#go to the tag for the comic above if you want to see my comic caps and tag commentary from immediately after i read it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojilvrs · 3 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ FUCK MY EX! (AND HIS BOSS) ceo!toji fushiguro x fem reader (2.7k)

repost from my old blog!!!

⁂ warnings: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI! toji’s not a bum, reader gets cheated on (not by toji), m receiving oral, pet names, degradation, rough sex, reader’s ex sees them at the end, unprotected sex, creampie, sex as a revenge ploy, some praise, foot on head during doggy (does this have a technical name lol?), also tagging foot fetish JUST IN CASE the last thing counts lol, toji coerces reader, use of the name ‘daddy’ ONCE, spanking, some aftercare, toji steals your panties (and your heart), reader has hair long enough to be pulled

⁂ a/n: this fic literally came out of nowhere i had no plans of writing until i saw twitter porn and a little lightbulb formed above my head. anywho this is not great i wrote and proofread it while i was sleepy so if there’s mistakes don’t tell me i will get embarrassed!!!! THE PACING MIGHT ALSO BE HORRID i was just trying to get my claws on some fictional wiener. k luv u alllll <3

You never thought you could get this low.

You also never thought you’d come home to find your now ex-boyfriend balls deep in his coworker he told you not to worry about.

Way past the stages of hurt and with no more tears left to spill, you found yourself angry. You were pissed at your ex for being unfaithful. Pissed at the woman for fucking around with a man she knew was not available. And pissed at yourself for not figuring it out sooner. Once you got over your sorrows and finally felt able to pull yourself together, you just wanted to rid your apartment of anything that reminded you of him.

That's how you found yourself across the table from that rat bastard's boss. A box full of his old shit perched in your lap and your nails tapping the side of the cardboard. Scanning the room of Mr. Fushiguro's luxurious office and finding yourself filling with rage all over again knowing that the last time you were here, you were helping him get promoted.

"Pleasure seeing you again," you watched as Mr. Fushiguro took a seat in his plush office chair, "though it appears you're here to play the part of 'scorned girlfriend' instead of ‘concerned girlfriend, hm?’ Word travels fast ‘round here.”

"Ex-girlfriend."

"Right," he clasped his hands together over his chest and kicked his feet up onto his desk, knocking over his name plate, “so what're you here for, scorned ex-girlfriend?"

"Just want to give his shit back. Passing it on to you so I won't have to see him and blondie going at it in your breakroom." You watched the man crack a smile before speaking again.

"S'all you’re gonna do?" He knew your answer by the way you tore your eyes off of him and focused them on the box in your lap instead. Slightly slumping down in your chair as if you were a child in trouble trying to evade the scrutinizing gaze of a parent “Oh, don’t tell me you’re just gonna let bygones be bygones and let him get away with it scott free.”

His tone made you feel like your entire situation was almost comical. You looked back up and narrowed your eyes at the man. Scanning his face and watching the scar on his lip twitch when the corner turned up in a smirk.

“Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Don’t have to be all formal now, call me Toji.”

“Okay, what exactly are you implying, Toji?” he sighed before standing up from his desk and fixing his name plate, smirk never falling from his lips and eyes never leaving yours.

“I know he is my employee, but i’m not really… fond of him either. And you’re too pretty of a girl to just let him get away with cheating. It’d make you feel better to hurt ‘em a little bit. Get a little revenge.”

You broke away eye contact from him again to look around his office. Taking note of how sparsely decorated the area was as you pondered and tried to avoid his eyes. It wasn’t the most mature or logical decision, but he was right. It would make you feel better to make him hurt just a little bit. “And how exactly might I go about that?”

Toji laughed a little as he walked around the desk, taking the box out of your lap and placing it on the floor before settling himself behind you. The sweet tobacco scent of his cologne invaded your nostrils as he got closer to you, making his presence feel almost suffocating.

“Y’know what would really get him?” His voice sounded as if it were laced with a honeyed sweetness. The sound surrounding you and ringing around in your ears. He shifted his feet, but you still felt the heat radiating off of him and onto your back.

“What?”You felt him grow closer. Leaning down behind you. So close that you could feel his breath fan against your skin.

“Fuckin’ his boss.”

The lewd suggestion tickled the shell of your ear. Your eyes widening and mouth going dry once you realized exactly what he was proposing to you. You opened your mouth to protest. To tell him how absolutely ridiculous that was, but your words fell short. Closing your mouth again to look down and stare at the indentions the corners of the cardboard box had left in your skin.

You couldn’t say that you hadn’t let your eyes linger a little too long at Toji Fushiguro. Always noticing how easy he was on the eyes when your ex would make you tag along to work events. How his suits would perfectly contour to his body. Showing off his bulging muscles through the fabric. How he seemed to tower over you and everyone else with his height and domineering presence. How your gazes would linger a little too long on each other and how his fingertips would “accidentally” graze your hips when passing you.

You were taken away from your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing up and down your jaw. His touch soft, contrasting the rough calluses that lined his fingers. You also realized he had now moved directly in front of you and you were eye-level with his crotch.

“What’ll it be, sweetness?” The tip of his thumb travelled up to your bottom lip, smearing some of your lipgloss. “Y’gonna let me help you get back at him?”

You slowly looked up at him and nodded your head, still not trusting any words to come out of your mouth. He smiled down at you, removing the hand on your chin to pet your head and using his other to unbutton his slacks.

“Gonna make you feel so good, you’ll forget allllll about your little ex-boyfriend.”

You were still looking up at him dumbly as he freed heavy cock from the confines of his pants, subconsciously parting your lips and slightly sticking out your tongue at the sight of him. Relishing in the way he looked at you and the noises he made once his cock makes contact with your awaiting tongue.

“Already so good and fuckin’ obedient. Did he teach you that?” You shake your head and he cackles. Easing his way into your throat. “So you’re just naturally a whore, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, not even hard enough to sting, and moves from petting your head to gripping your hair once you take him all the way into your mouth. Testing your limits and pushing his way past the tight ring of muscle in the back of your throat, loving the way you choke and sputter around him. “Takin’ me so good. Bet that motherfucker couldn’t properly stuff your throat.”

Toji’s right- he couldn’t. He also isn’t quite as big as Toji is either, in both length and girth. It also seems that the man in front of you didn’t learn to fuck from porn like your ex did. Only pushing your limits a little bit at a time and not throatfucking you from the get-go. Also making sure you’re not suffocating on him for too long.

You began to move your tongue over the vein that ran on the underside of his cock, watching in satisfaction as he throws his head back and groans. Doing it again and again and watching his face contort in pleasure.

“Shit, baby, got the sweetest fuckin’ mouth.” His voice is huskier now, almost breathy. You watch as sweat begins to lightly bead across his forehead and his hands come off of you to loosen his tie around his collar. The air becoming too thick and hot for him. You suck him off with much more passion as you get used to his size. Bobbing your head up and down his length and occasionally pulling yourself off to lick on the sensitive skin around his balls. Not paying much mind to the spit that has run from your mouth and covered the bottom half of your face.

“That’s it- hah- fuck yeah… that’s it. Gonna cum down that pretty fuckin’ throat” You kept up your ministrations, using your hand to lightly squeeze his balls as you took his full length down your throat once more. Listening as Toji’s pants became progressively more and more uneven. Only taking a few more short moments before his abs tighten and he takes in a deep inhale as he shoots his load down your throat. His leg twitching as the coil in his belly snaps. Pulling off of him to stick out your tongue and show him that you swallowed it all.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?” He gripped your chin tightly and you nodded your head dumbly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He smiled and gestured for you to walk over to the plush, black couch he kept in his office. A guiding hand resting on your lower back as he layed you down on your stomach. He took his time running his hands from your calves all the way up to your ass, like he was trying to memorize every dip in your skin. Once he reached the hem of your skirt, he flipped it up. Gently running the palms of his hands over the smooth skin and giving the right cheek a harsh slap and soothing the sting with the very same hand that inflicted it.

“Suckin’ dick make you this wet?” Your slick had soiled your panties, smearing onto your thighs. His fingers lightly ran across the soaked fabric. You felt the couch dip under his weight as he settled behind you, feeling the fabric of his haphazardly pulled down pants and the heat of whatever skin that was exposed press into you.

“Sucking yours does.” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side to make contact with your swollen clit. The cool air of his office hitting your soaked center makes you shiver. “You’re gentler than I thought you’d be.”

“Oh baby,” He pauses, taking his hands off of you to maneuver himself around, “you haven’t had the worst yet.”

You’re comfused until you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance and begin to push in. Your walls greedily sucking him in even though it felt as if he was splitting you in two.

“Tight as a fuckin’ virgin, y’gotta open up for me, girl.” His fingers rub tight circles on your clit. Using that to his advantage to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into you until he’s bottomed out. Your hips arching into him as any remnants of pain begin to wash away and are overtaken with white-hot pleasure. His hands find purchase on your hips as his thrusts begin to speed up. Going harder into you and somehow hitting you deeper each time, causing tears to spring in corners of your eyes.

“Already cryin’ on my cock and we’ve barely even started? Slut can’t handle it?” He slaps your ass again, not caring if it stings. You furiously shake your head as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. Trying your hardest to match his brutal pace with your own hips. “Oh, you think you can take control now, huh? I’d watch it, little girl.”

At first you think he pushes your face into the couch with his hand. That’s until you realize that both his hands are still on your hips and it’s actually his foot that’s found its place on the back of your head as he continues to fuck the memory of your ex out of you. Your pussy clenching down on him at the mere thought of the position.

“Like being treated like a whore don’t you? Shitty man couldn’t do it like I can.” You couldn’t respond back even if you tried. Too caught up in the feeling of being stuffed full by the most skilled man you’ve ever fucked and biggest cock you’ve ever taken. Writhing under him as the pleasure of his tip repeatedly hitting your spot over and over again was becoming almost too much.

Toji must’ve felt the way your pussy began to tighten around him or how your moans were so loud the couch wasn’t muffling them well anymore. His hand snaked around your hip and back down to your clit to rub shapes on it, bringing your closer to your peak.

“That’s right, cum on this cock baby. Hah- cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” He spoke to you through gritted teeth and the sound went straight to your core. It wasn’t long after that your back slipped into a deeper arch and your cunt clenched down on him even harder. A white ring of cream forming around the base of his dick as he worked you through your orgasm and worked himself closer to his.

“Such a good girl. You’re gonna take my cum, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?” You nodded a quick yes, pussy still quaking from your orgasm. the only thing keeping your hips from collapsing into the couch being the vice grip of his strong hands.

The foot pressed into your head was removed and replaced by his right hand gripping your hair and pulling you up to meet his face. Looking him in the eyes for the first time since he started fucking you and seeing the beast of a man he’s become. Pupils blown, hair messy, and face sweaty as his grunts get louder, more aggressive.

“So pretty baby. You’re my good, pretty girl, right? C’mon, daddy a kiss when he cums. You’ve been so. fucking. good.” The last of his words were punctuated by rough thrusts into your heat. His heavy balls slapping against your clit so hard it was making you jump. You craned your head back even more for your lips to meet his in a sloppy, lust-filled kiss as he lets out a final rough grunt into your mouth. The familiar warmth flooding your pussy as his thrusts begin to let up.

He’s gentle with you for the first time in a while, gently resting your head back down to the couch before slowly pulling his softening dick out, tucking it back into his underwear, and smoothing your skirt back down. Rubbing a hand over the arch of your back and letting you rest on his couch as he pulls off your soiled panties and pockets them for himself. Also noticing a patch of your slick that has soiled the front of his pants and smiling as a mix of both of your releases begin to trickle out of your spent hole. Using two of his fingers to push it back in. The room is quiet for the first time in a long while. Only sound being the oscillating box fan in the corner of the room. It says quiet for a while, until you break the silence.

“Don’t even think I can remember the fucker’s name anymore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turn over onto your back to face him, watching closely as he fixes his suit to the best of his ability. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, if you’d like.”

He turns to face you, smirking again, “Can’t say I’d hate that.”

It’s your turn to smirk at him before letting your head roll over and rest again. Consumed with the thoughts of how that was definitely the best revenge plan you ever participated in.

You’re almost drifting off until that same thought wakes you up again. Sitting up to look at Toji.

“Wait, how was any of that a revenge ploy if he didn’t even see it?” Toji smirks, fixing his tie. Not even a second later you hear a knock on his door before Toji gives the visitor permission to enter.

“You wanted to see m-“ Your ex stops mid-sentence once he sees you lounging on his employer’s couch with his cum leaking out of you. “Wait, what is she doing here?”

“Baby brought your shit by.” Toji kicks the box towards him as he pulls your panties out of his back pocket and swinging them around his index finger. “Anything else you need? Or do you just wanna watch me fuck your ex-girl again?”

#forgive me if my blog gets annoying as I repost 🤞#female reader #jjk ‪♡#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

2K notes · View notes

itostea · 11 months

Text

hot things bllk boys do as your boyfriend (rin, shidou, nagi & chigiri)

warnings: suggestive in shidou’s part, reader is called pretty girl in shidou’s part

credits to whoever did this idea first! and repost bc i forgot tags oops

rin:

poking the side of his mouth with his tongue whenever you’re showing him a new outfit 🤭🤭

“So what do you think?” You beam with a grin, doing a twirl for him to get a 360 of your clothes. A half-empty bag is disregarded on the side of your shared bed. You can see your reflection on the side mirror and how the fabric fits around your waist. The dress isn’t anything special in design but its intended use is to be frame flattering–the kind of dress that you can wear on any occasion. It’s one of the few things you came to really like from your online purchase and insisted Rin see. In the end, you ended up forcing him to sit through your haul (not that he really minds).

Teal eyes flit from side-to-side and subconsciously, his tongue pokes the side of his cheek. The scrutiny, though it shouldn’t, makes you nervous. You don’t think he’s yet to understand the effect he has on you. Comically, you straighten up when he’s about to speak, making him raise a brow in question. “The dress’s a bit short.”

“But it’s cute right?!” You whine, doing another twirl for emphasis and stepping closer to him.

“It’s not bad.”

“Huh? Are you sure? I thought this was one of the better picks…” You frown, your spirits dying as you were excited to show him the dress.

“It only looks good because you’re wearing it,” he speaks frankly, leaning back to observe you again. Like before, his tongue probes at the inside of his cheek whilst studying you.

You try your best not to react and try not to squirm underneath his gaze and how effortlessly good he looks. “H-Huh? Yeah thanks…”

“Why are you acting shy now?”

“I’m not!”

shidou:

hand placement. that’s it.

“Ryu! Get off of me!” You sigh for nth time, helplessly writhing underneath him. “At least take a shower first before you hug me…”

“You complain too much baby,” he taps the side of your cheek with a boyish smile. “Can’t believe my girl can be so mean. After a day of tiring practice too.”

“Uh huh, I’m pretty sure it was only tiring since you’re always butting heads with Rin.”

He ignores your insult and instead leans up. “When were you on first name basis with that bastard?”. Little strands of hair fall over his forehead and his pink eyes glow above you. From below, you can really see the product of his hard work. His sweat still clings to him but that only draws more attention to his biceps and muscles. You see a smug smile on his face, realizing that you were caught gawking at him.

You avert your eyes with embarrassment written all over your face. “Shut up, I wasn't looking. And besides you literally call him Rinrin.”

He only bursts in laughter. “I didn’t say anything yet! Awh I didn’t think you’d get jealous!”

“Huh?! Aren’t you the jeal–!”

He interrupts you with another pat on the cheek. “Well don’t worry I won’t call him any nicknames reserved for you. Alright sweetheart? Or did you like baby more? Or was it pretty girl?” He teases leaning closely to you, pressing kisses over the crevice of your neck with a coy grin. His grin only widens when you gasp and whisper-yell his name when he bites down softly on your neck. “You wanna join me in the shower?” He breathes against your neck.

You’re not a fool to miss the hidden meaning behind that offer, well aware that the two of you weren’t just going to shower. “I gotta run some errands,” you say half-heartedly, not really convinced that you want that.

“Yeah?” He chuckles close up to your neck before he props himself with his arm bent while the other pushes your lips closer to his. Your body jolts as his hand creeps down to rest on your neck–with his thumb rubbing little circles over the fresh mark he just left. When he disconnects from your lips, a familiar gleam in his eyes draws your attention. “Still don’t wanna join me?”

“My errands–” Another kiss. A gentle squeeze to your neck as he deepens the kiss. You can’t find yourself to be mad when you feel his grin against your lips. In vain, you try to muster up a glare as you purse your lips. “Ryu–!”

Again. Only this time that hand slides down to rest at your hip. The sound of his lips against yours is enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. And he doesn’t seem like he’d be backing down either.

“Okay fine! I’ll join you in the shower, you demon!”

“Knew you’d come around.” He pulls you up and only returns your glares with a cheeky smile.

You pout as he gathers you in his arms, not finding much in your heart to push him away. “You did all of that on purpose didn’t you.”

“So what if I did babe? It always works doesn’t it?”

nagi:

literally lifts you like it’s nothing 😭😭😭

“We gotta go pretty…C’mon, get out of bed.”

“Don’t wanna…”

Nagi finds the situation to be amusing, seeing as the roles are reversed with you being the lazy one and him trying to pry you awake. He’s not usually one to wake up early but after the release of a new game he’s been wanting to try, he wanted to get his hands on it before it sold out. Again, he tries to gently shake you awake, suddenly gaining a newfound respect for you–seeing as you dealt with similar situations involving him.

“Why can’t you just go alone?” You whine, covering your face with the blanket.

“You said you wanted to try that bakery’s pastries, didn't you?”

“Can’t you just get them for me after you finish buying the game…” You mumble.

Nagi sighs. He could. But he doesn’t want to. Call it selfish but he doesn’t want to go alone. It’d be such a hassle if the line was long and he’d be waiting by himself–without you to talk to. “Nope. Can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You complain for another time, your voice muffled by the blankets. You hear the ruffling of the blanket and how the bed flattens with his knee. Your hands come to cover your eyes from the early sun streaks peeking into the room, scowling once you see your boyfriend holding the blanket in between his hands.

He looks at you blankly. “Don’t make me carry you…”

“Huh? As if. You’re too lazy to do all that work–! Sei?!” Suddenly, you’re a few feet up, face-to-face with a fluff of white hair. Your look of shock brings a small smile to Nagi’s features and he can’t help but pinch your cheek in between his fingers, positioning you so you could fit in his arm.

“I wouldn’t really call this work. This wouldn’t even count as a workout either…” he glances at you, proceeding to carry you to the restroom so you could get ready. “Let’s get you more awake ‘kay?”

You blink. You’re awake now. Completely. Sometimes or maybe too often, you forget the extent of your boyfriend’s strength and that’s always given him an advantage in the element of surprise. Even now, you gape as he continues to handle your body in his arms as if this was just a stroll in the park.

“Hey…I can walk there myself…” You protest weakly, opting to cross your hands rather than resist.

“Nah, don’t want you running away from me. Of course if that happens, I’ll just have to carry you again.”

chigiri:

maintains eye contact with you all the time 😩😩

A hand brushes over your shoulder as you’re doing your skincare, applying the moisturizer carefully over your face with your eyes fixed on the mirror. Glancing at your boyfriend, you tilt your head. “Yes?”

