaheylu. The ikran shuddered, and he whispered little reassurances. Venus watched as Quaritch slowly unfurled, allowing his mind to fuse with his ikran’s.

She had instructed many before him, but the change in him was the most drastic of all. His shoulders dipped, and she watched as the pairs breathing became simultaneous and connected.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but after what seemed like a century Quaritch opened his eyes.

“I’m still not letting you indoctrinate me into your little insurgency, kid.” he grunted, still pressing his face against Cupcake.

She sighed in mock disappointment. “I know.” she said, taking a step around the ikran back to the trunk. “But it was worth a shot.”

As she began to round the corner, Quaritch called out to her.

She turned, wondering if he was going to insult her.

“Thank you.” was all he said, and Venus nodded, retreating to the rest of the squad to wake them up.

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