“Don’t apply your moisturizer like that. Do it like this,” he motions with his fingers, only smiling when you only blink. “Here let me do it.”

With a nod, you face him, allowing him to massage the product onto your face. “Feels nice, Hyoma.”

“I bet,” he mumbles quietly, lightly chuckling as you make a noise of displeasure when he rubs a spot too hard. Rosy eyes watch you carefully as his nimble fingers continue to massage in the residue of any leftover product. You feel yourself getting a bit bashful underneath his gaze, preferring to just avert your eyes to the side while he continues to apply the cream on you. “Not gonna look at me?” He teases, collectively deciding to just finish your skincare routine for you.

His fingers reach over to grab onto your lip balm, unclasping the container and gathering a reasonable amount on his finger. With his thumb and pointer finger, he holds onto your chin and smooths the substance over your lips. You try not to tense from his hold, still stubborn in ignoring his gaze. “I am looking at you.”

“Right,” he laughs. “Anddddd there. Done.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally peeping a look to gaze at your boyfriend. He’s still smiling, only this time his eyes crinkle at the sight of you looking so meek.

“You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

Your hands cover your face as a sound escapes your throat. “Please stop, you're gonna kill me here.”

#rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei #shidou ryuusei x reader #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #ryusei shidou #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #chigiri #chigiri hyoma #hyoma chigiri #chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #fluff

3K notes · View notes

lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

Text

Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

Commissioned art by @ejpuki on Instagram, same as the one above, this is just a link to the original post. Please support the artist 🖤

Synopsis- in an AU where fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic. Word Count 4.5k

Pt 2, Pt 3 1, Pt 3 2 , Pt 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9

T/W: 18+ only, minors DNI, alcohol, drunkeness, mature language, implied masturbation, some sexual content/fantasizing, some self-deprecating language (reader is insecure), age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

This is my first EVER fan fiction piece! If you have a crush on Miguel O'Hara from Across the Spider Verse, this is for you...

---

"Next song is for all the bad bitches in here tonight, let's make some noise." As soon as the song starts you recognize that it's Agora Hills and a switch goes off in your brain as you yank your friend, Hailey by the arm to the dance floor while she struggles to get the last sip of tequila sunrise down the hatch as the ice cubes attack her face.

It was a Saturday night, now very early Sunday morning in mid-November. You and your two friends are in a slightly seedy club in Brooklyn. Right now, all three of you are trying to escape the first-world problems of modern day society, and common issues that would plague late-twenty year old adults like stagnant jobs, anxiety-inducing texts from distant family members about plans for the holidays, and a casual fling that started to sour about 3 days ago.

Right now, all you want to do is dance to this song. And go home for some relief because the tequila is making you horny and your situationship hasn't texted you back for going on 16 hours now.

You and Hailey giggle as you both throw your heads back in bliss to the music, holding each other's pinkies as you try and awkwardly spin on the dance floor.

"Wait!" Hailey calls out and stutters as she lets go of you and tries to squeeze through a sea of musk, 5- Gum, and Bath and Body Works perfume back towards your other friend, Brin, who's still at the bar.

"Fuckkk. Whatever girl." You drunkenly roll your eyes and close them again, throwing your arms in the air, moving to the beat. The song is making you feel even more electrified than before. You toss your head back and move your hands from your shoulders, to your chest, down to your thighs. It's one of those moments where you feel dangerous.

God I love being a woman! You picture going home with a stranger. A tall man's lips crashing down on yours in your dark bedroom in drunken passion, falling backwards onto your bed. You picture yourself pulling your clothes off slowly while his hungry eyes scan your curves…

Your fantasy is interrupted when you feel a clammy hand touch your hip, just below where your see-through top ends. Your eyes shoot what you hope is an annoyed look at the offender. A brown haired guy in a white t-shirt with a flannel who looks like his name is Tanner, smirks at you as he moves past you, but not before letting his eyes dart to your cleavage line under your black bralette. You groan and move the other direction and realize Hailey and Brin are nowhere to be found. Your drunkeness wears off for one second as you slowly jerk around, trying to make your way towards the bar.

A tall brunette with a half sleeve tattoo, glasses, and her straight brown hair in a claw clip is counting her drawer.

"H-have you seen my friends?" you ask her stupidly. The tall brunette looks at you, her small sticker name tag on her baseball tee shirt reads "Reagan."

"I can't hear you, hunny." Reagan has seen this a million times. "Last call just ended. Do you have a ride home? I said, do you have a ride HOME?"

Reagan leans over the bar, holding onto your wrist. Her breath smells good at least.

"Okay look, can you hand me your phone please? Let me help you order an Uber." You blow air out of your lips like a horse and sloppily hand her your phone. "Enter your passcode, please."

You type in your passcode and watch the glint from your phone reflect on her glasses as she orders an Uber for you. Luckily, your address is already saved to the app. "Okay, sweetheart, wait here with me. Miguel is coming for you in 4 minutes." She hands you back your phone and credit card. "Sign here please."

Fuck, did I transfer that 200 from my savings before I got here? You think as you sign the receipt she hands you. The total is $58.75. You scrape the tiny excuse for a pocket inside your skirt and hand Reagan a crumpled up 20 as a tip. Reagan takes it, eyes widen a little bit at the sight of the 20.

Did she mean to give me this much?... Fuck it. She gives you a small, concerned grin.

"Thanks... let me get you some water."

You nod and slump your head forward on the sticky bar.

Suddenly Reagan is shaking your shoulder.

"Hey! Your ride's here!"

You realize you might have fallen asleep temporarily. The room is still moving like you're trying to balance on a waterbed. She places a styrofoam to-go cup in your hand filled with ice water as she grips your left arm.

"Here, just take off your shoes, hunny." She bends over and pulls off your clunky heels and holds them in her free hand. You feel like you're 4 years old. You feel tears well up at the sudden kindness.

"Okay hunny it's okay, come on now." She pulls you outside and to the curb where a black Audi is waiting. The cold air assaults your bare legs and your teeth start to chatter. The driver recognizes his passenger is quite inebriated and gets out, walking towards the struggling pair.

You feel your bedroom eyes creep up when you see him. Oh no, he's hotttt!

You curse in your head silently for not checking your reflection before he got there. You're sure you're a hot mess though.

He's tall, huge, even. Definitely way over six feet. Dark tousled hair with dreamy brown eyes underneath sculpted brows are locked on you as he gets closer. You instinctually run a hand through your hair, trying to make it look more voluminous. Probably a lost cause at this point.

He's wearing black joggers with some worn Nikes. His black hoodie is baggy but you have a very good imagination. It covers a set of broad, wide shoulders and what you're sure are bold chest muscles underneath that lead to a delicious pair of V lines and an endearing happy trail of hair running down his belly button that lead directly to his-

"Can I carry something for you?" His rich voice pulls you out of your indecent thoughts for one second then sends you right back there again.

"Um, yes can you get her shoes please?" You hear Reagan's voice go up an octave.

Girlll me too. You think to yourself.

Miguel takes your heels in a pair of strong, large hands. As he does, he tugs his sleeve and checks a black Apple watch, veins running up a thick forearm. Called it. This guy was jacked. Probably a gym bro. Definitely has a girlfriend. You feel yourself get sucked back into reality. You were probably a 7/10 at best. And right now, probably a strong 4 after your shenanigans tonight.

Miguel opens the back door, allowing Reagan to tuck you in.

"Get home safe hunny," she says.

"Thank youuuu," you slur back to her as you sit, disheveled with your sippy cup of ice water in the backseat opposite of the driver's in front. Miguel gets in the driver's seat, the scent of Old Spice seeps in.

He smells good too?! You feel yourself wanting to sin. He sits in the front seat for a few moments in silence, fiddling with his phone.

"2949 Ocean Parkway?" he asks in his mesmerizing voice.

"Yeah, that's right." You feel yourself perk up. You're starting to sober up slightly but you still have enough liquid courage left to start asking him a lot more questions than you normally would.

"Your name's Miguel?"

"Yes," he answers. "Did you have a good night tonight?"

"I did! It was supposed to be girl's night, I'm not sure what happened to them, though."

"Your friends left you?" His dark eyes glance in the rearview mirror at you.

Sighhh "Yeah, I guess they did."

"You need better friends." One of his hands comes up and grips the shoulder of the passenger seat as he sits up and looks over his shoulder, his eyes meet yours for just a moment, then focus on the back window as he pulls out of the parallel parking spot. You can't help but stare at his chiseled jawline and his neck, imagining yourself planting a line of kisses on it while he groans and grits his teeth...

"You know what sounds amazing right now?" You ask in a flirty tone, interrupting your own dirty thoughts.

He cracked a small smile. "What's that?"

"Taco bellllll." You rest your cheek on the shoulder passengers seat, looking at him.

He glances at you, then keeps looking ahead as he drives.

"Well, if you want to update the route I'd be happy to stop anywhere you want."

You laugh.

"I don't know how to do thattt." The car comes up to a red light.

"Here, want help?" Miguel looks over at you as you hand him your phone which has the app still opened, courtesy of Reagan helping you from before. Miguel quickly types, his eyes going from the traffic light to your phone as he tries to enter the new address for the closest Taco Bell.

"Got it," he hands you back your phone, another whiff of his cologne coming off the fabric of his hoodie as he moves his arm back to rest on the center console while he drives with his left hand.

You glance down at your phone and then back at him, still leaning forward with your cheek pressed against the back of the passenger seat.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel was curious about his new passenger, probably the last ride he'll do tonight. He didn't get a good look at you when the bartender was putting you in his car. He glanced over at you again when he thought you weren't looking, but quickly moved his eyes back to the road when he saw you were staring at him already with your cheek pressed against the passenger seat.

"You tired?"

"Kind of," you fake a small yawn while still holding your position.

Miguel laughed. He thought that was kind of amusing, how you were clearly faking being tired and shamelessly staring at him while he drove. He knew he was a good looking guy. Once you got into his car, he felt like he needed to take care of you and make sure you got home safe since your shitty friends wouldn't.

Your eyes wander to the space between his chest and the steering wheel, trying to imagine yourself in it, his strong arms wrapped around you as your hot, frantic, breaths fogged the windows as your bodies pressed together...

"So, y/n , right?" He asks.

Fuuuuck he said my name...

"Yeah..how did you know?! Oh right, the app, the app..."

Miguel smiles.

"So, Miguel, how is it being an Uber driver?" you ask. Feeling brave, you touch his elbow resting on the center console. Miguel's fist clenches tighter around the steering wheel at your touch.

"It's...not bad. It's been pretty busy tonight, actually. I went to the gym earlier then just have been taking a few folks like yourself around town who were going out as well. "

"That's nice. You know, we're gonna be best friends by the end of this drive," you grin, taking another sip of ice water.

"Really?" Miguel smirks. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Your heart flutters at this question. Why is he asking me that?!

"Uhm, no.. I was talking to a guy but I think he ghosted me."

"Heh, I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel replied, not sorry at all.

"Do girls ghost you? Or-uh, I mean- do you, do you have a girlfriend?" you manage to spit out.

Miguel smiles at your stutters.

"Nah, I'm single. I do have a daughter though."

Your smile disappears for a moment. A daughter? "Awhhh, what's her name? How old is she?"

"Her name's Gabriella. She's 6."

"That's sweet...." Miguel's handsomeness mixed with the liquor is enough to cause all rational thinking to exit your brain. I could be a step-mom, easy! I love kids, what the hell?

"So, how old are you?" You ask.

Miguel chuckles. "Isn't it rude to ask a stranger's age?" He glances over at you and the corner of his mouth raises at your slightly mortified expression. "I'm just messing with you- I'm 34."

"Dang, I'm 26," you answer as you look out the window.

"You're still pretty young," Miguel remarks as he turns down a new street.

"I definitely don't feel that way," you answer as you slump in your seat. You decide to check your email. Once you open it, a message that you don't want to see is at the very top. It's a random Yahoo email address you don't recognize which means only one thing: your asshole, estranged dad. You click on it quickly to clear the bold lettering indicating it's unread, and catch a quick glimpse of its contents which is a novel with no spacing. You quickly delete it with a loud sigh.

"Everything okay?" Miguel asks.

"Just my dad. Somehow he made another email address and tried to contact me again. It's a long story though we don't have to get into it..." your voice cracks slightly.

The skin around Miguel's eyes softens when you mention your tense relationship with your father. He himself knew that pain as well. His father, George O'Hara, wasn't a model parent, either.

"I'm sorry you're going through that," Miguel says emphatically. "I don't have the best relationship with my dad, either."

Once you hear this, the last bit of liquid courage in your system inspires you to spill the tea.

"He and my mom are divorced, and, well he's just a narcissist, right? Growing up, I didn't see it, but his whole family is full of them. My grandma never wanted him to marry my mom and so ever since their wedding day, she treated her like shit and when I came along, it was no different. I used to wonder why at Christmases she got bigger presents for the other grandkids and ask why she didn't show up for my birthday parties. My dad never did anything about it and always took their side. I finally realized it when I was about 16 when they divorced, and that's when I said fuck it. If you're not gonna stick up for my mom or me, I don't really want anything to do with you or your family."

Miguel nodded, just listening to you speak, glancing at you in the rearview mirror so you knew he was paying attention.

"Wow, I must say, that sounds horrible. Good on you for sticking up for yourself and your mother. As a parent myself, I can't ever imagine treating my own child or their family that way..."

You sigh.

"Yeah, shit's fucked. But there's nothing I can do about it, you know? I just don't have the strength to talk to him right now. But he never fails to try to reach out about this time every year. Since it's the holidays."

The car arrives at another red light. This time, Miguel turns around to face you while you're stopped, his eyes directly looking into yours.

"Don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you. No matter how hard it is. I know that most people think that family is everything, but, truth is sometimes they can hurt you the most." Miguel then turns back to the wheel.

You feel a flutter in your stomach as though an invisible spark appeared. You were strongly physically attracted to your handsome Uber driver, no doubt about it, but after hearing him speak, you realize there's more behind his captivating features. You feel the very beginning of a connection starting to form and suddenly you wish you had all night to talk to him. Miguel felt the same way, too. In fact, he was going 5 miles under the speed limit and riding the slow lane to try and prolong the encounter. Luckily, you were still too tipsy to notice.

"Well, this should cheer you up..." Miguel pulls the car into the Taco Bell parking lot. You groan internally when you realize you're going to have to go inside. You step out of the car, the cold air assaulting your bare skin again. Miguel notices you shivering.

"Here." Without hesitation, he peels off his hoodie and hands it to you. You want to die as soon as you put it on, and once you see him standing there without it on. He's even more toned than you realize. He's wearing a grey athletic shirt that hugs his broad shoulders just right, his defined chest and ab muscles tapering off into a narrow waist. His hoodie is still warm and smells intoxicating. You feel your hormones going crazy when you bring the collar of the hoodie to your mouth and nose, shamelessly getting drunk on the scent he left behind...

You do a mini sprint to catch up to him as he's already making his way towards the restaurant.

Miguel looks at you from the corner of his eye and his heart skips a beat. He adores the way his oversized clothes drown you. The hoodie is big enough to be a dress on you. He imagines this would be how you two would look together getting a bite to eat, only after making you scream his name 30 minutes before....

You and Miguel enter the Taco Bell and he gives an awkward grin as he holds the door open for you.

"Why don't you sit down or use the restroom if you need, let me order for you," Miguel says.

Your heart melts, but you decide you better seem modest with your order.

"Umm just a gordita crunch, small Baja blast, and a 2 pack of Cinnabon delights please."

Miguel smiles. "You got it." Suddenly, he feels close to you. You trusting him to order food for you and take you home after a rough night out while letting you wear his clothes.

While you go into the bathroom, he approaches the counter.

"Hello, I need two gordita crunches, a large Baja Blast, and a 12 pack of Cinnabon delights, please" He takes out his card and pays for the food without a second thought.

Meanwhile, you come out of the bathroom after cleaning up a bit, still wrapped in his warm hug of a hoodie and wait near the door. Miguel strolls over with your food and grins at you.

"Are you ready to go?" You nod and grin back and you two make your way back to his car. Suddenly, you realize.

"Do you have Venmo? Let me know how much I owe you."

"Absolutely not." Miguel answers firmly. "Here, why don't you sit up front this time?" He opens the passenger door for you. You beam at him.

Is this real? Is this guy really doing all this for me and I just met him? You've never had a man treat you this well. Not even your last relationship could be bothered to hold a door open for you or pull out a chair. You get in and Miguel hands you your bag of food, the delicious aroma making your stomach growl. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion when you realize there's a lot more food in the bag than you told him to order originally. Miguel gets in the car and starts to drive again.

"Did, did you order extra food for me?" You laugh as you turn to him. Miguel gives you a small half smile but says nothing. You take a bite of the gordita crunch and let out a loud, "Mmmmmmm!" Just what you've been craving all night.

"Thank you, thank you so much you have no idea..." Your sentence tapers off as you stuff one of the piping hot Cinnabons into your mouth.

"You're very welcome." Miguel answers as you arrive at another red light. You realize Miguel didn't get himself anything.

"Do you want a Cinnabon bite?" You hold the box and give it a little shake.

Miguel offers a polite smile. "No thanks, those are all for you."

"Whaat, you can't turn down one of these. Have you even had these before?" You say playfully.

He chuckles at your playful tone. "I haven't, actually. But I trust your judgement."

"Come onnn...it's the LEAST I can do after everything you've done for me tonight. You're seriously gonna make me feel SO bad if you don't take at LEAST one." You give the box a couple shakes as if it's going to entice him more.

Miguel sighs. "Alright, you got me. I'll try one."

You smile wide as he takes one of the Cinnabon bites from the box you're holding in an outstretched hand. Your smile almost breaks your face as you see his reaction to his first bite.

"Jesus.." he mutters as his brows furrow in disbelief. He looks down at the remaining bite in his fingers as though he can't comprehend its existence. "That's spectacular, actually."

"Have another one!" You beam.

"Don't mind if I do." Miguel pops another one in his mouth and he brakes again at another red light.

He glances over at you and notices a little bit of taco sauce on the corner of your lip. "You got something..."

Suddenly, your heart stops as he raises his hand to your face, cupping your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, while his middle finger cradles your chin. His lips part in concentration as he gently presses his thumb against the corner of your mouth, retrieving the smudge of taco sauce. Your mouth falls open a little bit too. He gives you a little smile as he brings his thumb to his own mouth, cleaning the sauce from his finger.

That might have been the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. At this point, all you want to do is grab his face and make out with it. Traffic be damned, your runny mascara be damned, your deflated hair be damned, you don't care anymore about any of that. He could ask you to do anything and you'd give it to him without hesitation.

Miguel is thinking the same thing. He did that on purpose. If it wasn't anymore obvious he wanted you right now then he wasn't sure what was. His gaze falls back to your lips. He suddenly realizes you've begun to lean in closer to him. Your noses are inches away from each other. God, he wanted you. To lick passionately into your mouth with his tongue. Being able to hold you and grip your ass as though he was a starved man who couldn't get closer to you even if he tried. Watching your brow furrow with pleasure, hearing your voice and watching your breath fog his windows and the heat rising in his body knowing he was the cause...

Reality busts in like the Kool-Aid man.

She was drinking tonight. You just met her. She's your passenger. Technically, you're still working right now...No, it's not right...

Miguel pulls away suddenly, and, as if the universe has his back, the traffic light turns green and he presses the gas, driving once more. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to pound again.

Doesn't he like me? What happened....? What did I do....? Did I misread the signs? I wanna hide in my room for the rest of my fucking life now.

You clear your throat and take a long sip of Baja Blast. The uncomfortable silence and tension becomes a thick fog. You recognize your apartment building coming into view and your heart sinks.

"Home sweet home..." Miguel pulls into the parking lot. "Is here a good place to drop you off?"

"Yeah..." You try to make your tone sound like it's back to business. Miguel nods and grips the steering wheel with both fists in the 12 o' clock position as he watches you gather your things.

Ask for her number, you fucking pussy... Truth is, when it came to matters of the heart, Miguel's heart was glass.

"Thank you for the ride and the food, and, and just everything..." you step out of his car, defeated. You really didn't want to be the one to make the first move. If he really wanted to he would...

Miguel looks back at you with a neutral expression.

"Of course. You have a safe night, now." He starts to pull away.

"Miguel!" You realize you're still wearing his hoodie and you go to take it off.

He looks at you through the rolled down window, still driving away and shoots you a gorgeous smile and shakes his head at you in refusal, giving you one last wink that nearly knocks you over.

You sigh with frustration and watch his car disappear into the night, trying to memorize his license plate but your brain is hazy and the numbers on it escape your mind as soon as they enter. Your heart leaps in your chest when you realize you might be able to contact him through the Uber app...

No no, you let him talk to you first. Did your last situationship teach you nothing, you dumb hoe?! Don't be that desperate girl...

You wrap the droopy arms of his hoodie around yourself as you walk up the stairs and take a deep sniff...burying yourself in his scent so you never ever forget it. Even if he didn't want to spend the night holding you, you could go to bed with a huge smile on your face knowing you walked away with a piece of his clothing, the essence of what he left behind wrapped around your body all night long. An intangible connection that bound you two together...

Miguel sighed as he drove away. He just didn't have the bravery tonight. He didn't want to come across as creepy. The reality is, you were a slightly intoxicated stranger, a vulnerable woman younger than him, and he didn't want to abuse his power over you in that way. He looked at the empty passenger seat next to him and laid one of his hands on it, feeling the warmth you left behind. Trying to remember the way your thighs pillowed on it...the way your soft lips opened in shock when he wiped the sauce from your mouth, the small line of saliva from you that he caught on his thumb and licked into his own mouth..

He inhaled deeply, his jaw tensing and speed on the road increasing as he felt his body getting hot... He tried to lock your perfume in his nose for as long as he could, imagining himself inhaling it directly from your soft neck... holding onto the remainder of your presence, just...just until he could get home and relieve himself of his dire wants...

You, the perfect stranger who found herself in the passenger seat of his car tonight, and unknowingly wound up in the back of his mind for good...

-----

Hope you liked it! Thank you SO much for reading. ❤️ Part 2 is coming soon!

Pt 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #tension #fem reader #Spotify

466 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 2 months

Text

Shameless: 1/3

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,285

(Image Source)

Synopsis: You have a type, one that has been forcefully revealed by your crewmen's incessant nagging. After being ordered to return to your workshop to receive further instruction, you become fully aware of why you have been hidden away from meeting with the captain of the Victoria Punk. He was exactly your type.

Notes: This is my first time writing for Eustass Kid. It was meant to be a one-shot, but it quickly got out of hand very fast. Looks like a two or three parter. afab!reader - but can be read as gn.

Themes: senseless flirting, mature themes, NSFW language, choking, vulgarity, promiscuity, shamelessness, heart-pirate!reader x captain!Eustass Kid, this reader is a perpetual and shameless flirt, heart pirates x reader, partial zoro x reader, platonic law x reader.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @since-im-already-here

Song Suggestion: It's Cuffing Season - Dj Rehan, JW Velly

Within the rotund chasm of the crew dining quarters rung a loud and rambunctious melody. The sway of your hips and the lyrics falling from your smiling lips alongside Shachi and Penguin had the mood of the hour joyful and merry. The speakers ignited with the crackle of the powerful ballad screaming over the powered mounted system bordering the ceiling. You swayed your body with Ikkaku’s, your lips relaying the lyrics to the rambunctious melody with a suggestive smile, a smile mirrored by her own elevating to her lips.

These were the cool-down hours: where the Heart-Pirate crew were able to complete tasks they had set aside, or wind down after a hard day's work of following Captain Law’s orders aboard the Polar Tang. Despite his tired and lackluster expression constantly painted across his exhausted face, your captain, Trafalgar D Water-Law, encouraged his entire crew to engage in some lesser restraint as they quiet down before the changeover in shift.

Law was yet to join in on the celebrations, opting to remain behind in his office for reasons you were yet to become privy to. Although he never allowed himself to truly let go and sway his hips, cry tactless lyrics into the air; he truly enjoyed witnessing the crew join together like this. There were only a few songs he would ever mutter the lyrics along to, most of which were harder in musicality, angst-driven in their choruses, and distorted in tonality. Yet, he would always have a soft smile elevated on his lips when the few of you would gyrate, sway, sing and scream alongside the music over the speakers.

As Shachi drew a stainless steel whisk up to his lips and began to shout the lyrics into the crossed tip, the music cut out from its place within the electrical power system. In its stead, Captain Trafalgar Law’s voice dictated a few short and curt orders.

“All hands above deck. Repeat, all hands to the deck. Prepare the Polar Tang to be boarded for a Nakama encounter,” you snapped to the direction of the speaker, Ikkaku’s dancing movements halting beside yours as you listened for further instruction over the system. As no further orders fell from the mechanical mesh, you readjusted your fallen zipper of your white, boiler jumpsuit and spring into action.

“Ohh, a crew boarding? I hope it’s the Straw-Hats! I want to see that little reindeer again,” Bepo noted politely, the thump of his heavy feet stomping along the iron floor beside your smaller steps almost comical.

“Oh, the crew with the green-haired swordsman coming aboard again?” You asked him, brow quirking and smirk rising at the corner of your lips. Ikkaku laughed at your comment, clapping you on the shoulder and walking with Shachi and Penguin in tow behind you.

“The one that was almost your type?” Ikkaku’s smile quirked up at Shachi’s question, his arm hooking over your neck as he spoke down into your ear.

“But not quite, remember?” You giggled at him, playfully extending the sharp secondary knuckle of your index finger into his ribcage, his breath huffing out a hasty exhale at the jolt. Ikkaku and Penguin laughed at Shachi’s wince of pain, his laughter also rising with his crewmates’ and your own.

Amongst the Heart-Pirates, the crew were not unaccustomed to your unrestrained flirting with them. From your close proximity, to the brush of your fingertips, to a warm embrace offered from your arms, to you lounging against them in the quiet hours. But most of all, your vulgar and unwithheld language going far enough to make the most hardened members of the Heart-Pirates’ cheeks tint crimson.

It was a game to you, keeping things lively and interesting aboard your ship as you served alongside them as Law’s chief tinkerer. Nothing ever came of the suggestive conversations and provocative language you offered aside from a friendly kiss, alongside the words, “Sorry, love. You’re not my type.”

As your feet met with the grated bars of the steel steps leading to the deck, Law’s voice cut over the speakers once more to address the crew.

“All hands to the deck, aside from my tinkerer. Go to your workshop and await further instruction,” the distorted crack of his voice did very little to mask the disdain in his voice. There was something bothering your captain - such a bother depicted in his bored and aloof tone. The harbor which anchored such a dirge-like expression which you had very little explanation for. That was, until, the snickering beside you hissed through the smiling teeth of the three human crew members beside you.

“What’s so funny?” you spat, shimmying from the crook of Shachi’s arm and facing the four of them with your hands on your hips.

“Oh, nothing,” Ikkaku giggled before sucking her lips into her mouth to stifle more of her laughter from freely falling from between them. You glanced between the other three, all raising their hands in defense to your pointed gaze.

“Alright, keep your damn secrets to yourselves,” you scoffed, turning your nose up in the air at them before snuggling into Bepo, who eagerly returned your brief embrace, “I’ll see you after the Nakama meet up, I suppose.” They bid their farewells to you, snickering and giggling as they exited the iron hatch of the Polar Tang to rise above decks.

After sculking the halls down the long and lonely corridors to your office, you were shocked at the sight greeting you upon opening the large door. Although he depicted further instruction was awaiting you, you were anticipating private instruction to be carried through your personal Den-Den-Mushi rather than meeting with your Captain himself.

Captain Law was sitting at your desk, his ankles hooked on top of your workbench with his hands laced behind his head, cradling his neck. He lazily glanced through the corner of his eyes at you before slowly unlacing his ankles and rising to his feet. His fingertips clasped his impressive sword, the smoothness of his scabbard reflected in the dim light of your office.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Cap? Shouldn’t you be-?” you began, your words halted immediately by Law’s response.

“-Cut the shit, Tink,” your titled nickname falling in lieu of your real name or formal title from Law’s lips. You relaxed your shoulder against the doorframe, folding your arms across your chest while pursing your lips. You tapped your index finger on your bicep while you awaited further direction from the man in front of you.

With an exasperated sigh, he elevated his slender, tattooed, fingers to his brow and pinched the center between his index and thumb. He huffed a final growl before he bore his honeyed eyes into your awaiting features.

“It seems I will be unable to keep you distracted for the entire time they’ll be here this time,” he muttered to himself in a voice almost impossible for you to catch. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to question him further. He halted your words by removing his fingers from his brow to face his palm out to you.

“I am going to say this one time, and one time only,” he continued to hold his intense and stern gaze into your eyes, “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what, Law? What are you talking about-?” you began, halted again by Law’s dictation once again.

“-Just...” Law turned his face slightly away from you, “...-Just don’t, okay? I know you, I know what you’re like, and I’m just letting you know now, and know once. Don’t.”

You were unable to form an adequate response before he stormed out of your workshop and wordlessly gestured for you to follow behind him above deck with his index finger, a hooked motion calling to you. Your captain’s words swirled in your head, your eyes locking on to his neck and tracing his skin with your inquisitive gaze.

Your relationship with your captain was as close a friendship as you could ever muster with such a person. He sought out your skills as a tinkerer, your reputation preceding you when you demonstrated your skilled hands to him. You both bonded over unique collections, his coins and comics, your rocks and pinned insect and arachnid display. Both having a unique place to relay information about your special and unique interests with one another was sacred, and so incredibly special to the both of you.

Where Law and you differed was in how you chose to display your humors: Law holding his hand close to his chest before he truly displays how unhinged his humor was with dark commentary, whereas you were a perpetual flirt with provocative language and sultry advances. You both held each other in a professional standing, before your words took a turn for requited flirtation. Law would reciprocate your vulgarity, and you would mirror back that darkness he expressed, if ever your conversations became flirtatious and humorous with him.

And that is where, like the others, you ended the flirtatious rapport with a simple utterance of: “Forgive me, Cap. You’re not my type,” which threw the captain and crew into an uproar of outrageous laughter. Speculating on what exactly your type was, you finally gave into their incessant interrogation after being offered your fifth drink for the evening from the hands of Shachi.

“Fine,” you spat, your arm swaying as you handled your filled pint, “I like them big. And I truly mean big. Like, throw me over the shoulder big. Like, ‘will it fit’ big. Especially if they’ve got that feral twinkle in their eyes that looks at you like they’d want to kill you,” you confessed, your voice swooning at the thought. After taking a heaping gulp from your drink, you added, “You’re all very beautiful, handsome, and spectacular. But, I just need someone who looks like they could lovingly and desperately break me in half. Bonus points if they’re good with machines, so we can bond.”

After coming down from your whimsical confession, you glanced at the crew. Bepo’s ears were covered by both Shachi and Penguin’s hands - all three of their jaws comically slackened. Law’s teeth were clenched in an awkward, cringe-like, straightened smile with lazy, half-hooded eyes. Ikkaku’s cheeks were tinted red with the elevated hue of rushed blood, her lips broken into a wide grin with her eyes twinkling at the confession.

All of these things were true. You were a person of refined taste, a taste which seemed scarce to come by with the crew you had found yourself working beside. There was Jean Bart, but he was not overly interested in tending to a relationship with you. There was Uni, but your interests fell short when he only depicted gentleness and kindness towards you in lieu of your craving for something more brutal.

Both men remained high spirited and friendly with you despite your attempt at a fling with them falling through. You needed something more. Something more unhinged. Something a little unpredictable, feral and dangerous.

As Law led you above deck, the voice of Jean Bart called for all crew to fall in line to welcome the Nakama crew above deck. Without looking up, you hastily drew yourself between Penguin and Ikkaku, Shachi on the other side of Penguin and Bepo beside Ikkaku as you all stood alert with your arms by your sides.

“At ease, Heart-Pirates,” Law commanded, shooting you one more pointed and narrow-eyed look before turning back to speak with the foreign captains and their crews. It seemed two crews had joined the deck of the Polar Tang: The Straw-Hat Pirates alongside another crew you did not recognise. You quickly examined the First-Mate of the Straw-Hat crew, who met your eyes with a small smirk before returning back to fix his gaze on his captain alongside his crew.

Zoro was almost your type. A night you shared with one another, being evidence enough to your crew, that you had nearly found someone you deemed feral and hulking enough to share in your company. When your lips met his: his actions were closer to timid and gentle as they joined with yours. The fires of passion were there, the small amount of danger also present, but he was still not your type. He was handsome, sure enough. He was aggressive, absolutely. He reciprocated your flirtations with a small elevation of flush tinting his cheeks a warm hue of pink, which you found endearing.

The night concluded with a few deepened kisses, roaming touches from your hands holding each other firmly beneath the stars aboard the Sunny. However, nothing further ever came between the two of you. After that night, the you both remained quite good friends and shared in each other's company, with unhinged and illicit conversation, each time Law met with his captain. He kept pace with you when you drank, spurting dark vulgarity subtly into your ear at the dining table when your crews met; but it was all in good humor and never truly to initiate anything rising further between you.

A small pull at the corner of your sleeve from Ikkaku broke you away from your reminiscing, your face turning to look at her with your brows knitting in confusion. Her lips were sucked into her mouth, her eyes wide in excitement as she bore her gaze directly ahead.

“What’s wrong with you?” your hushed whisper growled at her. She removed her grip on your sleeve and raised her hand to your chin, turning your head without pulling her eyes away from their fixed point in front of her.

“This is who the Captain was keeping from you. Ever wonder why he’d been working you so hard when we meet up with certain crews? He’s why,” she muttered, her lips still sucked within her lips to stifle her rising joy. You allowed her to turn your jaw ahead, your eyes meeting with a hulking figure of a man with fiery red hair.

Your jaw fell slack before your lips pulled up into a broad smile as your eyes fixed themselves on him. He was intimidating, he was hulking, and he was big. Your eyes shamelessly raked themselves over his body, halting on his calves, his thighs, his ass, his arm, his metal arm, his broad chest, his grimace, his makeup, his blaster goggles hoisting his untamed locks away from his face-.

-You hastily drew your eyes back to his left arm, metal in make and incredibly large. It looked heavy, intricate, and mechanical. Your interest deepened at each sway of his arms, flex of his muscles and wind of cogs and bolts within his intricate piece attached to his severed limb. Starstruck, captivated, and interest immediately peaked; you continued to rake your eyes over this foreign man aboard the Polar Tang.

“O-Oh? Oh m-my-...” you couldn’t find the words to form a cohesive string of sentences, your eyes fixed on his arm as you studied it. His mechanical fingertips were clenching, his grimace splitting his scarred face, and his hair bobbing beneath blaster goggles each time he opened his mouth to speak.

“I know, right? Law has been trying so desperately to keep you from meeting him,” Ikkaku added, prompting you to hum deeply in interest with your tongue darting out to dampen your bottom lip.

“That’s your type, then?” Penguin and Shachi uttered in unison, their downturned smiles through gritted teeth cringing through the question.

“That’s-,” you took a moment to collect your thoughts, swallowing a lump of dry saliva within your mouth, ”-Exactly, my type,” you gasped, nodding as you spoke aloud.

“And this is why each time we see the Victoria Punk, we have to keep you below deck and distracted,” Ikkaku managed to stutter out through her giggles. You quickly snapped your eyes back to her, your gaze narrowed and accusatory.

“We’ve had him,” you snapped your eyes away from the hulking gentleman to stare at Ikkaku, “On the Polar Tang more than once?” You snapped your eyes from Ikkaku to turn to Penguin on your other side, “And you managed to keep me distracted?” you uttered through gritted teeth. Ikkaku shrugged her shoulders, puffing out her cheeks to halt an uproar of laughter from falling from her lips.

“Captain’s orders,” Shachi confirmed with a curt nod, stooping out from falling in line to meet his spectacle-covered eyes with yours, “He knows what you’re like, and how you’d react.” He stepped back in line and grunted out a soft cough to clear his throat.

You turned your eyes back to the redhead, quickly looking over his hulking crew before hardening your resolve and humming deeply.

“I am-...” you began, raking your eyes back over his body again, “...-I am going to climb him like a tree.”

Snickers began to fall through the nose of Ikkaku, a small giggle elevating in Penguin’s chest, a huff of air snorting through Shachi’s nose.

“I gotta know what that hand does,” you confessed, your eyes full of wonderment and your tone full of longing desire, “What it feels like. Is it smooth? Does it have different settings? Is it cold? Can he control the pressure? I have to know, for science. I want him-...” you trailed off before dreamily adding: “...-To choke me.”

More laughter and teeters from your friends around you threatened to break through the seal of their clenched lips, Penguin raising his palm to halt his laughter.

“Look at his eyes. He’s got so much pent up hate in that twinkle,” you continued, a whimsical sigh exiting your lips, “I hope he’s the type that scowls into your face while he fucks you hard. Or maybe he’s the type to bend you over a desk while he frantically rams himself into you.”

Ikkaku’s higher pitched whimpered laughter almost broke through her lips, elevating both her hands to clench over the bottom half of her face to stifle her laughter. Penguin was not faring much better, his teeters boiling close to breaking point. Shachi pulled his hat over his eyes in an effort to hide his blush.

“I wonder if all of him is as big, hard and angry as the rest of him,” you hummed, deep in thought. A choked snort threatened to break through Shachi’s nose, Ikkaku held her breath while Penguin cringed behind his palm.

Zoro immediately drew his eye away from his captain and examined the five of you all huddled together in a line. He focussed on your lips moving, reading the unhinged commentary you were entertaining your crewmen with: noticing your gaze was fixed on Eustass Kid. His smirk immediately broke up his lips, his eyes closing as he huffed out a subtle laugh he disguised with a cough.

“And the scars. Are they sensitive? I wonder if he’d writhe when I lick them,” you spoke with wonderment, “How far do they go down? Is it just his face, neck, arm, and chest - or do they go all the way down his body? I would happily lick, kiss and suck my way down while mapping his flesh beneath my lips. Oooh, I wonder if he’s ticklish.”

Zoro’s gaze was now fully fixed on your lips, relaying every word of your hushed conversation lowly to Nami standing beside him. She began holding in her own laughter, choking back stifled whimpers while hearing the repetition of your vulgarity from the first-mate beside her. Nami was also a crewmate you enjoyed spending time with when the Nakama meetings drew the Straw-Hats and Heart-Pirate crews together, appreciating how effortlessly you relayed your desires and flirtations to your crewmen.

“And his face paint. Does it smear when it's coated in sweat and saliva? His face looks like a comfortable place to sit,” you raked your eyes over his face, focussing on his grimacing lips, “He looks like he’d be an aggressive kisser. I wonder if he bites when he eats pu-.”

That was the comment that broke the seal, the three companions by your side finally breaking into an uproar of laughter. The three crews and their captains snapped their attention over to you. You held a look of absolute innocence, your eyes finally meeting with the intimidating presence of the feral, redheaded captain.

His intense rage directed at you had you swooning, your knees buckling and your breath sighing at him. Heat flushed your cheeks the longer your eyes were locked with his. The flutter of your heartbeat and deep sigh departing from your lips perplexed him, depicted by the rage-riddled confusion knitting his brows together deeper.

Without warning with a few quick strides, your captain strutted over to your position among your crewmates.

“Tinkerer,” he spat, your body doing little to hide your longing as you desperately attempted to look behind Trafalgar Law to return your gaze to the Nakama behind you, “I said don’t.”

“Sorry, sir,” you apologized sincerely, snapping your eyes up to his intense gaze,and assuming a more formal position. Your hands were clasped behind your back, your chin elevated in the air and your expression hardened and practiced.

“I just-...” he growled, his eyes clamping shut tightly before reopening, “...It was a suggestion, Tink. Not an order.” He straightened his posture, swirling his neck to relieve it of tension, “At ease, but keep it quiet. Alright?”

“In that case, Cap,” you smiled, relaxing in your stature and beaming a brilliant smile up at him with a shrug, “I am going to test out how loud I can make him roar my name while he fills me full of his hot, sticky cu-.”

“-TINK!” Law scolded you with an exasperated growl, the remainder of the Heart-Pirates bursting into a large, unbridled gaggle of laughter.

Far enough away to not hear the conversation Law was holding with you, Zoro’s smirk cut his face wider at Law’s roar. A low, rumbled chuckle shook Zoro’s shoulders, alerting Luffy and Eustass Kid of his amusement.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Kid’s voice cracked through the air, causing Zoro’s chuckle to halt but his amusement remained.

“Go ask Cap’n Law’s crew,” Zoro suggested nonchalantly with a shrug. Luffy quirked his head to the side, his wide eyes holding mild curiosity. Nami clapped her hands over her lips and shook her head, while Robin’s knowing smile drew itself up to decorate her face with her humor.

“Why would I do that?” Kid growled, turning his intense auburn eyes back to the scene befaling Law and his crew. Law turned back to the two captains, a rise of a pink hue dusting his cheeks as he fixed his hat atop his head.

Behind the tattooed captain, you stood with your brow raised and following your captain’s retreat. He examined you briefly, noting you were holding a hushed conversation with your crewmates behind your captain’s back that had a blush rise to their cheeks, lips curling up into broad smiles, and shoulders quaking in laughter. You were confident, that much was sure.

As Kid met his eyes with yours, he saw your cocky smirk and half-lidded eyes glancing at him with a beckoning taunt. He watched as you shamelessly raked your eyes over his body, pausing on a few key areas and your lips moving with a smile as you spoke.

Kid immediately rose to your challenge, striding immediately over with haste and brushing his shoulder heavily past Law’s - who was too late to halt the meeting of an impossible force colliding with an immovable object. Law held out his arm in warning, an action falling short as the hulking figure covered your body in the shroud of his shadow. His presence sucked the very breath from your body, his intense, piercing gaze burned you as you gazed into them. Lips curling back into a snarl, he scrunched his nose alongside his brows.

“The fuck are you all laughing at?” He roared, his hard gaze stealing the air from within your lungs. He was even more spectacular at his closer proximity, holding you briefly starstruck under his dangerous aura.

“Aww, nothing to say? Something clamping down on your tongue to keep it from moving?” he grimaced his lips up into a cruel snarl. At his taunt, your brief awestruck expression was replaced with a channel for your vulgarity.

“Why, are you offering?” You bite back, your eyes dark with their challenge, “I bet you have an array of things you could use to keep my tongue occupied.” His eyes widened, his grimace falling a little at your words.

“Come again?” He asked, hunching over to draw his face close to yours. He bore his teeth at you, his shock written all over his face.

“I hope so, Sir,” you smile dreamily up at him, “As many times as you can handle it.”

Your crewmen beside you sucked in whimpered breaths, hoping and praying the larger man at least found humor in your comments if not anything else. You continued to hold your half-lidded eyes, glazed over with unwithheld lust and need meeting with his wide eyes, pupils shrunk small and expression angry.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he spat, his brows creasing in the middle of his forehead as his scowl returned, “I should gag, choke and flog you for that.”

“And I would say ‘thank you’, Sir,” you hummed in affirmation, stepping your body closer to his towering form. Reactionary, he stepped further towards you, completely ignoring your crewmates beside you witnessing your interaction. You could feel the waves of tension elevating and igniting fury beneath his hulking form.

“If this is your way of pissing me off,” he snarled, the rumble of his voice echoing within his chest shot a delightful shiver to your spine, “Believe me, it’s fuckin’ working, Sunshine.”

Your heart swelled at his bestowment of such a sweet title onto you, your comrades in arms staring at you in horror as you swooned. Shachi and Penguin were rapidly shaking their heads from side to side in an attempt to warn you to cease your shameless advance of the foreign captain. Ikkaku stifled a smaller gasped whimper, while Bepo covered his ears.

“So violent,” your voice shuddered in delight with an airy breathiness, “Don’t threaten me with a good time unless you intend on seeing it through, Sir.”

Eustass Kid was stunned.

He had not received such provocative and forthcoming flirtation in this way before, and he truly had no idea if your crude words were just a depiction of your humor to entertain yourself, or if you truly meant what you were saying. If your expressions were just an act to draw a laugh from your crewmen, he no longer wanted to take part in engaging with you in this way. However, if you were truly interested in him - your shameless and tasteless salaciousness was indeed igniting something within the tinkerer-captain.

“You don’t even know who I am, Sunshine,” he informed you, drawing up his mechanical left hand and threatening to cage your neck within its cool, steely grip.

“Then educate me on the name I’ll be blissfully crying praises for, Sir,” you groaned, leaning your neck against the index finger of the mechanical contraption.

“You got a lot of nerve to be talking shit about me in front everyone,” he pressed the heel of his metallic palm further into your flesh and curled the digits around your throat, “I’m not a fan of being the butt of some fucked up joke.”

“They’re not laughing at you, Sir. It’s ridicule at my expense,” you confessed, groaning at the feeling of cool metal pressing dangerously hard against your jugular, “They’re laughing at how much I want you, which I do. I really do, if you’re up to the task.”

Kid’s breath was now taking its turn in being stolen from his lungs, your confession weighing as heavy on his heart as his mechanical arm was on his shoulder. He took a moment to process the words falling freely from your lips before he calculated an appropriate response.

“The fuck did you just say-...?” Kid asked you quietly, his arm faltering its grip around your neck while his balled fist clenched tighter to stifle his rising anger.

“You heard me,” you taunted him further, not tearing your eyes from his for even a moment. Your smile never faltered, your eyes displaying their unbridled lust and craving for him within your blackened pupils, “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that needs to be told twice.”

“And what kind of guy do I look like to you?” he spat at you, wringing your neck between his steel fingers.

“A big one,” you gasped a whimpering moan, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt every movement offered by the mechanical contraption. You would adore taking the time to study such a beautiful object in your workshop, but for now; your curiosity was satisfied by the feeling of the hulking larger man caging you beneath its cool grasp.

“You want me to show you how big I really am, Sunshine?” his face split into a broad grin, his brow creasing in the center to deepen his sinister expression, “At least you already know how to call me ‘Sir’.”

Before you could utter another word, Law pulled the captain’s attention away from you with a grasp of his hand on his right forearm. Before he could squeeze his metal fingers around your neck further, he drew them away from your flesh as Captain Law interrupted your building tension.

“Captain Kid,” his stern voice cut through the air, the redhead’s eyes snapped over to meet with the yellow irises of your captain, “I apologize for my tinkerer’s obscenity. They know better,” he shot you a pointed look, one you returned with a stubborn huff of breath. “Tink, I warned you. You’re dismissed. Workshop, now.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” you spat, your heels clicking together as you saluted him with your index and middle finger. You marched yourself below decks, mentally scolding yourself on your shamelessness in front of someone who was finally your type.

As the door closed behind you, Law released a breath he didn’t know he was withholding. As he opened his mouth to speak, Kid spoke over him.

“Did you say tinkerer, Traffy?” his eyes were still fixed on the door you just exited through, his voice almost soft in curiosity.

“That I did,” Law confessed with a huffed breath, “Let’s get back to our meeting so we can get this bullshit over with, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Kid exhaled, turning back to meet his gaze with Luffy and his own crew. He spared one more glance over his shoulder towards the lower deck door of the Polar Tang. Curiosity had you plaguing his thoughts, swirling within every crevice of his mind as he attempted to engage in the fruitless Nakama meeting with the Heart, Kid and Straw-Hat pirate captains.

Pausing just before joining up with Luffy, Kid turned once more to Law and grunted out a small cough. Law lazily turned his face over to him, angling his chin upwards to stare at the larger man. Kid’s cheeks dusted with a small tint of pink, elevating his right hand and pressing it against his lips while grunting through his next choice words.

“They single?”

Law groaned, throwing his head back as he and Kid rejoined themselves next to Luffy to discuss the next aspect of their meeting: no words finding anchor within the Straw-Hat captain’s mind, as he was too busy contemplating when the next meal was to be presented. Will Sanji cook it? Will Kid’s crew, or Law’s provide it? Will it include meat? He hoped it would.

Part 2

#one piece #x reader #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #kid pirates #heart pirates #trafalgar law #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #shachi and penguin #op eustass kid #supernova trio #my writing #eustass kid is a secret softie #eustass kid is also a flirt

283 notes · View notes

professorcalculusstanaccount · 1 year

Photo

he’s the adult supervision, he’s the voice of reason, he’s a cringefail king, it’s Captain Haddock! Quite a few people asked for a timeline post for Haddock after I posted one of Tintin.

I found the whole idea of the Haddock family curse to be very interesting, and the implications behind it to be pretty dark... cw for alcoholism and childhood abuse. Let me know if you need anything tagged.

To figure out the timeline the evidence for Haddock’s age I found was in an animated adaptation of Explorers on the Moon where Haddock mentions he has around forty years of sailing experience. I doubt he was running around on ships as a newborn so that places his age during the canon comics at around 60ish, give or take a few years, which in my timeline places his childhood during the late Victorian era!

Left to right, top to bottom:

Child - Archibald Haddock had a pretty rough childhood and family life. The legacy of the “Haddock family curse” weighs heavily on him, and so does the alcoholism that runs generationally. His father is often drunk, taking his anger and frustration out on Archibald. Fully believing the family curse, Archibald’s father drills the idea that he is destined for failure into his head.

Archibald’s only respite is his grandfather, who tells him stories of Sir Francis Haddock and other tall tales from the sea. His grandfather also would take him out on fishing trips, the lochs and the sea being his refuge.

Teenager - It’s the 1880s and Archibald is left aimless after his grandfather passes away, passing the time by hiding from his father and drinking during the day. He fully believes he has no real future and lets himself get swept up by whatever will come along next.

Young Adult - Archibald decides to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and becomes a sailor, feeling at home at sea. He cleans up somewhat after befriending George Chester as the two train on the same merchant vessel. Chester drags a reluctant Archibald along into all kinds of crazy antics, with Archibald wanting to stay on the straight and narrow.

Archibald is drafted during the First World War, serving in the Grand Fleet. He is stationed at the Orkney and Shetland Islands with Chester.

Canon - After the war Archibald relapses on his addiction again, but is able to hold onto work in the merchant fleet. He eventually becomes a captain of a merchant vessel where his mental health issues are taken advantage of in the Crab with the Golden Claws.

Seeing his crew mutiny, kidnap (and attempt to murder) a boy on his ship was a major wake up call - Haddock is now imbued with a sense of responsibility for Tintin (even if Tintin seems to handle things better than Haddock!). He doesn’t understand what Tintin sees in him but he’ll be damned if he proves him wrong. He’s not above calling him an idiot when the time is right though.

Post Canon - After Tintin loses his job Haddock does his best to support him. He uses his wealth to further causes he believes in, donating money to artist collectives and scientific research that was repressed by fascist governments. Before Belgium even joins the Second World War he and the Marlinspike team proactively go out and foil various Nazi plots. Marlinspike Hall is firebombed by the Nazis in retaliation, but after the war Haddock funds various housing cooperative projects. Coming from a working class background he hasn’t forgotten the hardships a lot of people face.

Elderly - At this point Haddock is secure in his found family. He’s been living with his partner Ramo Nash, and has taken up various arts and crafts as hobbies. Looking back, he never expected to be a father, but is incredibly proud of Tintin. He never officially adopts him as a part of him still fears the family curse (plus they both agree “Haddock” as a name definitely does not suit Tintin)!

#fanart #tintin #adventures of tintin #captain haddock #archibald haddock #photoset #headcanon #historical fashion #alcohol #alcohol tw #abuse mention #nazism cw #death mention

1K notes · View notes

punkeropercyjackson · 1 month

Text

It's finally here!!!

Graphic design is my passion LMFAO but as i said i would do a while back,i've created a masterpost of all the Jason Todd content that's worth your time!This is rather long but he's existed since 1983 so!!

Base edit is my little sister @mayameanderings and tagging @coffeemilkcatz and @nanaonmars since they said yes when i asked if they wanted me to!Let's dive in then!

Batman 408-426,Detective comics 568-582,Superman annual 11,New Teen Titans 18-31,Blue Devil 19,Action comics 556 and 594,Batman Annuals 10-12 and Batman(The cult)for pre-reboot Robin!Jason my beloved

Nightwing Year One 101-106,New Teen Titans 55,Nightwing 10(1997)and Legends of the Dark Knight 100 for Dick and Jason siblinghood,Gotham Knights 34 for the short story of him and Alfred and Detective comics 790 for Bruce telling Cass about him as it takes place on Jason's birthday

Lost Days aka the Red Hood prologue

Under The Red Hood(2010)-The original comic is good in it's own right but the movie is leagues better written(Rare comic book adaption exception lmao)

Robin 177 and 182-183 for tha actual Tim and Jason beef instead of 'replacement' and 'enemy to caretaker' bs

Azreal:Death's Dark Knight 3(Can't give commentary on this one since i don't know Azreal like that,sorry)

Red Hood and The Outlaws(2016).Unlike the Utrh comic vs the Utrh movie,the original Rhato has nothing positive like the reboot

Not TECHNICALLY Jason BUT Duke is his favorite brother and Stephanie's the only Batfam girl he's truly close to so you should also stan them since he'd want you to /lh

Red Hood:Outlaw for the confirmation that Red Hood loves black women from infinity to infinityyyyy(meaning his love interest Dana Harlowe is introduced and featured as an mc in this run)

Urban Legends 1-6 for his return to the Batfam-Messy tbh but i do enjoy parts of it!

Task Force Z for him and Stephanie being a vigilante team and it has a prelude,that being Detective comics 1041-1043

Unkillables and Joker:The Man Who Stopped Laughing for Jayrose goodies and more of the above

Gotham War if you feel like turning off your brain to look at good art and laugh at dogshit writing

Red Hood:The Hill is his current run and when our queen Dana comes home from comics limbo!!!

The following is a misc list that's not required to include in your Jason knowledge but HIGHLY recommended you do just for fun!

Tiny Titans 23,29,33,39,45 and 47,Bombshells 46,60 and 62,Bombshells United 18-24,Lego Batman:Family Matters,A Death In The Family 2020,Batman:The Adventures Continue,Batman/Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 5-6,The Doom That Came to Gotham 2023 and The Teen Titans Go episode 'The Best Robin'(Pre-Reboot Robin Jason rights!!!).Also look up 'Nobody cares about Tim Drake' if you don't know what that is,you'll love it

Jason also appears in the Lego DC Super Villains games that i highly recommend as well especially because my girlfriend is a mega fan of it and i don't know much about Lego Batman 3:Beyond Gotham but please avoid the aformentioned original Rhato,Red Hood:Outlaws and the Gotham Knights game as they feature extremely problematic writing not limited to but including racialized misogyny and ableism and do disservice to Jason himself anyway so you wouldn't want to consume them to begin with if you want to like him.I have mixed feelings on the Arkham Knight and Injustice games series' but they are objectively fairly good so i wouldn't say no to giving them a shot to see if you like them

And for the finale we have Wayne Family Adventures-Definitely a good read but to be totally honest it does Duke DIRTY and it sucks so much of DC to have marketed as his series to not only not follow through at all and make it an ensemble cast instead but ALSO deprive him of his actual characterization and story to make him a demure weak black boy stereotype.I won't judge you at all for liking it if you decided to read it or have already but kindly keep this in mind and consider joining me and my mutuals in our rewrite of it to give our Signal of Hope and Chaos the writing he deserves or at least support us through likes and reblogs!Happy Jason readings and have a good day💕

162 notes · View notes

starions · 11 months

Text

i didn't find my love, but i still made it this far without it.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x gn!spider!reader

words ; 1432

summary ; in every dimension you are loved dearly by all, and in every dimension, miguel gets you killed.

tags ; angst, mentions of death (reader dies... a lot), miguel is a stalker (with good intentions), allusions to comic!miguel, mentions of cheating, y/n isn't used, gender neutral pronouns

han's note ; i wrote this with my self-insert spidersona spiderette in mind lol but i tried to make reader as vague as possible <3 also i haven't written in a while and it shows. title is an ethel cain lyric. stream preacher's daughter.

;

The first time he had seen you, you were wearing a lab coat and helping him with his genetic tests at the Alchemax headquarters; the second time, your face was broadcasted on an “in memoriam” video on New York’s biggest news channel; and the third was you in your Spider suit, swinging around NYC. He never thought he’d see that face again.

The glow of orange screens burned into his vision, the beginnings of a migraine brewing behind his eyes. Miguel’s eyes narrowed at the screen, watching as you take down a villain in your dimension. You moved with grace, tying the villain up in your webs with ease, before turning them into the police. He mentally noted some skills that you could work on, like becoming more aware of the blindspot you had on your left side or cutting back on the quick quips that riled up the villain even more. Nevertheless, he hummed in approval, clicking off the video. He was in view of another window this time; you as you exited your apartment’s back window in your Spider suit. He gritted his teeth; you treated your job as Earth-799’s Spider-Person with such carelessness, such negligence. Yes, you had a good skill set that could become great with more work, more practice, but the indifference you had about concealing your identity irked him. Your mask only covered half your face, for God’s sake, and your hair wasn’t covered at all. Was this a game to you?

“You’re going to tear a chunk of that desk off again,” Lyla said, flickering above his shoulder. He grunted, looking down to see the talons extended from the pads of his fingers sinking into the material of the desk. He quickly yanked his hands off the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Lyla looked him up and down, grinning mischievously. “You should just let them join already, instead of stalking them.”

“I’m not stalking them,” he retorted, closing out the window.

“Right right right,” Lyla responded. “What’s this then?” She snapped her fingers, and videos and videos of you pop into view; you shaking hands with Captain Stacy; you swinging around your Earth’s New York City; you enjoying your morning coffee on your balcony; you. You. You—

“You have a problem dude.”

“It’s not like that,” Miguel said, a growl seeping into his words. “I’m just… making sure they are safe.”

“You could make them safer if you just let them join~”

“No.” Miguel rubbed his temples, glancing up to stare at you on the monitor.

Lyla tsked, checking her nails as if she was in dire need of a manicure. “How could I forget you had this self-loathing, cynical nature about you. Shielding them from yourself is just going to drive the both of us insane.”

“Lyla,” Miguel said, “activate ‘do not disturb’ mode.”

“Whatever, stalker.” With a roll of her eyes, Lyla flickered out of view, leaving Miguel alone. With only you.

His eyes are drawn to an advertisement in the background of one of the videos. You, in your Spider suit, advertising some energy drink on a giant screen in the middle of Times Square. Another screen showed you advertising some sort of athletic wear, and he could see someone dressed in your suit down below, taking pictures with tourists. Sure, Spider-People in almost every dimension take on advertisements, sell merchandise, and sign autographs. But everyone loved you, everyone wanted to get close to you. You even got J. Jonah Jameson to soften up to you with your cushy job as editor of The Daily Bugle.

In every dimension, everyone admired you, adored you, even. You were cherished by all.

And in every dimension, Miguel was the cause of your death.

Miguel gritted his teeth, a fang threatening to break the skin of his lip. The flood of incoming memories was doing nothing to dull the pain behind his eyes, and he slammed a fist into one of the monitors, watching as it flickered once, and all of the orange screens turned to black.

He held his head in his hand, mind drifting to the first dimension he had found you in. His dimension.

Absolutely intelligent, hard-working, ambitious, you joined Alchemax as an intern with the goal of being a top geneticist, like himself. As you moved up in the ranks, you became a member of Miguel’s team, tracked to design a serum that could allow anyone to gain superpowers. Miguel viewed you as a vital member of his team; obedient without needing to be, kind and optimistic despite the workload assigned to them all, and one to watch. With your brains and work ethic, you would have been at the top of Alchemax in no time.

Would have. It all went wrong, and it was his fault. You and him were both against using felons as test subjects for the serums, but it was out of both of your hands. You were only supposed to take the blood of the man they had injected with the serum, with Miguel monitoring the screen from outside the room. It happened instantaneously. The man in the hospital bed reacted negatively to the serum, growing the legs of a spider in seconds and grabbing you by the throat. Miguel watched in horror as the man wrapped his spider legs around your neck, slamming you over and over again against the cool tile walls.

The next thing he remembered was security gunning the man down, and him cradling you in his arms.

That was the first of the tragedies that plagued his life. When he decided to abandon his dimension for another one, one where he wasn’t afflicted by the role of Spider-Man, he was not expecting to find a dimension where he and you had a family together. For a split second, he imagined a world where he had taken you up on the offer of having a drink after work, if he answered those silly pictures you sent him more often. A world where the two of you had a family, and he didn’t have to take one over.

That thought collapsed when he saw what became of you in this new world. Miguel—this version of himself—didn’t love you. Not like he should have. After years of marriage, you discovered his lies, his deceit, his cheating. You seperated from him immediately, moving into your sister’s place as you began divorce and custody proceedings. Then, one night, while you were driving to your old apartment to pick up Gabriella, you were struck by a drunk driver.

You, this dimension’s favored meteorologist, were mourned for weeks. News channels across New York showed your face and aired your best segments in memoriam. New York City’s treasured weather forecaster, dead at the hands of a drunk driver, leaving behind a devastated husband and daughter. Even in this dimension, you were loved by all.

Miguel had killed you twice, and didn’t even know the second time. If that version of him hadn’t been so despicable, hadn’t thrown away something so precious, then you wouldn’t have been driving that night. It was his fault.

So when he saw that dimension’s Miguel be gunned down, what was he to do? Leave Gabriella to be an orphan? He couldn’t do that. Not to you. She’d be loved by a regretful father, and your memory would be kept alive until he died.

How naive he was.

“Earth to Miguel,” a voice chimed. Miguel stopped his self-inflicted mental torture to glare at Lyla.

“I thought I put you on ‘do not disturb’.”

“Have you not seen your watch blinking? Anomaly detected on Earth-799. Jess needs backup.”

His breath hitched, eyes trailing down to his Gizmo where he found several missed calls from Jess. “Send Hobie,” he said, voice lacking emotion. The thought of seeing you face to face made his stomach churn.

“He’s not available,” Lyla replied, pushing her heart shaped sunglasses up.

“Then send Peter B.,” he said, annoyance seeping into his voice.

“He’s in a ‘Daddy and Me’ class; he sent pictures, wanna see?” Lyla asked, pulling out her phone.

“No!” Miguel snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Send Ben, send Lego Peter, send Pav! Send anyone but me.”

Lyla tutted, shaking her head. “No one is available. Jess needs you, Miguel.”

Miguel cursed under his breath, his holographic mask suddenly covering his face. He tapped a few buttons on his Gizmo, eyes squinting at the brightness of the portal that opened next to his workstation. He took a step into the portal, praying that this time would be different.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #hannah writes

415 notes · View notes

nights-at-crystarium · 8 months

Text

You know what, I assume that people always read my pinned, or notice the pointer "new reader? start here" in every new Fragments' episode. I might be deluding myself. So hi hello lemme TALK ABOUT MY COMIC.

Before I get too rambly (and I mean RAMBLY), here's a quick intro. Fragments is a comic focused on feels and slice of life, made by a queer guy, aiming to ~character study~ the main cast (Vivi, Raha, Alisaie, Feo Ul) and fill in the gaps in canon (or linger in canon moments that needed more air imo), the tone ranging from angst to fluff to meme. Good punches require a good windup, so please don't expect angst anytime soon :3c

The story's segmented (fragmented, heh) into episodes. Episodes 1-11 take place in ARR, you can enjoy them with no worry about spoilers. Episode 12 onward is ShB, with all the spoilers and lorebending.

My storytelling style assumes you haven't only played through ShB, but know it like the back of your hand, i.e. it's for nerds and thinkers. Of course there's plenty of silly moments that don't require any deep knowledge, but the overarching story does. Often I skip canon events, only hinting that they took place, simply because I don't wanna retell the msq 1:1, I've got plenty of original scenes waiting to be drawn. You're in for a treat if you like obsessing over emotional and moral implications of things. And, yes, this's a story about a morally grey mc. Don't expect to be spoon-fed "and this's why that thing's bad, kids".

Currently I've outlined all the main story beats up until post EW, so it's like, not being winged as I go. Yes I refine things here and there, but I know where I'm going. I'm going ham!!!! With the lorebending post ShB. Initially I didn't plan to, but the more I learned about Vivi and personally grew as a writer, the more courage I got to "divorce" from canon. The general xiv story may still be good wherever it's headed, but it's not suited for an established wolgraha, so I'm making food for myself.

Everyone imagines the lil scenes from their wol's life, I'm taking that a tiiiiiny step further. Fragments tells a cohesive story that's looking to be the longest project at least in our corner. I can and will hyperfixate on this for years.

I started out just like many others, being hit with ShB like a truck, I wanted to put a catboy under a microscope and rotate him forever. Although I'd already been drawing for decades, I didn't have the comic-making skills yet, or eloquence to write the dialogue, so I spent the first half of 2022 self-studying, just because I needed a mouth to be able to scream about my ship.

Vivi didn't exist prior to my obsession with Exarch. He was made for this, he started out as a reagent (or a foil, now that I know fancy writing terms) for a rich and fun chemistry, and keep myself entertained for years, first and foremost.

Me, a fool: okay let's make a guy that falls in love with Exarch in this particular moment, what kinda life must he have led to- Me: ....oh no

The chemistry quickly bubbled up and exploded in my face, involving not only Exarch, but other characters (first as a means to subtly tell about Vivi, then they also demanded their own screentime), and here I am, sitting with a massive script on my hands, drawing my blorbos every day. Thanks for enabling that btw.

I care about characters a lot. I ask a lot of whys and hows. I'm critical-minded and burned on many bad stories that did their characters dirty, and I wanna be an opposing example. What I'm doing is extremely ambitious and risky, yes, but I can only invite you to tag along and see if I stick to my word.

The internet's a cruel and unforgiving place nowadays, and here I am, pitting my passion against what feels like decaying humanity. I'm making this comic to keep myself happy above all else, being sincere and cringe because life's too short to be anything else.

Thanks for reading this, and if you haven't yet, read Fragments here!

#ffxiv #vivien rell #crystal exarch #g'raha tia #wol x g'raha tia #wolgraha #own: next lvl #fragments talk

303 notes · View notes

kerrtesy · 6 months

Text

A Heads Up

Hello everyone, I hope you all are having a great day or night, whatever time it is for y'all.

Making this post to explain and elaborate on some parts of the recent AU (Bowser's Bodyguard AU, which I'm thinking of renaming) I've been working on. This is going to cover the general story idea, overall vibe, and the games I'm covering with this along with questions I think people may have about the general au.

Don't worry I'll always have this AU tagged, so if you don't like it you can block it easily.

So as stated above this is more of a clarification post and just generally covering my plans for this AU just so people know what to expect.

So I want this AU to be around 6 to 8 main chapters, where I will see if I can combine the Paper and Mario & Luigi universes into one. The first chapter will be on the Mario Movie.

What games will you be covering?

So below are games I definitely want to cover, please note the games are listed in no particular order at the moment.

Super Paper Mario

Paper Mario Thousand Year

Mario and Luigi Superstar Saga

Bowser's Inside Story

Dream Team

All games are going to be rewritten within mind of the character/setup changes. I'm not a huge fan of just writing something that is a paint-by-numbers retelling of the original story; if that's your cup of tea more power too you this is not to throw any shade on that!

For both Superstar Sage and Inside Story I do want to include the side stories the remakes added.

I will say Bowser's Inside Story will be heavily rewritten and I plan on calling it "Fawful's Revenge." The two main reasons are that I'm having Luigi prevent Bowser from eating the vacuum shroom which prevents a lot of the original plot, and I just don't want to draw the inside of Bowser. I don't know what else to say here. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Games that will either be short stories or I'm torn on covering:

Super Mario 2

Mario Galaxy (combining 1 and 2)

Mario RPG

Mario Odyssey

Origami King

Mario Sunshine

Luigi's Mansion 1 & 2

Rabbids Spark of Hope

Paper Mario 64

Super Mario 2 is going to cover Luigi's history with the Shy Guys, particularly with him usurping King Wart. This one might become a full/long chapter.

Mario Galaxy is one that might become a full chapter. It depends on what I end up covering. For instance, at the moment I'm debating on whether to have a semi-character death in it. It's weird because on one hand I don't fully consider this a character death, but it also kind of is because they leave the comic at this point and this does heavily impact the cast. So I'm unsure how to fully label this yet.

Mario RPG is a game I am very intrigued by and I would like to incorporate it into the story, but I do not know the plot of the story so it is on the fence right now. I do have at least a few short comics planned for it.

Mario Odyssey is just going to be a few short comics.

Origami King is where I don't know the full plot, but I'd like to do a comic about Shroom City just for some fun world building.

Mario Sunshine I am so torn on whether it would be a full chapter or just a short. I'm going to have to see where I go with it. Whatever it becomes I do plan on calling the chapter/comic "Obligatory Beach Episode."

Luigi's Mansion I'm going to be combining the first two games. I really want this to be a full chapter, I have just been struggling to plan out a full story for it along with fitting it into the rest of the games. I do want to try, but just in case I can't I'm slapping it into this category.

I need to give Rabbids a Spark of Hope a comic or two as Luigi and Bowser have a mission in there that is solely tied to their characters called "The Brains and the Brawn" which helped me think of their setup in this.

Paper Mario 64 will be another backstory one where Luigi attempts to use the Star Rod to send him home, to mixed results.

Games I am not covering:

Please note the games listed below are NOT because I think they are bad games, it's more because I haven't played them and/or I just don't have good ideas for how to fit them into the story.

Color Splash

Sticker Star

Paper Jam

Partners in Time

For Color Splash and Sticker Star, I just don't know the full plots of these games. Though I might do the train scene that occurs in Color Splash when Mario talks to that one Shy Guy.

Paper Jam is similar to the two listed above where I just don't know the plot and I don't want to deal with the multiverse. As in this I'm trying to combine the Paper universe with the Mario and Luigi universe into one.

Partners in Time could change, but at the moment I'm counting it as not covering as I'm just using the concept and the machine E Gadd builds. It won't deal with time travel, but instead the concept of looking into someone's memories. I don't like covering time travel so I'm just skipping it. Like I said I might cover the Cobalt Star and Princess Shroob, but I don't have a lot of ideas going for this so it might just be skipped entirely with her and her sister as villains.

Will there be shipping?

No, I'm sorry if you were hoping for anything. The most there will be is probably implied Peach x Mario, but that's it for the moment. If any of this changes I'll give a heads up just so no one is caught off guard. But romance isn't really the focus of this comic nor do I want to write romance. Listen just trust me on this you don't want me writing romance, I'm not good at it, this is for the best.

Just in case I am also just going to flat out say this so no one gets mad or feels misled when reading these comics. There will be no Bowser x Luigi in this story. Listen it's a funny and shockingly mostly wholesome ship, but it's not happening here. So I'm sorry if you were hoping for it, but I'm not doing it.

There might be some one-sided Luigi x Daisy (honestly thinking about doing Daisy x Waluigi because their Mario Party team name is Awkward Date and that is hilarious), and/or one-sided Luigi x Peasley, but in this Bowser will be majorly crushing on Peach. Bowser and Luigi are just platonic co-parenting the koopalings (think the Dungeons and Dragon movie with Sofina and Edgin). I just wanted to state this here so everyone is on the same page.

Quick side note: This isn't about shipping, but character-wise Donkey Kong and anything related to his games will only be in the first chapter. I struggle to write him and I don't know how to involve him in the other storylines so I'm just gonna have him chill in his kingdom. He will probably be making a reappearance in Dream Team as that is where I plan to end the comic.

What is the overall story/vibe of the comic?

The main story is going to focus on adventure and learning to love yourself. That's really the main premise. The story itself is going to focus on Luigi learning how to like himself for who he is and reconnecting with Mario and others while going on adventures. The big overall conflict will be the Chaos Heart itself. In this I really want to play around with the concept of the Chaos Heart and what if it didn't just go away after Super Paper Mario. I don't want to say too much about it at the moment as I don't want to spoil that part of the plot.

I feel bad because with the initial comic/sketches of this au, I made it seem a lot more dramatic/angsty than it will be. Sure there's going to be some drama but it really is more focused on the fun of the world, the adventures the characters go on, and the friendships that form out of them. I swear it's not as angsty (or I guess edgy, not sure if it was or not??) as the original comic made it seem so I apologize if that is what you were looking for.

Why I am calling Luigi Mr. L in this?

So in this, I am having Mr. L be more of his 'work mode.' It is designed to be more of a persona he puts on so he can do his job more effectively, but it is also still a part of his personality. I want to include more of his temper which is often portrayed through animations in Mario & Luigi (you know his stomping tantrum animations). Along with a few other notes, like how in the first Luigi's Mansion you kind of find some pretty sassy/sarcastic remarks through the pictures he takes with the Game Boy Horror, along with some of his dialogue in the Paper Mario games. I also want to play into him having a bit of an ego as well (playing more into the Mr. L in Super Paper Mario).

However, at the core, I do want to keep him a more socially awkward, easily frightened, and a very kind person outside of the mask/persona. At the end of the day he really just wants what is best for his friends and family. And that he is always ready to help someone even if he is scared out of his mind (though he might complain about not getting paid, or take a bit of convincing when it comes to dealing with ghosts.) I am also keeping the self-esteem issues, more so dealing with the fact he feels like all he has done is stumble through life making one mistake after another, and never being enough for the people he cares about in his life.

What are the inspirations for this?

Ghibli movies, particularly Howl's Moving Castle, Princess Mononoke, and Spirited Away. I love their world building and how they handle character stories.

Magical Girl animes, I cannot stress enough how much the masks and his powers/setup are based on the magical girl shows I grew up on.

Majora's Mask, I want to do quite a bit with the masks themselves in this setup. I'm not going to elaborate much on them yet, because I prefer to reveal how they function in the comics than through this ramble.

Funnily enough, the character design that kicked off this au, or at least Mr. L's design was Death from Puss in Boots the Last Wish. I can explain, it was his cloak and his whistle. I've been playing through Super Paper Mario and I kept wondering what if they incorporated references to Luigi's Mansion more like maybe putting in his whistling, or going with a more horror aesthetic for him. Or even goes more into the concept of shadows as well, playing not only his ties with ghosts but also how Luigi feels like he is constantly in Mario's shadow. And when I saw the Mario Movie and that he was captured by the Shy Guys I was like hey wait a minute, I can do something with that.

So this story is just me playing around with those thoughts. Don't get me wrong though, him building robots to fight you along with the absolute banger of a jazz theme, and his cocky/petty attitude I have no notes and I like how he is done in the game.

So yeah this pretty much covers everything, if you read all of this kudos, I know this was long, but I hope I clarified what this comic is going to be like. Though please note that I have a job and I'm going through school, so this is going to take a bit to get going. I'm still writing out the base story, and I like to have one or two chapters fully drawn before I start posting it. I do plan on posting some of the short comics and doodles while working on the main writing.

Thank you for reading my rambles. I hope you all have a good one! : D

#bowsers bodyguard au #mario and the phantom #i think that might be the new name i call this au #im gonna test it out

178 notes · View notes

felixfeliccis · 8 months

Text

intro post or whatever

Hi girlies, it is I, Felix. My url is not connected to h*rry potter and if you thought that, for even a second, then you're very wrong and should be ashamed :). I post trans comics here, and sometimes doodles, if I feel like it. Sometimes I talk about ace attorney or good omens, but not very often because I prefer to keep my diseases contained. There's no schedule, if you can't sense my next comic then you're not fit for my blog, you heathen.

If you ever want to make fanart for me then either send it to my askbox, or tag me, cuz I probably won't see it otherwise.

Also my askbox is always open so feel free to ask me whatever.

I don't do commissions BUT I sometimes do requests if I think they're funny enough, OR if they're from a friend.

If you're here only for the comics, and not for my charming personality, I suggest you go follow my series on webtoons:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

https://href.li/?https://www.webtoons.com/en/canvas/feeling-felix/list?title_no=902309

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

or my reddit (cuz yeah im posting there again what about it):

https://href.li/?https://www.reddit.com/user/YummyTea_UwU

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

or cohost!

https://cohost.org/FelixFeliccis?page=0

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Also don't repost my art anywhere ever, if you see my art posted anywhere other than the sites above, tumblr or twitter(link not included cuz I don't post there anymore) then I'm not the one who posted it.

Yeah i dunno what else to add, Ill probably update this post every now and then, or maybe I wont. Who knows? Now get out of my sight

336 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 2 years

Text

oh 🥺

not going to do all my tags bc this is quite a short one (thank u breakfastonuranus for the gif!)

Tangerine hates children. Definitely. Truly. No, he doesn’t smile to himself when a baby locks eyes and starts grinning at him at a café. He doesn’t enjoy the sound of kids playing outside in the street, reminding him of his own childhood with Lemon. And he definitely doesn’t want to have one of his own.

Ever.

You’re in the supermarket together. Boring task, but it has to be done. You’ve filled up a basket when you really should have gotten a trolley. The two of you had playfully bickered about it until you relented and went back to the front of the shop, so he’s standing waiting for you in the cereal aisle. As he eyes up all the shite that lines the shelves, Tangerine becomes aware of a presence.

A little girl is standing next to him. She looks maybe five years old. She’s staring at him with a singular intensity only a child can muster.

“‘Scuse me,” she says, as if she hasn’t already got his attention. He checks and there’s nobody else around. Definitely talking to him then.

“Erm, yeah?”

She points a finger to a shelf far above her head, to a box with a unicorn on it. The sugar content seems alarmingly high.

“Can you get that for me?” she asks, then as an addendum, “Please.”

Oh, right. He might claim to not like children, but he doesn’t feel a particular urge to tell her to fuck off. He turns around and does as he’s bid instead. Grabs the box, holds it out to her. The little girl takes it politely from his hand. It’s about half as big as she is, it’s a bit comical.

“Thanks,” she says, with a grin full of missing milk teeth. And for a moment, just a moment, he sees himself with his own little girl, picking her up to grab her cereal, maybe depositing her on his shoulder afterwards. How you’d glow with pride at your little family. How happy he’d be as a family man himself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as she speeds off. He looks behind him, sensing someone, and sees you standing with a trolley; there’s a huge grin plastered on your face.

“Who was that?”

“Fuck knows. Some kid,” he replies, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance. You see through that in a second.

“Aww, you getting broody, Tan?”

He hates that word and harrumphs at the accusation.

Still. The image of there being three of you, rather than two, doesn’t leave him all day.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #request

3K notes · View notes

journeytomonkiekid · 8 months

Text

RULES

DO NOT:

Make Fanchildren for Macaque and Wan Ji. Do not give them adopted kids, do not put them in charge of kids, do not make them look after anyone. They are not care-takers.

Have your OC interacting with any of mine. Only mutuals (Ask first) and friends can do this.

In tow with the previous two, do not "What if-". If you have to ask, the answer is probably 'no'.

Create characters with relationships to my OCs. Not even tangentially. Only mutuals (Ask first) and friends can do this

Ask when the next page is up/when I'm going to draw something/ask about the chapter page-count/when it will be finished/anything that pushes me to work faster or more than I can/need to. You're getting this for free, bugger off.

Tag me in chain games. A chain/tag game is any post where you do a task, (Such as listing music, or do some writing challenge) then tag a number of people at the end to pass it on. Unless it specifically has to do with me, I don't want to be involved.

Refer to the characters or otherwise in this story using Japanese terminology. You will be immediately banned. This includes things like using "Kitsune" instead of "Huli Jing", "Sakura" for "Cherry Blossom", or otherwise lumping east asian cultures together.

Similar to previous rule, do not depict ANY characters in this comic wearing Japanese clothing, doing traditionally Japanese tasks, interacting with specifically Japanese culture.

Give me unprompted critique, or offer your ideas for characters/story plots/whatever. I don't care. Keep it to yourself. Speculations, or theories, are fine, and don't fall under this category.

inject fanon unless it's specifically proven otherwise in the show or within the comic. Example: ✅Macaque's ears glow in different colors: Shown in the comic ✅Macaque eats bananas: Shown in the show ❌Macaque takes care of/trains the hostess: No evidence beyond fanon ❌Macaque has white fur: Not confirmed within the show.

Misgender Elle. Elle is They/Them.

inject my work into an AI machine, or generator.

read this comic unless you are a legal adult

Repost my early access art. Do not trace, or copy, or repost in full without credit. Translations walk a very fine-line. Translators may not repost translated pages from my patreon until they are public.

Show or point my attention to someone talking badly about me or my work. It's their opinion, and I'd rather not see it.

tell me any personal/private information. I don't need to know. This goes especially for developing alters of any of my characters. I don't care and I don't want to know.

You may:

Create fanart/fanfiction of this comic, as long as you adhere to the above rules. Any creation is valued. (Except AI. Get that shit away from me)

Translate this comic into another language ONLY if pages link back to this blog, or my Patreon.

ask questions about the characters/story, but do not send the same message multiple times. If I don't answer, I don't answer, leave it at that.

Ask for clarification if something is unclear.

Leave comments/ Reblog posts with tags/ etc.

Tag me in something that relates to Eclipse Apprentice.

289 notes · View notes

pathos-logical · 1 year

Text

How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)

Plain text: How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)

This is a list aimed mostly at helping people who already write IDs; for guides at learning how to do them yourself, check my accessibility and image description tags! I write this with close to two years of experience with IDs and chronic pain :)

Get used to writing some IDs by using both your phone and your computer, if you can! I find it easier to type long-form on my laptop, so I set up videos and long comics on my phone, which I then prop up against my laptop screen so I can easily reference the post without constantly scrolling or turning my head

I will never stop plugging onlineocr.net. I use it to ID everything from six-word tags to screenshots of long posts to even comic dialogue! On that last note, convertcase.net can convert text between all-caps, lowercase, sentence case, and title case, which is super helpful

Limit the number of drafts/posts-to-be-described you save. No, seriously. I never go above 10 undescribed drafts on any of my four blogs. It doesn’t have to be that low, but this has done wonders (italics: wonders) for my productivity and willingness to write IDs. If I ever get above that limit, even if it’s two or three more, I immediately either describe the lowest-effort post or purge some, and if I can't do that then I stop saving things to drafts no matter what. No exceptions! Sticking to this will make your life so much easier and less stressful

My pinned post has a link to a community doc of meme description templates!

Ask! For! Help! Please welcome to the stage the People’s Accessibility Server! It’s full of lovely people and organized into channels where you can request/volunteer descriptions and ask/answer questions

I make great use of voice-to-text and glide typing on my phone to save my hands some effort!

Something is always better than nothing!!! A short two-sentence or one-sentence ID is better than no ID at all. Take it easy :)

If you feel guilty about being unable to reblog amazing but undescribed art, try getting into the habit of replying to OP’s post to let them know you liked it! This makes me feel less pressured to ID absolutely everything I see

This is a sillier one, but I tag posts I describe as "described" and "described by me." When saving to drafts, I never preemptively tag with "described by me," since for some reason that always makes me feel extra pressure and extra stress. Consider doing something similar for yourself if that applies!

I frequently find myself looking at pieces of art which feel like they need to be considered for a bit before I can write an ID for them, and those usually get thrown into drafts, where the dread for writing a comprehensive ID just builds. Don’t do that! Instead, try just staying in the reblog field for a bit and focus on the most relevant aspects of the piece. Marinate on them for a little; don’t rush, but don’t spend more than a handful of seconds either. I find after that the art becomes way easier to describe than it initially seemed!

On that note, look for shortcuts that make IDs less taxing for you to do! For example, I only ever describe clothes in art if they're relevant to the piece; not doing that every time saves a lot of time and energy for me personally

Building off of that, consider excusing yourself from a particular kind of ID if you want to. Give yourself a free pass for 4chan posts, or fanart by an artist who does really good but really complex comics, whatever. Let it be someone else's responsibility and feel twice as proud about the work that you can now allot more energy to!

As always, make an effort to find and follow fellow describers! It’s always encouraging to get described posts on your dash, and I find that sometimes I'm happier to ID an undescribed post when the person who put it on my dash is a friend who tagged it with "no ID"

TL;DR: To make ID-writing less stressful and more low-effort, use different devices and software like onlineocr.net and voice-to-text, limit the amount of work you expect yourself to do, and reach out to artists and other describers!

#i have no idea if there's a real audience for this post but this is a genuine list of things i do to help myself out #i hope it can help someone else out too <3 #accessibility #image descriptions #my posts #kay talks #long post #this has been in my drafts for so long i'm exiling it because i can't stand wondering if it's coherent any longer

1K notes · View notes

nanamimizz · 1 month

Text

tags: 18+ minors dni / fem reader / fingering / reader is mexican / spanish / religious imagery / aftercare / hinted virginity loss / penetration /2.6k/ pwp - let me know if i miss something.

synopsis: javier escuella feels an all encompassing desire to have you. you feel it too, maybe even more.

Javier laughs into your lips, you are kissing him with the reverence of the faithful. You kiss sweetly, gently with the undercut of hunger he is all too happy to sate. Your form is soft beneath his hands, flesh pillabe like the strings on his guitar and the trigger of his revolver - the hollow of his palms filled with the curve of your hips. Javier nips at your lip until he can hear you hiss from the sting among your sighs from the pleasure of having him suck on your tongue.

“I can’t believe you - all I did was kiss you,” he stops to puff a breathe against your lips snickering at the dazed look on your face and the glistening spit on your lips, “and now you’re letting me fuck you.”

You whine, high and embarrassed but so unbearably needy and pressing yourself up against him like a cat in heat. There’s a little gold necklace threaded along the slopes of your collar - it glints against your untouched and unblemished skin like a comet, looping along your form in a circle until completion where it stays in perpetual orbit. Javier doesn’t know if he should be jealous of the thin necklace or not.

Your nightgown is off, spread out on the ground and Javier’s eyes are caught on the pendant that holds the face of La Virgen that glints in the lowlight of his tent - his eyes meet hers and he feels a shiver against his spine. Of course she would be there, looped above your too-good heart and appearing before him. It almost pains him to touch you, the holiness of your skin burning his palms that are too greedy to stay away.

You gasp his name and it brings him back to you - it brings his lips to your chest and you sigh as your hands twist on the fabric of his shirt clad shoulders like you are scared to touch him. You still have your bloomers, the white cotton stark against his tan hands and he presses another kiss right above your heart as it stutters tucked away in your ribs.

“Esta bien hermosa - you can touch me.” The pet name makes you tremble, whining when the word graces your flushed ears. Hermosa, meaning beautiful or gorgeous in the language your mother would sing you to when you were a girl. Your nostalgia brings desperation and it only serves to make you needier, wanting for more of the man above you like how priests desire the light of God. You think of that ill-stricken Reverend that wanders this camp and something aches in your chest as you let your hands go over the curve of his shoulders and anchor yourself there. Teeth aching with each suck on your tongue you don’t notice it when your bloomers are off until the brisk cool night breeze dances on your bare thighs. The skin there is hot and growing more so when he lets his hands settle on the smooth skin.

It’s almost comical how perfectly you fit in his roughed hands, his callouses from his knife so seamlessly accepted by the plush of your thighs. Like the velvet cushions rich men sit in their gilded train cars and golden stagecoaches. You go from velvet to wet silk with simple touches and you moan something sweetly into his ear as his face goes to your chest and his hands in between your thighs. The backs of his knuckles tease the wetness of your slick that leaks like honey and Javier lets his lips kiss the bud of your nipple softly but not without letting his teeth have their own kiss at the edge to make you whine.

“You are so wet, leaking for me - you’ll make a mess on my pants mi amor.” His teasing is endless and you can hear that smile you see whenever you blink. You jumble out a half-assed apology and it makes Javier laugh at you again. He must have you in quite the state if it’s making your perfectly trained manners fall off like wool when faced with sheep shears. His fingers have made their way to where you are the most needy - letting them pet along the slit and cup at your mound. You moan his name, oh so, softly when he squeezes gently, cradling your most delicate part the same way he cradles the neck of his guitar.

“Javi - please, please.” The shortened version of his name makes him grin, shivering pleasantly at how affection given only to him melts into his ears like syrup.

“Ya se, ya se. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight.” Dark eyes are wicked at how they glint in the low orange light of his tent as he lets one finger slip in. He reclines himself back so he can watch how you take him.

Javier does not profess how he would take care of you every night for the rest of the nights you have in your life.

You whine thinly into the air, and it makes him hiss at how tight you are around his one finger.

“Relax, chiquita - I can’t take care of you when you’re all tense like this. Shh, shh,” he murmurs to you and in return you whine with a nod; pliable and sweet for him as you let your legs shuffle more open, working on letting him in and letting him deeper. One finger turns to two, and they curl into you cruelly without respite for how you weep and sniffle at the pleasure he tugs from you like music from his guitar strings. Your mouth is hanging open, drool shining on your lips as you let out thin little sounds.

You feel full, and pleasure dances along your spine as his thumb plays with the glimmering pearl of your clit. You whine - no sing his name like gospel and it makes something inside his stomach preen like a peacock.

Javier is dedicated, giving you an even pace and deep curls of his fingers to make you soft and loose for him. Dark brown eyes watch you with the precision of a predator - eagerly taking in how sweat drips down the middle of your breasts and how your jaw drops to make out little pants of his name just for him to hear. His fingers do just enough to bring you to the edge, and you stutter over your words as you push at his wrist with the desperation that is unbecoming of you. Etiquette and education are long gone from your mind as you beg him with an addled mind.

“Please, please not - not like that,” you stutter and let out soft little moans in between each word as Javier remains unmoved; letting his fingers stay inside you at their same pace, dark brown eyes taking in how even this almost makes you weep in pleasure. His cock stirs in his jeans at how it will be when he’s inside of you, filling you well beyond anything you’ve ever had.

“No, like this - it will hurt if you don’t cum now.” He mutters, voice thick with lust as he watches your hips twitch and jump when you have begun to hit the highest peak of your pleasure. Your body is eager for his fingers, tightening and fluttering around them as you leak down to his palm. Javier goes to shush you but you’re a good girl he realizes, watching you with a grin at how your hands shoot up to your mouth to muffle your long winded whines when you crash and cum for him. His voice is soft, reassuring you as you ride out your pleasure with the trembling of your hips and the quickened rising falls of your chest.

“Just like that - like that. There you go, there you go. Cum for me, give me this one and I’ll give you another.” He promises you, his accent thick as he watches your eyes go dark and unfocused as you burn with hot desire for him until he hears your broken voice mumble; “There’s more?”

He laughs. Teasingly, adoringly, lovingly and so many other words he can’t quite say.

“Si mi vida, there is always more with me. That I can promise you.”

Again, he laughs at the way he feels you twitch around his fingers that have stilled inside at the prospect of what more entails. He won’t admit to how his cock twitches in time with you tucked away in his pants.

You whine at the idea, hot at the image of being filled with all of him and whine again when his fingers slip out of you. Gossamer strands of your cum follow them, only to break and splatter along the inside of your flushed thighs. Javier smiles the same charming smile as when he sings and soothes you by rubbing your thigh with one hand while the other goes to undo his belt buckle.

You don’t see the length of him, only feel the heat of him against the petals of your cunt and it’s enough for you to yelp like some poor animal caught in a trap. Javier is bent over you, the build of his slim body covering you with his elbow supporting him above your head, eyes attuned to the half lit scene before him. You, sweating enough to make strands of your hair stick your flushed face with your eyes half lidded and mouth parted. His hips move without him thinking, coating his length in your glimmering release and rubbing against your still sensitive clit that it makes you flinch - mewling his name in a wet and defeated tone that makes him huff in half fondness-half teasing.

“Javi-” you whine, hotter than you have ever been and voice cracking when the head of his cock brushes past your entrance and makes its way in. You gasp into his mouth, one hand coming to cover your eyes and the other gripping at the fabric of his shoulder. Javier sighs against your lips and kisses you to muffle his own noises - higher pitched than he’d like to admit they are lost in between your two mouths as you take another inch of him. He is long, he knows this and you are tight ; tighter than anyone else he’s ever been with due to your lack of experience so he is slow with you despite how he wants to devour you entirely with one stroke.

Javier is tactical when he wants to be and is more than practical when he has to be so he controls himself, letting you have him inch by torturous inch. You are panting, throwing your head back in a way that lets him catch the tears that make it down your cheek and are uncovered by your hand. With one hand he bats away yours until your face - glistening and flushed is revealed to him as your mouth shines with drool from pleasure. His thumb goes to wipe away a tear and you move to feel the warmth of him more closely.

“Why are you crying hermosa, hm?” He asks you, sighing at how you take more of him so sweetly. You don’t respond only squealing and squeezing around him as you lose more of yourself on his cock. Half of him is seated inside you, enough for you to moan his name brokenly as you beg for more despite you wincing when he moves. Javier grunts and stops, letting the half of him that’s inside you stay still to let you breathe

“You can,” you pant, “you can put the whole thing in - please, please put it in.” You beg, and a thrill goes up his spine at the idea of seeing you weep from his cock being too much runs across his mind before he pushes it to the side. You are far too sweet, too delicate to be treated so roughly by him. You aren’t a working girl he can forget about come morning but the woman he wants to wake up to, which is why it’s easy for him to do what he thinks to be best.

He denies you.

“No, this is -” he sighs deeply at the way you feel around him - slick and wet and wanting for him to give you more until it aches. “This is enough. You’ll take the rest next time.” You whine at the thought and whine again when he pulls his slim hips back to fuck you like that. He gives you slow, careful thrusts with the hand that cradles your face sneaking down to rub at your pulsing clit with gentle precision. It’s almost too much for you, he notes and he feels bad that the sight of you weeping on half his cock, losing your mind with your eyes glassy from tears is doing it more for him than anything else.

You’ve always been a proper girl, ever since he saw you on your horse in the snow of Colter looking at him with the sweetest eyes framed by snowflakes. There’s a sick pleasure tugging at his stomach at how he has you now, manners gone and all you are now is debauched and drunk on him. It’s almost enough to make him finish and clearly it’s enough to get you there too by the way you weep out the little nickname you gave him.

“Javi, Javi, ’m going to -” He cuts you off with a punched out exhale, grinding his molders to keep from cumming inside by how you keep tightening around him like a vice.

“Go let go for me, mi amor - you’ve been so good.” With that you break, voice so ruined it cracks when you whine out babbles of precious thank yous in his ear as you come to completion a second and last time for the night. It’s painful, the last drag he gets of your cunt before he tugs at his sticky and slick cock to shoot his spend against the mound of your cunt. The sight of him dripping down to your twitching lower half more than makes up for it and he is more than willing to bend back over you to press gentle kiss after kiss on your panting lips. Your eyes had fluttered close and you babbled mindlessly under his gentle touches as you slowly came back down to look up at him with blearily eyes. Javier smiles at you with all the tenderness of the world when you wrap your arms around his neck - he manages to settle on his side with you in his arms and you tuck your face into his neck. You nuzzle the skin and sight softly, eyes red and half lidded tired from all he has pulled for you. Javier is soft with you, spoiling you by letting his nails scratch your scalp the way you like.

“Rest mi vida, I’ll clean you up.” he murmurs into your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. You hum, murmur his name and a soft little confession of love before your eyes slip shut. You shiver when the soft fabric of a pocket square wipes at the mess of your swollen cunt and whine when you are moved to have your nightgown pulled over your head. Through your fussing Javier remains gentle, whispering praise as he settles you to his chest to sleep. When you awake you’ll be faced with teasing you thought you were quiet enough to avoid but that can wait. Now your eyes are heavy and Javier’s heartbeat is soothing - anything else can wait as for now you want for nothing else.

#lamb.writes #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella smut #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 smut

146 notes · View notes

plzfeedmebread · 1 year

Text

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 4

word count: 8212

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: slight violence, swearing, fluff, reunion, so much crying

Author's Note: Man. Partway through writing this, I realized it was gonna surpass 10k, so had to break it up into more parts lmao. No smut in this chapter folks, sorry! Next chapter I promise bb xo

You could lay there forever, you think. Tightly pressed into your mate’s side, bonded. Body aching from love making. But such bliss cannot last, not while you’re still a prisoner.

Quaritch feels your unease through the bond. He knows you’re right. He looks to the holo-clock on his bedside. It’s the early hours of the morning, still have a few hours before sunrise. He starts rubbing slow soothing patterns on your back. You hum softly.

He thinks about what’s going to happen to you in the morning. The General said she wanted you ready in a few days, get you back in that machine. He has no doubt in his mind that she’d be willing to push you to the brink of death again. He’s grateful the machine broke when it did. He swears he heard Her voice when it did. Did She intervene? If so, he resolves to thank Her properly when he can.

First and foremost; he needs a plan to get you the fuck outta here. Now with his memories fully back in place, any allegiance he once had to this place, to the RDA, has gone straight out the window. He spent a lot of his afterlife in quiet contemplation. It was a painful thing, to come face to face with one’s own past. To truly delve into the things he did. The guilt, regret and sorrow was almost overwhelming. But he got through it. And after all the years he spent seeing you, then those months spent together intimately, you were the only thing he cared about now. Well, besides his son, but he cared for the boy in a different way.

Sweet Spider. He wondered if the kid would ever forgive him. No doubt everything that has happened to you will come to light. He wonders how much you’ll actually tell him. You feel his uncertainty through the bond.

“Miles?”

He sits up suddenly, a renewed sense of determination floods your senses coming straight from him.

“I gotta get you the fuck outta here.” You stare wide-eyed at him, but smile when you see the sternness of his expression as he looks to you.

“Wait here.” He orders, unlinking your queues. He rushes to dress himself in his black tank top and camo pants. He comes back to the bed and kisses you hard; leaving you breathless.

“I’ll be back.”

---

And so you wait.

Quietly you sit in that bed, in the dark. You decide it’d be best if you got dressed yourself. You rummage through his clothes till you find a large black t-shirt you like the smell of; his scent is heavily woven through the fabric. The shirt sits just above your hips; no doubt it would look comically big were it not for your proportions. Least it is somewhat loose. You’re thankful then, that his pants sit comfortably on you thanks to your wide hips.

You sit yourself back on the bed once satisfied with your attire. You’re anxious now, nervously playing with your loose hair. How were the two of you going to pull this off? Even if it was the early hours of morning, surely not everyone in the base was asleep? And what of Spider? Could the 3 of you really escape so easily?

You’re not sure how much time passes when the door suddenly opens, startling you. You’re taken aback by the sight before you.

In walks Quaritch, flanked by 3 other recoms, and pushing through their legs, is your beloved brother.

You gasp.

It feels far too long since you saw him.

“SPIDER!!!” You yell, unintentionally, but the joy and relief of seeing him alive and unharmed overwhelms you. Quaritch luckily had closed the door before your outburst.

“[Y/N]!!! You’re okay!” He yells and runs to you. You drop to you knees and grab him in your arms. He wraps his arms around your neck and hugs you tightly. You feel as though you could weep.

He pulls back, grabbing your face in his little lands, turning you side to side. His face contorted with worry. He’s inspecting you, as if to make sure you are real, are unharmed.

“What did they do to you? Did these assholes hurt you? Did…he hurt you?” You see Quaritch flinch in your peripheral. Of course. Spider doesn’t know he has all his memories back. And with that, he is fluent in Na’vi; something you spent months teaching him when the two of you weren’t in the throes of passion.

You place a kiss on Spider’s forehead.

“I’m okay now. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe and out of here. Unless…?” You trail off as you look to the others in the room. Two men and one woman.

“[Y/N], this is Lyle, Mansk, and ZDog.” He points to each one of them as he introduces them.

You greet them with the customary hand gesture. They do not reciprocate, and you do not begrudge them. They instead greet you in the human way, holding up a hand with a “hi” or a “hey”.

“Sooo…You’re the reason Colonel here’s about to go AWOL?” The bald one, Lyle, comments with a smirk.

“Wainfleet…” Quaritch growls out a warning. Lyle holds his hands up in defence.

“Hey I don’t mean nothing by it!”

ZDog and Mansk snicker at the two, you wonder if this is sort of exchange is an often occurrence. Quaritch sighs in annoyance, but he sees the slight worry in your eyes.

“You don’t gotta worry about these 3, darling. Their loyalty is to me, not the RDA. Ain’t that right ladies?”

“HOORAH!” The three of them yell with wide smiles. You breathe a sigh of relieve, hand on your heart. You get to your feet, keeping a firm hold of Spider’s hand in yours. You sure as shit weren’t letting him go again.

“So…What is the plan? Surely they wouldn’t let us just, walk out?” You ask.

“Actually…That’s precisely the plan.” You’re taken aback by this. That wasn’t really so much of a plan, as it was a complete gamble.

“I can see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours, lemme explain.” You hear the quiet giggles of the 3 recoms, and see Lyle playfully jab his elbow into Quaritch’s side. Your mate scoffs and scowls at him, but doesn’t retaliate. He clears his throat and continues.

“I’ve left a message for the general when she eventually wakes up explaining our absence. Night Training we’ll call it. See, Spider here’s been teaching us some of your Na’vi way during the day. But your forest ain’t entirely asleep at night right? So I figured, we should be taught how to survive its dangers at night, should we ever find ourselves in such a situation. Said we’d be back by sunrise. ‘Course we ain’t plannin’ on returning. But by the time they catch on, it’d be far too late, and we’d be long gone.”

By Eywa this was such a gamble. An incredible risk. And what of transport? You’ve seen the base before, from the safety of the skies. Its size was nothing to scoff at.

“And what of transport? Are we to take one of the flying machines?” Quaritch smirks at your question.

“I got a much better idea.”

---

Dressed in full gear, the 5 recoms lead you and Spider through the base. It is far emptier than you would have expected, barely any humans awake at this hour. What few scientists you see look far too sleep deprived to even pay you any mind. You pass the room housing that awful machine and visibly recoil.

You feel Spider squeeze your hand tight, your nerves calming slightly. Your hands had been cuffed at your front, with Spider pulling you along. They had to keep up appearances, and you understood. Least the orange restraints weren’t secured too tightly like the first time.

When you pass a window you look into the room and see the machine’s interior exposed, a few humans fiddling with the contents.

‘Good that it’s fucking broken. Eywa curse that awful machine.’ You think bitterly.

---

When the cool night air first hits your face, you all but whimper. Quaritch turns to you and catches you with one hand under your arm as your knees buckle. Although there is a big smile on your face, eyes closed in bliss as you breath deep, he can’t stop the guilt that hits him. You’ve been without fresh air for so long, living off of their masks and gas canisters. Seems as though there was still more he needed to atone for with you.

You stand up straight and take one final deep breath before you look to him.

“I’m okay…I’m okay, promise.” You reassure him. He nods, and the group is on the move once more. He’s nervous, you can tell. There is a tension in his shoulders when he walks. You feel it radiating from the two at your side, and ZDog at your rear. But once again, you aren’t met with any resistance as they lead you to an open area off to the side.

You can’t help the shocked gasp when you see them.

Ikran! And four of them! Beautiful mountain ikran. Is this what they were up to when they said Spider was teaching them? You’re almost giddy with excitement. The prospect of escape growing with each passing moment. You push hard on the underlying feeling of resentment that curls deep within you; knowing that they all were enjoying with gifts of the Great Mother while you suffered deep within their base. You have to remind yourself your beloved wasn’t truly himself. You haven’t completely forgiven him; such things would take time. But getting you and Spider out of here was a nice start.

You half expected one of the human security personnel to question where you were all going at such a time, but once again, those that were patrolling, and there wasn’t a lot of them in the first place, paid you all no mind. Perhaps Quaritch and his team answered only then, to that woman; the Admiral. You shiver at the memory of her cold stare. Never had you been confronted by such indifference.

“Alright, [Y/N] with me. Spider, with Lyle.” You nod and he brings you closer to his ikran; a beautiful dark blue female with golden accents on her wings. He smiles proudly at you as he pets her neck. “This here is Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”

“Cuz it was just so sweet of her to try and kill me,” he again smirks at you, and that raises more questions than it answers. But no matter, you’ll ask him to explain properly another time. He bond with Cupcake first, calming her and letting her understand just who you were to him. He helps you first up onto the saddle, you shuffle forward as he gets up and secures himself behind you. You grip the front of the saddle tightly. He pulls you back into his front, holding you tight with one arm around your waist. His other hand holds firm onto the reins beside your hands. With a kiss to the side of your temple, he commands his ikran to take flight.

And with that, the six of you take to the skies, uninhibited, and unbound, toward the forest.

---

Once you’re in the air and a bit away from the base, Quaritch undoes the bindings on your wrists, letting the cuffs fall to the forest. You immediately lift both hands into the air, giggling at the feeling of wind brush over your skin and through your hair.

You fly for a while, you think about 30 minutes from the base, when Quaritch calls for his squad to land in a nearby clearing. You’re impressed by his graceful landing. He hops off first, then holds a hand out to help you down, which you accept graciously.

As soon as your feet touch the ground, you hear the cry of an ikran coming in to land, and it is all to familiar. The recoms immediately have their guns drawn and pointed at the creature as it lands a few meters away. It is screaming, calls you recognise as threats. The other ikran clack their jaws together, not entirely rattled by the display. But you don’t care about that. You sprint towards him, and scream at the top of your lungs.

“PASKALIN!!!”

Quaritch calls for you, worried of course, but orders his team to stand down. The ikran bounds closer to meet you half way, its threatening yells exchanged for high pitched bellows. It places its head on your shoulder, tilting its head to bump yours, chuffing all the while.

“My sweet boy! I’m so happy you’re okay!” You gently rub under his chin and along his neck. Thank Eywa he is unharmed. Poor thing must have been waiting just outside the base all this time for you, then must have followed the moment he caught your scent leaving.

You guide him back to the group, smiling brighter than before.

“Everyone, this is Paskalin; my ikran.” You introduce him, and Spider bounds close without a second thought. Paskalin bends over to let the boy pet him.

“I thought I recognised you! Good choice not approaching this lot though.” He says to the ikran, and you give Spider a puzzled look. He notices your confusion.

“Saw him a few times when we went flying. Thought he looked familiar. Thought maybe he was following us ‘cuz one of them bonded with his mate or something.” He offers as an explanation. You feel a small twinge in your heart at the thought of your poor boy trying desperately to find you. He must have either recognised Spider, or perhaps even more saddening, your smell may have lingered on Quaritch. No matter. He is with you now.

You turn to the others, noticing then that they are in the process of removing all their gear. No vests. No comms. No guns. Leaving only their clothes. So they were really doing this. They were really going to follow you, Quaritch and Spider. Give up their lives with the RDA and embrace whatever Eywa would throw at them. They all start digging holes to bury their equipment.

“Hey…[Y/N]?” Spider pulls your attention. When you turn to look at him, you see his expression is one of contemplation, perhaps even confusion. There is a slight scowl to his brow.

“What’s wrong, Spider?”

He takes a moment to answer you, as if trying to think of how to broach the topic with you.

“Are…Did you and da—…Quaritch—did the two of you…” ‘Oh sweet Mother, he knows.’ Your ears pin back at the realisation of what he’s trying to ask you. He takes one big breath to calm himself.

“It’s just…I noticed the way he was holding you when we were flying, and the way he keeps looking at you too. It’s just how Jake looks at Neytiri.”

You press your lips together in a fine line. You’re not sure how to feel. Shame? Pride? Love? All of it washes over you. You have loved Quaritch before you even knew he was Spider’s father. That young silly crush of yours. And even when you learnt the truth, of him and his crimes, that did not deter you. And even when he seemingly vanished into thin air, your love for him did not waver.

“It is as it seems…We are mated.” Spider’s eyes widen with your confession. He is shocked. He then makes a face and sound of disgust.

“Does that make you my step-mom now?” the lilt of his voice is laced with teasing tones. You laugh suddenly, and playfully push him. He does the same.

“No way! You’re my brother first! But you have to admit—I’ve definitely been mothering you all since all of you could walk,” you are of course referring to all your younger siblings.

“Pssh, whatever!” he pulls your tail and laughs at your shocked expression. You hiss playfully and he hisses back, running when you start chasing him.

Quaritch watches the two of you giggle like a bunch of children, chasing each other and carrying on. He smiles to himself at the sight. A delicate warmth spreads from his chest and envelops him. He feels grateful to have the two of you in his life.

‘You watchin’ Paz? I’m gonna take good care of that boy. Do right by him, just like I promised. And I won’t be alone neither.’

---

Once everyone is finished burying the last of their gear, you all gather around one another.

“Ok sir, what’s the plan? Where we goin’?” Lyle asks Quaritch.

“Well, that depends on dear [Y/N].” He turns to you, “where we goin’ sweetheart? You know this forest better than any of us.”

You contemplate for a moment. Your first thought is to go back to High Camp. You miss your family something fierce, and it is the safest place you can think of right now. But you are afraid. What if the RDA had a way to track your movements? If they did, you’d be leading them straight to your clan, your family. Thus putting everyone in danger. Quaritch sees the worry adorning your face. He cups the side of your face, pulling you from your thoughts.

“You don’t gotta worry, sweetness. They won’t be able to track us. We ain’t takin’ a damn thing with us they can track. No guns. No coms. Nothing. Even took off the gear they made for the banshees,” he gestures behind him and look to see all their ikrans are bare back now.

You look back to him, and stare up into his golden eyes. They shine so beautifully in the moonlight. You become lost then, as you intently study the specs of light framing his face; committing each one to memory. Gently he rubs his thumb across your cheek, the gently motion soothing you. The two of you become lost in each other’s gaze, to the point of forgetting you weren’t alone.

“Soooo…where’re we going?” Spider speaks, again a hint of teasing in his voice, and the spell is broken. Quaritch seems unbothered though, seemingly not embarrassed to show you affection in front of others; let alone his son and squad.

“Well, darlin’?” you smiles oh so sweetly down at you, and you melt all over again.

“We go home.”

---

When you had said home though, you meant instead, the Tree of Souls. Although you trusted Quaritch with your very life, now that he remembered who he was, you still had reservations about the other 3. You do remember his squad being sizably bigger than this, and wondered where the rest of his team was. Would they follow you all? Did they themselves have ikran? But before taking flight he explained; this really was all that was left.

When he had first captured you and Spider, he lost a few to your family. Then after your capture, the attacks from Sully had increased tenfold. It was during these attacks that he began losing teammates, and slowly, he was left only with his 3 most loyal and trusted.

The attacks had become more frequent, ruthless, and bloodthirsty. And each time, a message was left in blood ‘GIVE HER BACK’. You cried openly at that. Your family had been fighting all this time to get you back. You felt a little saddened that it perhaps didn’t say ‘them’, to include Spider, but you didn’t fault your father. You couldn’t even fathom how he and mother must be feeling. Knowing where you were, but not be able to reach you. To them, you were caught in the arms of their greatest enemy. And that remained true, though in a completely different context now.

‘Oh great Eywa, how am I even going to explain this to them?’ A renewed sense of worry takes over you.

“[Y/N], you okay?” Spider asks you. He’s in front of you, riding with you on your ikran. You nod and force a smile. Everything will be fine. It had to be.

---

You laugh cry when you see the Tree of Souls. There was a time down in that prison where you truly believed you would die; locked away from all that you loved and held dear.

When you come in for a landing, it is barely sunrise. The few people that are there making early morning prayers to Eywa hastily move out the way. The sight of unfamiliar ikrans causing the nearby warriors to draw their bows on you all.

But then they see you and Spider.

“[Y/N]…? Is that you??” One of them calls out, he moves his bow to instead aim at one of the unfamiliar Na’vi.

“Ka'ani!” You smile big and wide at the warrior; a friend of the family, one of the people who had completed their iknimaya alongside your father.

“Who are these Dreamwalkers?”

“Peace, Ka’ni. They helped me escaped.” You move to stand in front his line of fire. A tense moment follows. He studies their faces, their body language. Alert but non-threatening. He verbally signals the surrounding warriors and they all lower their weapons. You breathe a sigh of relief and run toward the hunter, greeting him traditionally. He returns the gesture.

“You’re family has been rife with worry. They will be relieved to know you are unharmed.” He says and puts a hand to your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“[Y/N]…?” You look up toward the tree and see your Grandmother making her way from the trunk and down its roots. You don’t even yell, just run at her, tears streaming down your face. You try to say the greeting, but all that comes out is a warbled mess of a cry. She holds you tight in arms, swaying back on forth, giving thanks to Eywa over and over again for your safe return.

“[Y/N]!!! SPIDER!!!” You look behind Mo’at and see Kiri racing toward you. She must have been up early with Mo’at for Tsahik training.

“KIRIIIII!!!” She all but tackles you and Mo’at, the older woman letting out a ‘Oof’ as she braced herself from the impact. Spider comes bounding up and Kiri grabs him and pulls him onto the fold.

Kiri moves from you, all smiles and teary eyed.

“I’m so glad you’re safe sister. Did those guys bring you here?” She looks behind you to the group standing awkwardly with the ikrans. Her expression falls almost immediately, blood running cold. Recognition adorns her face. She looks up at you, then back to them, a quickness to her breath.

“That’s…that’s…” she can’t get the words out.

“There’s…a lot to explain, Kiri. Can…can you get mom and dad? I… I don’t want to bring them to High Camp. Not just yet.” You turn to gaze at the others, your eyes fix onto Quaritch as he meets yours. He gives you the faintest of smiles, and you smile back. He breaks eye contact to address the others. They are too far for you to hear what they are saying; drowned out by the whispers of your clanmates in the vicinity.

Kiri is staring at you. Shock and fear all over her face. She doesn’t catch to whom you smile.

“[Y/N]…don’t tell me…”

You turn to her again, and smile sadly. You know full well that this revelation will disappoint your parents. Kiri doesn’t say anything else; your expression was answer enough. She rushes down to her ikran, and takes off for High Camp.

You watch her go with a heavy heart, anxiety building up all over again.

You hear Mo’at behind you, praying to Eywa for guidance, and to keep you safe.

---

When you see the familiar ikrans of your parents and siblings land, you waste no time and rush to meet them. They even brought little Tuk.

“[Y/N]!” Your mother is the first on you, hugging you tightly to her, holding your face in her hands, checking all over you, making sure you are unharmed. All the while she weeps, he tears breaking the painted patterns on her face. When you see your father you pull him in with one arm and hold both of them so close and so tight, the strain in your arms almost burning.

You see little Tuk running at you as she calls for you. You release your parents and bend down to pick her up. She cries in your arms. You hush her with gentle words, rubbing her back and whisper comforting words, just as you have always done when she cried.

You look behind your parents to see your two brothers standing their trying to act cool and nonchalant.

“Come here you idiots.” You say with tears still streaming down your face but with a smile. That is all the invitation they need and they run you, unceremoniously pushing your parents aside to get to you and hug you tightly. Your folks merely laugh at their antics.

“How’d you escape, kid? Did those guys bring you here?” Your father looks up from you to the group they had ignored, so focused were they on seeing you when they landed. You tense at his question, and carefully hand Tuk back to mother. When you turn to your father you see his expression is anything but pleasant. He’s downright scowling. There is murder in those eyes.

“Is that fucking Quaritch…?” His voice is low and threatening. You swallow your fear. Slowly you move from your family toward the recoms, keeping your gaze on your family. When your mother turns to them, she clutches Tuk closer to her, turning her away from them, letting out a threating and scared hiss.

“Demon!” she spits venomously.

“Hey there Mrs. Sully. Jake. Fancy seeing you here,” Quaritch says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. You inwardly cringe, now was not the time for bravado.

Tentatively you place a hand on his chest, and in a low voice whisper, “peace, my love. Play nice.” He looks to you and nods. He moves to place a hand to your face.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH HER!” You here your father yell at the top of his lungs. Before you can even turn, you feel Quaritch grab you with both hands and throw you to the side. Caught of guard, you barely catch yourself with a roll. When you look up, you see your father and mate in a fight. The ikrans, startled, fly up and out of the way, perching themselves elsewhere. All the while they cawing loudly at the sudden excitement.

You watch in horror as the two men fight. Hand to hand, bloody fists flying. You notice though, it is only your father throwing punches. Quaritch dodges what he can, but keeps his arms up to block. Never does he retaliate. It sometimes almost looks like he lets himself get hit.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT DID YOU PEOPLE DO TO HER, HUH?!” When father yells that, you see the falter in Quaritch’s step. He pauses, and lowers his arms. There is a guilty look on his face, his stance almost one of defeat. Jake sees, and doesn’t care. He goes for him then, blade drawn. Immediately you’re on your feet, racing toward them. Just before your father can bring his blade down into Quaritch’s chest, your on his back, and pull with all your might, bringing him down with you. When you’re on your back, you push as hard as you can, forcing your father to tumble away from you.

He jumps to his feet immediately in fighting a stance, blade drawn.

You stand protectively in front of Quaritch, crouching defensively and hiss at your father. He’s completely taken aback by that, and looks at you confused.

“[Y/N]…?”

You don’t say anything, but stand up and open your arms wide.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s the only reason I’m even here right now!” You hear an angry growl come from your mother.

“He’s the reason you were taken in the first place!” She hisses, and you see she’s drawn her bow, aiming it straight at Quaritch. The rest of your siblings are behind her. You see Tuk cowering behind Kiri’s legs.

You turn then to stand to block her arrow, holding your arms out as far as you can, and you meet your mother’s stare. But she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are fixed solely on the man behind you. You can’t see, but you wonder where he’s looking. Her eyes fall to you, then back to him. You can see her shaking slightly, her face scrunched, conflicted.

“Daughter. Lower your bow…” You hear Mo’at approaching. She stands beside her daughter, her back to you.

“Mother…?” Neytiri is confused. Surely she understands who this Demon is. Slowly she lowers her bow, still gripping it tightly, arrow still knocked and ready.

“That…is your daughter’s mate…”

When she hears that, your mother let’s out the most blood curdling scream you have ever heard. She doesn’t think, only acts on instinct. She lifts her bow, pulls back and fires an arrow aimed straight at his head.

“NO!!!” you screamed as she let the arrow loose.

A powerful wind suddenly sweeps through the area. The force of it enough push you and everyone else to their knees. The coldness bites at your skin to the point it burns. The sting causing your eyes to water, so you squeeze them shut. The force is unrelentingly, assaulting from every direction, causing your hair to wildly thrash around you. You don’t expect it to be so loud either, moving your hands to cover your ears. Barely can you hear the confused cries of everyone around you, all in fear. You faintly hear the sounds of the ikrans above you; all scared caws and bellows.

You try with every ounce of strength you can muster to open your eyes, and are only able to open them but a fraction.

You are surprised then, to see someone standing in front of you, though you can barely make out her profile. When you look up, you see she is staring down at you.

Her skin is so light, it is almost shimmering. The dark gold of her hair remains still, even in this windy assault. You can’t see her eyes. And when you blink, she’s changed. Skin darker than night, but in the early morning sunlight, it is almost iridescent. You think you can see tiny swashes of rainbow dance across her skin. Her hair, still unmoving, is now brilliant white, like the stars in the sky. It is only then that you notice she has one arm raised, and in her hand she holds your mother’s arrow. When you blink again however, she is gone, taking the wind with her. The arrow falls before you, broken at the shaft.

Slowly you move your hands from your ears, wiping the tears from your eyes. You hear the groans and scared cries of the people around you.

“[Y/N]! You alright?!” Immediately Quaritch has his hands on you, turning you to face him. He searches your face, and once he’s satisfied, he pulls you to him in a tight embrace. He sighs in relief into your hair.

Neytiri can only sit and stare. She has no words for the sight before her. And she weeps. Weeps at her daughter in the arms of her sworn enemy. Weeps at the shadow she saw in the wind. She is no fool. She understood, and she weeps; for although she will never question the Will of the Great Mother, she cannot stop herself from feeling great sadness.

---

Awkward.

It is so unbearably awkward.

After what happened at the Spirit Tree, Mo’at insisted all of you, the recoms included, return to High Camp. Eywa has made her stance on the matter quite clear.

So here you sit, in your family’s tent, Quaritch at your side. Your parents sit across from you, staring daggers at the man. Your father has his arms crossed. Their gaze flitters from him to you. You to him. Your eyes are cast downward, unable to meet theirs. You fiddle with the hem of the shirt you’re wearing as you sit on your knees.

The rest of Quaritch’s squad was sent to where actual Avatars were kept, told they weren’t allowed to leave the barracks, and if they did, they’d be shot on sight.

Your siblings where given strict instructions to not disturb any of you until this, meeting, was complete.

“Explain.” That is the only word you father says. Only thing he needs to say. You open your mouth to speak, but father cuts you off. “He can speak for himself.”

Like you, Quaritch is sitting on his knees. He feels humiliated, being forced into this submissive pose. He remembers clearly how he was Jake’s superior. But he has to remind himself, he is on Jake’s territory now. And Jake is quite literally the Leader.

“What’dya wanna know, Sully?”

“Start from the very beginning. How the fuck are you back, for a start. Pretty sure that’s your arrow riddled corpse down there on the old battlefield.”

You see Quaritch’s tail flinch at that. You consciously bring your tail and wind it around his, calming him. Your mother sees this, and you hear her curse under hear breath at him, calling him all manner of profanities. You don’t untangle your tails.

You listen intently as Quaritch explains then. How he and his squad were subject to having copies of all their memories up to a certain point made. How they had to record videos for their resurrected selves, to explain the situation. He didn’t go into detail about what he recorded.

He explained how he remembered Spider’s birth and his mother. You tighten your tail around his as a tightness in your chest forms. This was before your time, yet you can’t help the coil of jealously in your gut. This was your mate. It is you who should have given him children first.

He talks about how he remembers the assault on home tree, the death of Spider’s mother. But that’s where his memory ends. He has no recollection of his own death.

“That’s how it was…until I got my memories back. All of them.” He looks to you as he says that, his expression soft and loving.

“What do you mean?” Father asks, confusion on his face.

“Eywa.”

Your mother makes an angry growl at that.

“You do not speak her name! You have no right!” She spits at him, pointing at him accusingly.

“Wait a minute now Mrs. Sully, I’m only here because of Her, alright?”

“Are you saying, this, is Her fault?” She points between the two of you.

“Well kind of, I mean, but not really—well?” Quaritch is struggling for the right words. He doesn’t want to outwardly blame Eywa, but she didn’t exactly stop either of you.

“Mother, let me explain.” You try and use your most diplomatic voice, soft and gentle. She looks to you, hurt evident in her eyes. But she sits back and lets you speak.

---

You start from your beginning. The Dreams. How, as a child, you met a human man, not the friendliest of sorts, but happily indulged you when you asked about humanity and their Home. How he took every opportunity to brag about his people and their accomplishments. How over time you came to learn he was a dead soul, kept by Eywa, and he knew it too. There came a time, years on when you were much older, that when he gave you his real name, (you had been addressing him by title only), you knew who he was.

The two of you never spoke about it, but you know who he was then. And when you gave him your full name, the implications of who you were became known. For reasons you cannot explain, you kept approaching him in your Dreams, after all the years you two had a sort of friendship.

You then spoke of how you couldn’t stop yourself, but you developed a crush on this older man. He didn’t treat you like a freak, not like the boys in the clan. Sure he may have treated you like a bit of a nuisance as a kid, but warmed up to you as time passed, especially when it was clear you weren’t going away.

“And so um…You remember, a few years ago, when I had…all those…marks?”

You watch with baited breath as realisation dawns on both your parents features. A strangled cry leaves your mother and she lunges for Quaritch. Jake grabs her around the waist, holding her steadfast to him. She fights to free herself from him, but she has little fight in her. She isn’t crying, but she is yelling and screaming at Quaritch, calling him all manner of vile filth she can muster in English. Your father whispers in her ear, trying to calm her, holding her head to his chest. She relents eventually, an almost cry escapes her lips as she buries her head into his neck, holding him close.

You lips quiver as you struggle not to cry. You have never felt such shame in your life. You start to question every choice you have ever made. Before you can fall into a descent of self-loathing, you feel a hand slide into yours, entwining your fingers. You look up to your mate, tears threatening in the corner of your eyes.

The look he gives you washes away any doubt. Spider was right. He looks at you just like father looks at mother; like you yourself hung the stars in the sky. Reverence.

“I don’t understand though…You were dead. How were you able to, interact?” You father has a confused and disgusted look on his face.

“We figured that, whatever happened to my soul in the shared Dreamscape, must get reflected onto my body in the real world.”

Father nods, not questioning further, he didn’t want the details.

“Colonel…You know that’s incredibly fucked up right?” Jake directs his ire to Quaritch. The man has no response. He knows what he did was wrong. He lowers his head in shame.

“I’m sor—”

“DON’T YOU DARE APOLOGISE!”

Everyone jumps at your sudden outburst. You gaze is fixed solely on your mate, hurt and anger in your eyes. You turn to him, grabbing both his hands firmly in yours.

“Don’t you dare say those words, you here me? I’m not sorry it happened. I was not some ignorant child. I knew what I was doing was wrong. And I knew better, I simply didn’t care! You made me happy. Really happy! Happier than I had been in, months, years even. And I was already falling hopelessly in love with you. And Eywa be damned, I would do it all over again.” You place a soft kiss to his knuckles. You see his lips press into a thin line as he tries to hold himself back, ears pressed back. He breaks eye contact, looking down at your joint hands instead. You understand the things he cannot say in front of your parents, and gently squeeze his hands. You feel him squeeze back.

“Ma Jake, I—I can’t,” You mother says and abruptly gets to her feet and hastily leaves. He calls for her, but she doesn’t come back. It breaks your heart, but you swallow the lump in your throat. You’ll cry it out later.

“Dad, it’s okay…It’s a lot for her to take in…” He sighs heavily.

“You can say that again…I remember though. Your attitude changed. Seemed like you had a falling out with the person we thought you were seeing.”

“Ah well, he kinda disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” He looks to Quaritch, confused. Said man clears his throat.

“Like I said before. Eywa. She came to me. Said She needed me for a purpose, but was gonna put me to sleep. Said when I wake up, it’d be in a new body. Thing is, none of us that made these backups, even knew we were gonna get resurrected in Na’vi bodies. But She did. Said, the memories would never be enough. The bodies wouldn’t work. Think She said something like, ‘These Na’vi bodies will exist because I allow it. And they will end, because I demand it.’ Then She knocked me out before I could ask more.”

You father nods and huffs, taking it all in. He’s quite for time, contemplating, thinking.

“So, you’re really Quaritch then? Not some, fake with memories?”

“In the flesh.”

“I’ll say.” You slap a hand to your mouth, unexpectedly chiming in with a flirt. You father frowns at you and you look elsewhere.

“Fuck man…FUCK.” Your father rubs the back of his head in frustration. “This is serious bullshit!” He gets up and starts pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Eventually he stops, a deep aggravated sigh leaving him.

“Look…I’ll talk to your mother. Try and calm her down. I can’t promise you guys anything. Quite frankly I’d have been happier just killing YOU,” he points at Quaritch, “but if Eywa wants you alive then so be it. I can’t guarantee the rest of the clan is going to be keen on the idea of you staying, and I’m not about to risk unrest to make you comfortable.”

“I understand…”

Quicker than you’re able register, your father has a blade pressed to Quaritch’s neck. You gasp but make no move to stop him this time.

“If you hurt her...There is no place on this planet, no place that the Great Mother can protect you. I will find you. And I will kill you.”

“I’d sooner die than hurt her.”

“Good. Then we finally agree on something.”

You father pulls back and holsters his blade.

“Get out of here. I had the kids set up a tent for you to use.” He dismisses Quaritch with a wave of his hand. Suddenly Spider is there, and you wonder if the entire little entourage had been eavesdropping this whole time. “Spider show him where his tent is.”

“Yes sir.”

Quaritch gets up and follows without another word. You get up to follow but your father stops you.

“Wait, [Y/N]. I want to speak with you in private.”

Quaritch gives you one forlorn look over his shoulder before he exists the tent.

---

You stand in silence as you wait for father to address you. He doesn’t, and instead, grabs you and pulls you into his arms. He holds you tight, pressing your head into his shoulder. You bring your arms up around him without a second thought.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, baby girl…I—we really got worried there. Thought we weren’t gonna see you again…”

You pull back and wipe a stray tear from your eye.

“Heard you turned up the heat.” He lets out a laugh like huff at that.

“Yeah, I may have gotten a little over zealous…But I’m glad you’re back, safe and sound.” He kisses your head and hugs you tightly again. “I love you, [Y/N].”

“Love you too, Dad.”

There is a beat of silence that passes between you two, just holding each other tight. You’re reminded then, of how this was the safest place to you as a child.

“Is…is this what you really want? Does he really make you happy?”

“Yeah Dad…he really does.” You say, not a hint of shame in your voice. You father sighs in defeat again. Poor man’s been doing that a lot lately.

“Alright… I sure as shit don’t like it, in fact I’m pretty sure I hate it. But, I wonder if this is what Neytiri’s parents felt like when she chose me, kinda. Well, not really the same, cuz ya know, it wasn’t directly me that blew up—”

“Dad please. You’re rambling.”

“Right, right, sorry. Just…Give your mother and grandmother time, yea? It’s gonna take a lot more time for them to come around to this idea. Hell, I’m not sure I’m entirely on board here. So please, please, be patient with them. With us.”

“Of course father. Without question. Thank you,” you hug him tightly one more time before you make your exist. You want nothing more than to fall into your mate’s arms.

When you exist the tent, you aren’t the least bit surprised to find your younger siblings scrambling to their feet. Of course they heard everything. Awkwardly they stand around, avoiding your piercing gaze. Well, everyone except Tuk. She runs to you and demands to be picked up. You do so without question, hugging her tightly.

“I’m pretty sure we were all taught how rude it is to eavesdrop,”

“It was Lo’ak’s idea!” Tuk tattles without a second thought.

“Tuk?!” He yells at her. She merely sticks a tongue out him. You simply laugh at their antics. Neteyam clears his throat and moves to take Tuk from you. She moves without a fight.

“So…Spider’s dad? Really?” Lo’ak speaks up and you cringe at the phrasing.

“Yep,” you say with a load pop to the ‘p’. You look to Kiri and see the angry and confused look to her face. Understandable, you think, knowing that he’s the reason her mother isn’t around.

“Kiri—” she holds a hand to you, stopping you from continuing.

“Don’t [Y/N], just—don’t. I don’t know how to feel about, any of this…But I felt her, Eywa, when we were down at the Spirit Tree. She saved him. For reasons I will never truly understand. So…Urgh. I don’t know. I’m happy for you, I guess?” There’s expiration in her voice. You know she’s trying her best to be supportive. Finding ones mate was always supposed to be a beautiful thing. You give her the best smile you can muster under the circumstances.

“Thank you, Kiri…” She gives you a curt nod, then takes Tuk from Neteyam.

“I’m gonna go help grandmother, I’ll talk to you later,” and with that she makes a hasty exit.

Lo’ak pats you on the back, sensing your sadness.

“It’ll be alright sis. She’ll come around.” You smile appreciatively at his words.

“Heh…aren’t you guys, disgusted in me too?” Lo’ak merely shrugs at you.

“It’s nice to know I’m not the only screw up around here.”

“Oi!” You punch his arm playfully, he hisses at the pain but laughs all the same, rubbing the tender spot.

“Regardless…” Neteyam breaks his silence. “Just, be careful [Y/N]. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You regard him with a solemn smile.

“Bit late for that I’m afraid,” Your two brothers share a look but don’t press you for answers. “Anyway, can you show me where his tent is set up?” Lo’ak gestures you to follow him, and Neteyam goes off on his own, having other tasks to do.

---

When you enter his living space, you're surprised to see Spider still there. They both look up when they sense your presence.

“We’ll finish this later, son.” Quaritch says and gently pets Spider on his shoulder. The boy smiles at him and goes to leave, not before hugging you. Once he's left, you go about closing off the tent, ensuring the two of you have the utmost privacy, all the while Quaritch watches you silently.

Satisfied all is secure and there should be no interruptions, you walk straight over to where he is sitting. You drop yourself into his lap, legs wrapping tightly around his mid. You press yourself as hard as you can to him, as if he could swallow you whole into his very being. Head pressed into the bottom of his throat, your arms go around his neck, gripping tightly at his hair. It hurts but he doesn’t mind, doesn’t voice a single complaint.

Strong arms wrap around you, warm, secure, and tightly. You cry then; you’ve been doing that a lot lately. But you don’t care right now. You break down in your mates arms.

Every fear, regret, guilt, and sadness pouring from you all at once.

The meeting with your parents perhaps didn’t go as disastrously as it could have; no one died at least. But you wish it could have gone better. You feel terrible for what your mother must be going through. She must feel like the whole world is against her.

To bring her worst enemy, the very man that caused the death of her father, and then to have said man be mated with you? The thought causes you cry even harder. It is an ugly cry, nothing but tears and snot.

Quaritch doesn’t give a damn though. He rocks you back and forth in his arms, one hand goes to the back of your head, the other starts rubbing up and down your spine in a soothing motion. He starts humming then, a song you don’t recognise. The low vibrations of his voice gently bringing your crying to but a whimper.

“It's alright baby, I got you. You’re safe with me.” He whispers in your ear, and suddenly exhaustion sits heavily on your shoulders. You feel so drained from everything that’s happened. You close your eyes and let sleep take you, lulled by his continued humming.

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios @rededfoxy @brutecuteness

---

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been following this story! If I missed you in the tags please let me know! I think there might only be 1 or 2 more parts left to this short story! Hahaha this was initially started with the intention of being a oneshot; with the excuse to write smut. Yet here we are on part freaking 4.

MFW I thought this was a oneshot:

LMAO SUPRISED MYSELF--! Anyway big thank you to everyone who enjoys it so far! Will get back to my main fic once I wrap this baby up xoxo Also thank you again for the likes, comments and retweets! Any engagement really motivates me to write more! <3

---

595 notes · View notes